Change and Anne Moody’s Racial Awareness

Moody (front right, facing the camera) and her companions endure the abuse at the Woolworth's sit-in protest, Jackson, MS.

Anne’s Moody’s memoir Coming of Age in Mississippi is a powerful insight into the life of a young girl growing up in the Deep South during the Civil-Rights Movement. Moody’s book chronicles her coming of age as a woman, and perhaps more importantly, it chronicles her coming of age as a politically active black woman. Her childhood and early years in school set up a foundation for her racial awareness and her need to be extraordinary. She built upon that foundation as she went to college and sowed the seeds of political activism. During her later years in college, Moody became active in a number of organizations dedicated to making changes to the civil rights of her people. These events eventually led to her disillusionment with the effectiveness of the movement despite her continued action.

            One of Moody’s first references to racial awareness occurred when she was four years old. As a child, Moody’s family lived in a cabin on a plantation. Both of her parents worked as field hands and were forced to leave Anne and her little brother at home. One day Anne’s uncle, who was but a few years older than her, was bitterly taking care of her. He attempted to scare her with fire and he accidently lit the house on fire. The house all but burned to the ground. This event had a devastating effect on the family. Anne’s father Diddly left for a young fair-skinned mulatto woman named Florence. Anne noted her mother’s hatred for the other woman in terms of race. She remembered the woman distastefully described as “yellow,” followed by strings of colorful expletives (3-19).

            This event points out how early Moody’s unique perspective on race began to form. It is apparent that Moody’s mother had strong feelings toward others who were not of the same race as herself. Florence was of mixed race, and Anne’s mother saw her light complexion as a sign, and perhaps a reason, for her negative qualities. Anne remembers her mother’s use of racial labels despite her very young age. Though at the time she was much too young to understand the real implications of these thoughts and words, she remembered them. She was exceptional. Something inside her told her this event was significant, and only later would she fill in the gaps about why.

            Anne’s racial awareness t\was largely influenced by the events of the summer of 1955. A young African American man named Emmett Till came to Mississippi from Chicago to visit family. He stopped at a store to purchase some things, and on the way out he allegedly winked and whistled at a white woman. As a result, a mob pulled him from his home and brutally beat and lynched him. News of the events spread across the country. This lynching had a massive influence on Moody. Until this event, Moody had never really seen the dramatic disparity between whites and blacks. She now feared for her life, and she understood that it was simply because she was black-skinned (127-37).

            Emmett Till’s murder marked the beginning of Anne’s path toward activism. Anne’s new understanding of the plight of black Americans, stemming largely from this single incident, would act as a foundation for the rest of her ideology to build upon. Were it not for a major event like this, Anne may not have developed some of her powerful ideological changes as she grew older. Her more radical decisions, made later in life, would not have been made without her strong ideology. Her entire life would have been different, and many of the Civil-Rights-related events she was involved in would have been different. Thus, Moody’s reaction to this single event may have had a massive effect on many people.

            In some ways Anne’s coming of age as a teenage girl led to her coming of age racially. As she entered high school, Anne began growing physically as fast as she did mentally. She outgrew her skirts and was forced to wear jeans to school, which was somewhat gauche according to the standards of the time. She continued to grow and her jeans became rather tight, after which the boys began to pay her much attention. As a result of her maturing physique, Anne’s popularity grew so much that she was chosen as Homecoming Queen. Anne’s father got enough money together to purchase her a beautiful gown to wear. Moody described this night as the best of her life (200-21).

            This event that signified Moody’s move from girlhood to womanhood set the precedent for her need to be racially exceptional. Moody loved to feel special and different. Anne had a new found confidence after this event. She honestly believed that she could do anything. Moody never showed much fear, even as a little girl, but the reservations she did have as a girl largely disappeared after her homecoming. She became more resolute and determined to do what she desired, and that resolution would reveal itself during college and beyond.

            During high school Anne was heavily involved in the girls’ basketball team. She worked very hard and became a star player. Her efforts on the court paralleled her efforts in school. She maintained very high grades, and as a result of all her hard work she received a scholarship to play basketball at Natchez College. Anne became even more firm in her beliefs than before. When the students were eating their grits for breakfast they found maggots in them. Moody attempted to go back into the kitchen to talk to them about it when Miss Harris stopped her and told her to sit back down. She refused, and told her it was her business because she too had “to eat this shit!” Thus began the students’ heated boycott, largely led my Moody (253-58).

            The boycott at Natchez was one of Moody’s first signs of political activism. Up to this point in her memoir, Anne had been willing to stand up for her beliefs, but not in a political way. In this instance Anne acted on the racial awareness by understanding the need for equality and fairness to all, even to lowly students. She was willing to stand up, rather powerfully, and defend her rights. This small-scale political activism gave Moody a taste for the movement, and may have been a major effect in her choice to join the movement a short time later.

