I live where a lot of the black community did not face segregation, did not face the Jim Crow Law, and often the black community here made themselves a valuable part of this place.
When I did some looking, I found out this,” March 24, 1837 – Canada gives African American citizens the right to vote.” This means that we had people who were from the US and happened to be black the vote. They needed to have some form of land or income, but when they were already here for years and could own land, work, and go to school (albeit in some places black only) they could vote.
When Barack Obama was declared the next President of the US, I punched the air, yelled “Yes!” and was so glad to see the end of President Bush I cried with happiness. Imagine the contrast here. A white, Texan man is now replaced by a man, a real man, who just happens to be black and very intelligent. The contrast is totally amazing! This changes the dynamics of an entire country, mentally, emotionally and certainly politically. About bloody high time!
Without living within a society where the black community was ostracized, it has been a lifetime of confusion for me. What is the difference between a person with darker pigmentation and someone with a lighter pigmentation? I still may not get it yet.
This may be because I was raised in a community where the families were integrated. I went to school with kids who were German, French, First Nations, Black, Ukrainian, Polish, Italian, virtually all the world. I do remember one day vividly though. My parents had just moved into a new development and a new house. One day a woman showed up at our door with a petition. My mother answered the door and was shown the petition, which was being signed by some of the neighbours. The petition was designed to demand that a family of black ancestry be barred from buying a home in the new community.
My mother took one look at the petition, one look at the woman and became furious. Certainly not the reaction the woman was looking for. Mom told that woman, ” Take this piece of filth away from my house, and take yourself with it. I have no problem with any family who can buy a home here to do so. ” My mother had a voice that would make most sargeant majors quiver when she got angry, so her fury must have been spectacular! The woman tried to argue that the property values would go down if this family were allowed to move in. That did it!! Another woman Mom recognized from a local church appeared and tried to join in. Oh Oh!! Not a good idea when dealing with fury! Mom glared at both women, then her voice got icy hard, cold and her fury broke completely. “Get off my doorstep! Get out of my yard! Get away from my family, my children, and NEVER, EVER darken this doorstep AGAIN!”
The following month all those who signed that petition, knowing Mom had seen all their names, avoided her, and if they couldn’t, they knew she would speak in fury to them. Then the family that did want to buy the house found one in the community, bought and I went to school with them all. The family learned of my mother’s fury, her absolute support, and they were always glad to see us.
This was in the mid 1950’s, mind you, long before emancipation walks, Martin Luther King, and all those protests. We had lived with all kinds of people moving here to overcome prejudice, overcome political abuse, overcome the Second World War and it’s bloody heritage. Germans in most of the world were seen as ugly, blamed for everything Hitler did. My best friend in school for years was born here, but both parents were german speaking immigrants. I just accepted them as part of our school, part of the community, and never did realize just how much they faced from the residue of the war. So, for me, this election seems in one way perfectly natural, and yet, long, long overdue in a modern society.
Blacks in this country have moved here since the early beginnings of the US, some of them from the war of independence, to own property, to become leaders, to have voting rights, to live among the society here. Yes there were some who, like those two women, who tried to make trouble, but for the most part, we lived together.
Click here for only one small part of the history of the pioneers here. I grew up knowing about John Ware, his strength, his ability as a rancher, his respect among those in the ranching industry, but it was not until I became an adult that I happened to find out he was even black, let alone that he was born into a slavery family as a child.