            While at school Anne decided that she would be content to live the life of an activist. She wanted to try and make a difference in people’s lives, and she felt that her race needed help more than anyone. After transferring to Tougaloo College, she became involved with the SNCC, or Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, and the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP). The SNCC was concerned with forming protests to desegregate public and private establishments. With this group, Moody attended a sit-in at the Woolworths Department store in Jackson, Mississippi. The Woolworths sit-in was one of the most violently attacked sit-ins of the 1960s, and it received a lot of media attention around the country. Anne and a group of other students simply went to the lunch counter of the white establishment and sat down. Soon dozens of people flooded into the store. Anne decided they should pray, and as they bowed their heads a group of people rushed them. A number of men involved were badly beaten, and the girls were beaten and harassed as well. Onlookers dumped condiments and drinks all over them. After a few hours of torment the store owner closed up shop and everyone was forced to leave. As Anne left the store, she saw that ninety police officers were standing at the window watching the entire thing (286-90).

            Anne’s experience at Woolworths made her hatred for segregation even stronger, and because of her personality and experience, it gave her more motivation to fight against it. Moody said she was absolutely sickened by the people of Mississippi. They believed so strongly in segregation that they would humiliate and physically beat people simply for asking to be served at a lunch counter. They would literally kill to preserve their so-called balance. At this moment, however, Anne’s perspective changed. The white people were sick, she decided. They had a disease, and she felt that she could not hate a sickness. This experience was the beginning of her disillusionment with the effectiveness of the movement. What chance did they have against a sickness? How could they fight a sickness that was in its terminal stage? Moody offers no answer (290-91).

            Moody became fully involved in the Civil-Rights Movement. She was present at the March on Washington when Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. gave his famous “I Have a Dream” speech. As she sat and listened to Dr. King speak, she realized that the movement had no leaders, for their leaders were only dreamers. Back home in Mississippi they had no time to sleep, let alone dream (333-36).

            In this passage Moody began to doubt the effectiveness of the current movement. This was a passive movement, similar to that of India when Mahatma Gandhi led his people to an effective passive revolution. Unfortunately, a passive movement would not work in America’s Deep South. The movement, in Moody’s mind, was not focused on the things that would make the biggest difference. They were focused too much on voter registration and mock-elections. Moody thought the movement would be much more effective if they did things to help bring about progress now. They should do things like help black farmers buy their own land. That, to Moody, would be a real, tangible change that would have a lasting effect. Despite all this, she knew that she could never leave the movement, because there was just too much work to do (333-37, 373-77).

            Anne Moody was remarkably racially aware. From a young age, Moody felt something different about race relations than those around her. She developed into an intelligent, strong-willed young woman with a desire to make changes to the racial landscape in the South. For years she worked tirelessly to help bring about those changes, but eventually she became disillusioned. She knew who she was, and she knew that she needed to help make a difference, but she did not know if she could. She closed her book with a bus ride to Washington, where the group would try to sway Congress toward desegregation. The group began to sing We Shall Overcome. Moody thought to herself this question: “I WONDER. I really WONDER.” (424)

What Does the Affordable Care Act Do?

This blog is usually a venue for my academic writing, but I feel the need to break from that vein a little bit. Today's political climate is rather heated, and with the election nearing in November, political rhetoric begins to be thrown around with increased passion and decreased logic or original thought. Therefore, I feel it necessary to point out that there is more to the Affordable Care Act (deemed by some as Obamacare) than just the individual mandate that has bred a political firestorm for the past three years. Many of the facets of the act have already gone into practice, while others will not do so until 2014.

I do not intend this to be a partisan-fused piece, and most of the information is from healthcare.gov. Take it for what you wish, and please do not use the comments below simply to bash others and their beliefs or actions. Debate is welcome, as long as you keep it civil.

Implemented as of 2010

• No lifetime coverage benefit limits can be placed on an individual.
• Children can not be denied coverage due to a preexisting condition.
• Preventative care coverage is expanded for many, eliminating co-pays for check-ups, mammograms, and colonoscopies (continued into 2011).
• Young adults can remain on their parents' insurance until they are 26 years of age, regardless of marital status.
• Seniors may receive expanded coverage for name-brand prescriptions, previously found in the "doughnut hole" of coverage.
• Tax credits are available to small business owners for making health care coverage available (credits % set to increase in 2014). 
• States are allowed to create their own Preexisting Condition Insurance Plan to provide an affordable plan for those who fall under this category. If they choose not to do so, the US Dept. of Health and Human Services will do so.
• Insurance companies cannot rescind coverage to a sick individual based on a mistake made in the application process.
• Blockers placed to begin eliminating annual limits to coverage benefits (completed in 2014).
• Insurance companies are barred from hiking premium rates by more than 10% (new appeals procedures have also been put into place, both in the private and public spheres).
• New incentives established to draw new doctors into primary care spheres, as well as incentives for those practicing.

Implemented as of 2011

• Prices for preventative care coverage are dropped, to zero for many.
• Funding to build/expand community health care facilities.
• A greater portion of insurance premiums are required to be spent on health care coverage (80% for small group plans, 85% for large group plans).
• Medicare recipients who are considered high-risk receive opportunities for greater coordinated care to avoid unnecessary readmission.
• An advisory board was created to ascertain how to extend the life of, lower the cost of, and increase the health care for Medicare.
• Cheaper options for at-home visiting care as an option to resident nursing homes.

Implemented as of 2012

• Data will be collected of overall quality of health among different groups to assess racial/ethnic disparities.
• Efforts being made to transition toward electronic record keeping and management to cut down on costs.

Implemented as of 2014

• Tax credits for small business owners offering health benefits increase.
• Affordable Insurance Exchanges will be established at the state level, providing a venue for individuals to compare private and public options together.
• Annual limits of coverage benefits abolished.
• Individuals will be able to apply their employer's premium match rate to whichever insurance coverage they choose to use.
• Tax credits applied to individuals for those who qualify, can be applied monthly rather than yearly.
• Coverage cannot be refused based on a preexisting condition.
• Coverage cannot be refused, and rates cannot be hiked on account of gender.

and...

• The dreaded individual mandate, referred to as the requirement for individual responsibility of coverage for all those who can afford it. If they do not, they will be required to pay a fee. "If affordable coverage is not available to an individual, he or she will be eligible for an exemption."

As I mentioned before, this is meant as a brief overview of what has been, and what will be implemented as a result of the Affordable Care Act, not as a partisan plea for one side or the other. In order to make an informed decision, one must seek out the information (of which I can only impart some). Please, any thoughts, comparisons, additions or omissions are welcome.

Lack of Action: Tim O’Brien’s Failed Attempt at Courage

In his book If I Die in a Combat Zone, Tim O’Brien recounted events surrounding his experience with the war in Vietnam. He noticeably came back to one question again and again: what is courage? This paper will analyze O’Brien’s struggle with this question by first explaining the dilemma he faced as a soldier fighting in a war he felt was unjust. I will then piece together O’Brien’s ideological explanations of courage from the text, followed by his examples of both courage and cowardice. Courage, to O’Brien, was action. When these pieces are viewed together according to his own convictions and definitions, O’Brien did not have courage but was, in fact, a coward

            Tim O’Brien faced a major dilemma as he was drafted to fight in a war that he deemed unjust. This quandary was perhaps most eloquently explained during his conversation with the chaplain during his Advanced Infantry Training. He pointed out that in his heart he felt that killing was wrong. War, according to O’Brien, must only be fought if it is just. In his heart he must feel that he is fighting for goodness. This war, he told the chaplain, was not just and he felt he should not fight in it. The religious leader responded by calling out O’Brien as “very disturbed.” “You’ve read too many books,” he said, “the wrong ones, I think there’s no doubt, the wrong ones.” Then he seemed to have dropped his religious front: “But goddamn it—pardon me—but goddamn it, you’re a soldier now, and you’ll sure as hell act like one!” After a brief ideological tussle between O’Brien and the chaplain, the young soldier posed his true question: if he believes the war is wrong and he goes and kills then what is the state of his soul? Also, if he refuses to fight, he will have betrayed his country. So what can or should he do (56-61)?

O’Brien’s quandary was at once universal and a product of the particular political and cultural climate of his time. War has always been controversial. Any time human life is concerned there will always be those who question the rationale behind the actions. In this case, however, O’Brien seemed to be struggling with more than just his convictions against the war. His actions questioned the legitimacy of the political and cultural norms of the period. Since World War II, the United States was obsessed with their fear of the expanding communist Soviet regime in Eastern Europe and Asia. Communism was viewed as the antithesis of capitalism and democracy, which Americans believed were divinely inspired. Americans’ fears translated into witch hunts at home and abroad in attempts to squash the communist threat to their way of life. O’Brien grew up in this Cold War era, and the political rhetoric stated that anything which questioned the United States and its convictions was not only communist, but by connection evil. His conviction against the war seemed right in his heart. “And if right, was my apparent courage in enduring [the war as a soldier] merely a well-disguised cowardice?” (138) Was he then, by connection, evil? He felt like he was in a prison: “unwilling to escape, yet unwilling to acquiesce” to the war (39).

            In an attempt to sort out his feelings about his actions, O’Brien cited a plethora of ideological explanations for what courage is. He began with Socrates. O’Brien pointed out that Socrates was likely conflicted himself. Considering his writings, one would conclude that he would not have acquiesced, but gone about the war his own way. However, O’Brien pointed out, Socrates fought a war for Athens. There was no way that war was completely just either. Was he then a “reluctant hero” like O’Brien? These musings subsided and O’Brien got back on duty (46-47). Later O’Brien described courage as “acting wisely when fear would have a man act otherwise.” But wisdom on its own was not enough, for one must spiritually endure (136-138). He cited another possible definition in connection with action. Men act cowardly, and men act courageously. Bravery is measured according to the average action when all are taken into account (148).

            Ideologically, the United States had a slightly different definition of bravery than O’Brien. This idea was partially described by Major Callicles, One of O’Brien’s last commanding officers in Vietnam. He said it was America’s responsibility, and therefore every American’s responsibility, to show the world that someone has “guts to stand up for what’s right.” Further, “it’s going out and being tough and sharp-thinkin’ and making things happen right” (200). Culturally, courage in America was characterized by proactively fighting against what they believed was wrong. They took it upon themselves to make sure the world saw things the way they did, because their way was “right” as Major Callicles said. American culture made bravery out to be forceful, and often rather cruel and oppressive. As O’Brien said, “if a man can squirm in a meadow, he can shoot children. Neither are examples of courage.” Men must know the rightness of their actions, for this is wisdom (136, 140).

            O’Brien cited examples of courage throughout the book. Each example is defined as courageous or brave differently than the rest, further complicating his pursuit of a definitive answer. O’Brien himself first exemplified courage during his Advanced Infantry Training. The more he concluded that the war was wrong, the stronger his desire was to refuse. He went to the library and researched how other soldiers had gotten away, safely, to a place where they would not be forced to fight against their convictions. He made plans and wrote letters to his family concerning his justified desertion (52-54). O’Brien knew at this point that his heart would never tell him this war was right. He thought long and hard about what he would do after his tour to fight against the, in his opinion, unjustified war. He would go on his own “crusade” and fight against some of the men who caused so many atrocities. He determined that when other wars arose he would determine if they were just, and fight against them if they were not (93). This could be considered an internal courage, holding fast to ideas one knows are right.

            O’Brien used Captain Johansen, his commanding officer, as a prime example of bravery in the more traditional sense. “I’d rather be brave than almost anything,” he said to Tim, who responded by saying he wished he had tried harder himself. As O’Brien contemplated Johansen’s words, he came to the conclusion that “It’s the charge, the light brigade with only one man, that’s the first thing to think about when thinking about courage. People who do it are remembered as brave, win or lose. They are heroes forever” (134). True bravery, according to this example, is a desire deep within oneself to charge, as hard and as strong as they can, to fight for whatever their conviction is. This example makes no ideological qualification for bravery. It is simply the action that comes from a desire within. No one in Vietnam besides Johansen cared about bravery, and thus they did not have it. All they had was an obsession with “manliness, crudely idealized,” not bravery (134).

            Examples of cowardice starkly contrasted the examples of courage in the book. O’Brien usually referred to himself as cowardly rather than brave. After he made all his plans to run and refuse to fight in a war that he was morally opposed to, he did not. He was in Seattle on leave from training and his plans were all ready to go, but when the time came he could not bring himself to do it. He vomited and went to sleep, then burned his letters and his plans when he woke up in the morning. He did not have the courage to take a stand when it really counted. His thoughts and feelings were in the right place, but his actions never followed. “I was a coward,” he said as he recalled his return to the base. He had thought about not carrying a gun, but again he “succumbed” to the war and became a soldier none the less (68, 34).

            This example of cowardice really gives us the best understanding of O’Brien’s vision of bravery. No matter how good one’s intensions are, and no matter what he/she believes, there is no bravery in it unless there is action. Knowing the rightness of his actions confirms his bravery in his heart, and he knows it is real. But no matter the inward conviction, of which O’Brien had plenty, it means nothing in regard to bravery unless it is coupled with action.

Thus, according to his own beliefs and measures of bravery, O’Brien did not have courage. He knew in his heart what was right and what he should do, but he could not bring himself to do it. He allowed his fears to overpower his convictions. No matter how bad the fighting got on the ground, no matter how many men he saw killed, and no matter the gross injustices he witnessed, the fear of leaving and facing his family and friends with an explanation crippled his courage. The great detail he went into about his dilemma, his ideology, and the examples he witnessed of both courage and cowardice were simply observations. Tim O’Brien made these observations so thoroughly because he did not have the quality he was looking for. He was not a hero, and he said it himself, but he did understand what courage was. He, like many others before him, could not put aside his fears for the nobler good and fulfill his own definition of bravery.

Prose Styles and Du Bois’ Argument for a Better World

In his book The Souls of Black Folk, W.E.B. Du Bois employed a revolutionary style of writing. He did not follow the usual conventions of turn-of-the-century scholarly argument, but innovatively merged forms together, using this new form as a literary representation of his over arching argument. Du Bois used different prose styles that characterized the different facets of his argument. According to Du Bois African Americans needed a rounded, multifaceted experience through first, formal higher education—represented by abstract prose; second, vocational training and basic education—represented by factual history; and third the liberty to experience life—represented by personal accounts. All of these pieces of Du Bois argument pointed toward facilitating a change in black leadership and black communities.

            Du Bois began by demonstrating his remarkable ability for abstraction. These famous words set up the purpose and tone of his book: “the problem of the Twentieth Century is the problem of the color line.”[1] Blacks in America were born into this life with a symbolic veil over their eyes. They were forced to see themselves and the world not only through their own point of view, but through the point of view of white men. At no other time in history, Du Bois claimed, was an entire race forced into this “double-consciousness,” “this twoness.” Two men inhabited the body of every black man, and they struggled since Emancipation to synthesize these two into one, more perfect man, a “coworker in the kingdom of culture.”[2]

            Black communities’ struggled to gain the equality they were promised following Emancipation. During the years of Reconstruction, former slaves found themselves in an extension of the bondage they had just come from. They pleaded for liberty, and as Congress passed the Fifteenth Amendment guaranteeing them the right to vote, they thought they had found the means by which they may finally find it. For years they tried to no avail. Alas they settled on the idea that “book-learning” in higher institutions of learning would free them from their perpetual bonds of serfdom. Book learning by itself, however, did not accomplish this goal.[3] Du Bois then stated his claim that none of the above paths to liberty could accomplish its goal alone or in succession with another. Black Americans needed political action, vocational training, and higher institutional learning together to bring the entire race up onto an equal plane with the rest of society.[4]

            This portion of Du Bois’ book portrayed a number of abstract ideas. He formed these ideas after much contemplation on the subject, apparent in the form of his argument. He was able to think outside the box and form an original argument grounded in evidence, both real and ideological. Du Bois used abstract ideas again and again throughout Souls, not only to argue his point in text, but in form. His ability to create arguments based on conceptual ideas resulted from his education. After finishing a bachelor’s degree from Fisk, Du Bois studied at Harvard, where he earned another bachelor’s degree, a master’s degree, and became the first African American man to earn a Ph.D. from the acclaimed institution.[5] He himself, Du Bois argued subliminally, exemplified why black Americans needed higher education. Similar theoretical portions pervade the entirety of the text.

            Du Bois followed his abstract ideas with segments of factual history. His second essay titled “Of the Dawn of Freedom” exemplified his broad knowledge on the subject. In this essay Du Bois recounted the history of society’s question “What shall be done with the Negroes?” and how they attempted to answer it.[6] The Freedmen’s Bureau, according to Du Bois’ history, attempted to wrestle with this issue during and following the Civil War. From “contraband of war,” to “a military resource,” African Americans during the war were still seen as property or livestock. Following the war Congress struggled to designate what agency would deal with the problem of freed slaves, and how that agency would be allowed to do so. They hastily put them under the War Department in the new Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen, and Abandoned Lands. Slowly the Freedmen’s Bureau melted away. Both the public and private attempts to handle the issues of freed slaves failed. These failures placed freedmen, and all free blacks, in a state of permanent lower class status.[7]

            This second essay attempted to present facts and history of the Freedmen’s Bureau as they existed, along with the long-term effects of those events. Du Bois related these facts to show the need for basic education. Basic schooling teaches individuals how to make sense of history and patterns while fostering reading and writing skills that will help him/her function as a productive member of society. It is very difficult to vote or enter into meaningful dialogue without a basic understanding of the English language and basic histories. Du Bois argued that the African American people want to be more than just workers, and their inability to perform basic tasks within society would guarantee permanent worker status. This example of the many fact-based essays in Souls exemplifies Du Bois argument for basic education.

            To make his abstract and fact-oriented arguments more real and human, Du Bois followed them with his own personal experiences and observations of black life in America. His two essays, “Of the Meaning of Progress” and “Of the Black Belt” are powerful examples of Du Bois’ ability to relate his own experiences to others. The first of the two told the story of Du Bois’ years as a school teacher in Tennessee. He soon felt the effects of “the veil” as his inequality within the society became apparent.[8] His students had to meet in an old drafty corn shed. Often the students could not attend school due to their work responsibilities. Families were forced by their economic conditions to live in single room cabins. The people worked so hard, in so many forms of labor, and were never able to break even. When he returned a few years later his former students were either in the same condition as their parents, or dead.[9] Similarly, the families he saw when he visited Georgia in the second essay were dreadfully trapped in their situation. Debt constantly loomed over the heads of the tenant farmers no matter their efforts, and the once great economy was shriveling.[10] Both of these communities were stalled in their progression and riddled with despair.

            Du Bois’ personal memoirs effectively expressed his belief in the importance of liberty to experience life for oneself. Much of Du Bois’ understanding and conviction of the issues he argued came from his observations of the system. His basic education, in connection with his higher education, opened his eyes to the issues when he saw them. He had the freedom to gain his education and the freedom to personally see the effect society’s bigotry had on black Americans. This is where, had he chosen, Du Bois could have made his call for political action.

When an educated black populace could personally see or experience the degradation caused by the “veil,” they could combine for political action to begin to change the system. Only together could education and experience bring American blacks up as equal members of society, and Du Bois used his three prose styles to exemplify that. True employment of these three pieces together would have a lasting effect on the black community. Souls not only made an argument for the improvement of the black situation, it literally was that argument.

---

[1] W.E.B. Du Bois, The Souls of Black Folk, 1902 (Simon and Schuster: NY, 2009) 3.

[2] Ibid, 7-8.

[3] Ibid, 10-11.

[4] Ibid, 13-16.

[5] Ibid, IX.

[6] Ibid, 18.

[7] Ibid, 19-40.

[8] Ibid, 65.

[9] Ibid, 62-75.

[10] Ibid, 109-131.

A Dichotomous Identity in The Narrative of Olaudah Equiano

In his autobiography The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus Vassa, the African, identity was one of the author’s central themes. Intentionally or unintentionally, the author portrayed his identity as dualistic and dichotomous. This dichotomy was especially pronounced in the use of his two names and in the descriptions of Africa and England, his two homelands. Both of these examples exuded subtle clues that suggest the author’s identity as an English Christian. Vassa clarified his identity through the comparative descriptions of his native African religion and his then-current Christian religion.

            The first dichotomy Equiano portrayed in his narrative was the use of his names. The title of his book included both names by which he was known during his life. The first name listed was Olaudah Equiano, his African name. The second name he listed was Gustavus Vassa, the name he was given by his owner en route to England for the first time. This order implied the name by which he preferred his narrative to be known. Equiano chose to add the phrase “the African” to the title in an attempt to maintain a connection to his land of origin. The name Olaudah represented the folk spirit of Africa, and as an African, Equiano’s story portrayed a stronger ethos to readers.[1]

            Though the author chose to state his African name Olaudah before his given name Gustavus, he almost exclusively used the name Gustavus throughout his life. When aboard a ship to England, the author told his master that he wanted to be known as Jacob. His master refused and gave him the name Gustavus Vassa.[2] The author used the name Gustavus as he moved from owner to owner, and later after he bought his freedom and traveled as a free sailor. Likewise, when he was baptized and later became a missionary to Africa, he continued to use the name Gustavus.[3] The author would have had more clout connected to the name Gustavus than Olaudah among the white community. He may not have been able to make some of his necessary relationships or business transactions with an African folk-name like Olaudah. This tension represented the author’s inner struggle to define himself, both as an African and an Englishman without completely giving up either.

            The second dichotomy Equiano portrayed in his narrative was his sense of home. In the first chapter of his book, Equiano described in detail the society in which he grew up. Equiano portrayed his African society—many miles inland from the Bight of Benin—as very considerate and moral. They established families, made official through a ritualistic marriage ceremony. They exchanged manufactured goods and participated in commerce; they fought wars, and took slaves of their own.[4] Later in his life Equiano returned to Africa, the land of his birth, as a missionary to try and convert his brethren to Christianity. This excursion highlighted the duality of his view of home.[5]

            England became Vassa’s new homeland. He sailed to England fairly soon after his trip across the dreadful middle passage. In England he felt the strongest connections to other people since his sister was taken away from him in Africa. He was able to make friends and learn about Christianity. He was baptized and eventually learned to read, allowing him to delve deeper into the religion.[6] When Vassa was forced to sail to the Mediterranean he deeply wanted to return to his new home in England. Later, when his master betrayed him and sold him to the West Indies, his greatest desire was to return to his beloved England.[7] After Vassa obtained his freedom he returned to England again and again, working as a free sailor and earning his wages.[8] This series of events suggests that Vassa had an emotional connection to England. Despite his very positive descriptions of Africa and his trip as a missionary, Vassa’s heart always remained in England. It was this trip as a missionary that highlighted the last dualistic portrayal of the author’s identity.

            The third dualism Equiano portrayed was his religious identity. This side of his identity was different than the previous two in that his religious identity more notably changed over time. This aspect of his identity was also much easier to define. In the first chapter of his book, Equiano described the religious beliefs and practices from his homeland in Africa. His society had a ritualistic marriage tradition, after which the woman became the sole property of the man.[9] They believed in one Creator of all things, who lived in the Sun and controlled all the events of their lives. Equiano recalled no concept of eternity, but rather a form of transmigration of souls. Some souls were transmigrated to other people or objects, and the souls that did not would attend their families forever. These souls were central to religious rituals practiced there.[10]

            Vassa seemed to have completely renounced the religious aspect of his African identity after he learned of Christianity. In February 1759 Vassa was baptized and began his life as a Christian. He knew enough about the religion that he thought he would go to hell if he was not baptized, a fact that his mistress stressed repeatedly.[11] From this time forward Vassa constantly looked toward this religion in times of peril or heartbreak. When his master sold him to the West Indies he argued that his master had no right to do so, for he was a Christian.[12] Vassa spent an entire chapter describing his full conversion to the faith. He was distressed and began to pray to God for redemption. As a result he claimed to have marvelous visions while he slept which left him “resolved to win heaven, if possible.” He “kept eight out of ten commandments,” but that just was not enough.[13] He continued to work, and began bringing others into the fold. It was then that Vassa went on a mission to Africa. This event was an expression of one of the most telling points of his religious identity. He chose to leave his land of England, to which he had become most accustomed, in an attempt to convert the poor Africans who knew not of Christ. This suggested a complete renunciation of his old beliefs, and showed that he felt it would be best for all Africans to do the same. Gustavus Vassa was a Christian.

            Despite the author’s dichotomous descriptions of his own identity, subtle evidence indicated his identity as an English Christian. His identity changed over time, away from his folk-customs, society, and religion of Africa and toward his Christian, sailor, gentlemanly customs of England. He placed his African name first, yet used his given slave-name most of his life. He described the civilized culture of his Africa, yet embraced the civilized culture of England. Most of all, He renounced his spiritualistic religion of Africa for Protestant Christianity. The author exemplified his dualistic identity in his closing remarks to the Queen, “I am, your Majesty’s most dutiful and devoted Servant to command, GUSTAVUS VASSA, The Oppressed Ethiopian.”[14]

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[1] Olaudah Equiano, The Interesting Narrative of the life of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus Vassa, the African, 1814, in The Classic Slave Narratives, ed. Henry Louis Gates, Jr., (Penguin: NY, 2002) 15.

[2] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 66.

[3] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 81, 229, 230.

[4] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 29-39.

[5] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 228.

[6] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 67, 81.

[7] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 88, 98.

[8] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 166-183.

[9] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 32.

[10] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 39-40.

[11] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 81.

[12] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 97-98.

[13] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 191-192.

[14] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 247.

Divergent Paths: The Revolutionary Generations of Slavery in America, Berlin Part III

In Part I of his book Many Thousands Gone: The First Two Centuries of Slavery in North America, Ira Berlin discussed the ways Atlantic Creoles, highly cultured peoples of mixed race, shaped the charter generations of African slaves in mainland North America. Part II moved forward chronologically and focused on the Creoles’ successors: the plantation generations, which spread and led to the degradation of black life across North America. Part III, the final section in Berlin’s book, discussed what he referred to as the revolutionary generations. Berlin’s argument focused on the third transformation in the lives of black people in the mainland North America. Seizing the ideas of equality, slaves challenged their masters’ authority, though often unsuccessfully. Berlin claimed that this transformation differed according to the various situations in each region. Freedom only succeeded in the North, and even that was slow and imperfect. Slaves in the Upper South fought hard, but slavery did not crack. The planters of the Lower South clamped down very hard, crushing any thoughts or musings of abolition. The Lower Mississippi Valley emerged with a sharp division between the degraded plantation slaves and the flourishing urban Creoles. Berlin’s organization in this book was impeccable when compared with another book from our class by Edward Gray.

            The great democratic revolutions of the eighteenth century—the French, the American, and the Haitian—set the stage for the third transformation for black people in North America. As mentioned above, slaves took hold of the “egalitarian ideal” and pushed against their masters’ control. They fought to remake themselves and often demanded freedom. The American Revolutionary War offered new leverage and opportunity to challenge both the institution of chattel bondage and structure of white supremacy. Some planters offered their slaves freedom in exchange for military service. The planters’ concessions slowly chipped away at their position within the slave society.[1]

            The context and rhetoric of universal equality permeated the American Colonies during this period. Slavery did not mesh with this emerging rhetoric and further strengthened slaves’ hands. An evangelical upsurge, focused on universal equality before God, accompanied the socio-political focus on the same. Slaves’ physical liberation became intertwined with their spiritual liberation. The brutal slave society of Saint Domingue caught wind of the revolutionary changes in France, and a dispute between free people soon escalated into a full-fledged slave insurrection. By the time the French could get to the island, a free Haiti had emerged. The events of Saint Domingue resonated throughout North America. Free people—slaveholders and non-slaveholders alike—were terrified at such a possibility. Slaves pressed for more control over their own lives, while slave owners smothered the slaves’ expectations and increased their control.[2]

            Berlin Argued that freedom progressed very slowly and unevenly. Only a very small fraction of slaves were actually liberated during this period. In fact, there were more people in bondage after the revolutionary generations than before. Planters fought to reopen the slave trade, a fight which they eventually won. Slave owners pondered the implications of the Declaration of Independence on the Peculiar Institution. This led to a dangerous and twisted reading of the Declaration: if indeed all men were created equal, then perhaps those slaves who remained in their degraded state were not men at all. Thus, the document that set in motion the freedom of many thousands of people led to the repression of thousands more.[3]

            The Age of Revolution, as Berlin referred to it, set in motion two “profoundly different, overlapping, and sometimes conflicting reconstructions.”[4] Liberated people redefined freedom, and enslaved people redefined slavery. As bondmen became free they took on new names, jobs, and residences. They created families, and those families came together to form new communities. Those communities created institutions such as churches, schools, and political caucuses, which white people did not like. Slaves, at the same time, pushed for what advantages they could obtain, such as matters of labor discipline, cultural independence, and institutional independence. Over time, distinctions between free Blacks and slaves became very pronounced. Slaves moved westward toward new plantation lands, while free Blacks moved toward the city. By the end of the revolutionary generations, this divergence led to legal status becoming the most important distinction among Black people in North America.[5]

            Berlin began his assessment of each region with the only example of freedom winning out: the northern states. Nowhere, he argued, did the ideas of the American Revolution hit black society harder than in the North. Revolutionary ideals moved northern slavery backward, first eliminating the remnants of slave society, replacing them with a society with slaves, and eventually transforming it into a free society. This was, however, a very slow and “torturous process.” New York and New Jersey implemented gradual emancipation, locking some slaves into bondage until death and others’ children into bondage for decades. Even after slaves were freed, they remained in a degraded state plagued by discriminatory laws and practices that were aimed at keeping black people dependent.[6]

            Despite the difficult position freed slaves in the North found themselves in, they worked hard and quickly to give meaning to their new status. Freedmen changed their names in an attempt to take control. Moving into new residences, free Blacks found their own jobs and pursued new careers. Freedmen created new communities to build strength and identity as a group, and these new communities created institutions. Churches, schools, and fraternal societies were common among these new Black communities, and offered new opportunities for growth within the larger, white society. A new leadership class emerged and worked hard to maintain unity within these African-American societies. But with new solidarity came new division. Legal, cultural, and racial status became sources of hot contention within the new societies: slaves against former slaves, rural cultures against urban cultures, blacks against people of mixed race. In tragically ironic fashion, once slaves were freed from the oppression and discrimination of slavery, they created new forms of the same amongst themselves.[7]

            Berlin transitioned his argument from the Northern colonies to the Upper South. Previously in his book, Berlin referred to this region as the Chesapeake, which created a more pronounced division between the colonies of Maryland and Virginia and the colonies of the Deep South. It was perhaps a rhetorical gesture to start using the name Upper South in this section, because this period distanced the Chesapeake colonies farther from the North and pulled them closer to the Deep South. As in the Northern colonies, slaves hammered hard against the institution of slavery. Unlike in the in Northern colonies, the institution did not budge. The republicanism and evangelical focus on equality battered the social and political rhetoric that flourished during this period. Yet amongst all the rhetoric, the colonies of the Upper South barely faltered.[8]

            Despite its core dependency on slavery, some areas on the periphery devolved into societies with slaves. This was perhaps mostly a result of declining economic need for slavery in these few areas. Many slaves in these areas were freed, and there began to emerge a simultaneous expansion of black slavery and freedom that redefined black life in the Upper South. These two groups did not strictly diverge among cultural and economic lines as similar groups did in the North. In the Upper South, slave and free blacks united, and occupied the same families, churches, communities, and workplaces. A two-caste system emerged in the region that placed the stark boundary between whites and blacks that would define this region throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.[9]

            The Revolutionary rhetoric that made such changes in the North and the Upper South echoed much differently in the Lower South. Though the American Revolution disrupted slavery, the victory over the British affirmed planters’ power. These slave owners obtained new tools with which to both maintain and expand slavery. There was no abolition as there was in North; there were no musings of emancipation as there were in the Upper South. The Lower South maintained its slave society to the fullest extent. They reopened the Atlantic slave trade and reaffirmed their commitment to the institution and expansion of slavery.[10]

             The restoration and growth of slavery in the Lower South redefined life for African-
Americans. The black majority on the plantation, along with the increased importation of African slaves deepened the connection between Africa and America. The relatively small number of free blacks joined slaves in urban areas to expand their liberty. They dared not use the language of the Declaration of Independence, for the planters in the Lower South took any egalitarian rhetoric as inciting insurrection. Much like the black communities in the North, the small number of free blacks separated themselves from the bondmen and left them to fend for themselves. There was no unity between black people of different legal status or racial composition. A three-caste system emerged within the Lower South: white on the top, brown in the middle, and black on the bottom.[11]

            The last region Berlin focused on was the lower Mississippi Valley, which experienced a very sharp division between slaves on the plantation and Creoles in the cities. The Revolution benefitted free blacks in the cities as they were relied on to join the military in case of invasion. These Creoles looked to the American-European world to establish their roots. The free black population grew dramatically in urban areas, and their communities pressed for full equality as they grew in wealth. Plantation slaves, on the other hand, experienced rapid growth that surpassed any other region in North America. Sugar and cotton shot to the center of the plantation world, which placed the lower Mississippi Valley in the center with them. Spanish authorities reopened the slave trade and transformed the Valley into a slave society. Expansion and “reafricanization” further separated urban free blacks from their plantation counterparts, creating a three-caste system similar to that of the Lower South.[12]

            Berlin presented his argument immaculately throughout the book. He organized each of the three parts meticulously to provide a clear flow within and between sub-arguments. His organization was much easier to navigate than the other textbook from our class, Colonial America: A History in Documents by Edward G. Gray. Gray’s organization was adequate at best. There were times throughout the book when it was hard to pinpoint his argument. It seemed as though Gray compiled a random assortment of primary documents and tried to jam them together into one book. Berlin, on the other hand, had a clear argument with very clear sub-arguments in every part and every chapter of his book.

            The Age of Revolution had a wide variety of effects on slavery in the individual regions of North America. Slaves in the North experienced slow but eventual emancipation. Slaves in the Upper South rarely experienced freedom, but they were closely tied to free blacks. Plantation slaves in the Lower South experienced a tightened grip by their masters, while slaves of the lower Mississippi Valley experienced this tightening perhaps even more than in any other region. Berlin’s organization, unlike Gray’s, made it very easy to navigate and understand his argument. Overall his argument succeeded. He progressed through the three parts of his book clearly and portrayed the consistencies and differences in a well constructed manner. Berlin masterfully conquered this topic in a powerful and enticing way.

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[1] Ira Berlin, Many Thousands Gone: The First Two Centuries of Slavery in North America, (Cambridge: Harvard U.P., 1998), 219.

[2] Berlin, 220-223.

[3] Berlin, 223-224.

[4] Berlin, 224.

[5] Berlin, 224-227.

[6] Berlin, 228.

[7] Berlin, 229.

[8] Berlin, 256.

[9] Berlin, 256, 289.

[10] Berlin, 290.

[11] Berlin, 291.

[12] Berlin, 325-26.