Road Trip

Today, I'm off on a road trip--something I don't do very often alone. I'll carry bread from my favorite bakery, several journals, some poetry to read at the conference and some Vernors for my host who is a native Detroiter. I'll pack my favorite music and head off to a place I've never been before, temporarily untethered--except by cell phone-- to the life I lead here. I'll recall road trips from the past--one in particular--taken in a restored 1942 Studebaker. We were more adventurous then--a few dollars in our pockets and we could move across the country, crash with friends for a few weeks and find a new place, another life. It's not so easy now--burdened with stuff--antiques, books, photo albums, artwork, computers, the kids' stuffed animals...

A question sometimes posed is: "what would you take to a desert island?" I'd like to put a more pedestrian question out there--"What would you put in a Ford Focus wagon and where would you go if you had a one-year paid sabbatical?" Think about it and get back to me.

The following email came today and cheered me up tremendously! This young woman was a student of mine several years ago and faced many difficulties simply finishing high school--only one of which was a pregnancy at the age of 12. But, she now can speak very well for herself!

Hello Friends and Family,

As many of you know the week of October 24-30, 2005, I was in Lansing, MI attending the Thomas Cooley Law School qualifying program. The program was very intensive, and I believe the most intellectually challenging task I ever was involved in. There were 31 people in the program from all over. We had people from Jamaica, Africa, LA, Vegas, and many other states from the East to the West Coast. We studied the 7 different intentional torts: battery, assault, false imprisonment, intentional infliction of emotional distress, trespass to chattel, trespass to land, and conversion. In one week, we were taught how to brief a case and use legal analysis to write out the different elements of the law. It was unreal how complex the laws of our land are. We were only studying seven laws, but getting down the format and the language used to make an argument for or against the plaintiff was unlike anything I have ever done. Although the week- long studying was very intensive, it made me want to learn the law even more. We had 3 people leave the program without even notifying the coordinator that they were quitting. It made me feel good that although I was struggling, I stayed the course and gave my best possible effort. So right now I have to wait until the 15th or so, and I will know if I am indeed admitted into Thomas Cooley Law School. In the meanwhile, I am still taking classes for my master's in management and public administration with a gpa of 4.0.
I must say that I truly appreciate all the support that each and everyone of you have given me as I try to make a better future for my daughter and myself. I know that with God's will I will be sending out an email letting everyone know that I have been admitted into law school for 2006, so look for another email from me in the next weeks to come. I hope that everyone is doing well and please if I haven't heard from you in a while drop me a line and let me know how you are doing.

Well, since receiving this email, I'm doing a lot better!

Greater and Greater Grace

I'm glad I made the effort (walking about 3 miles, standing in line for 3 1/2 hours) to get into Greater Grace Temple where Rosa Parks' funeral was held yesterday. It was a glorious Indian summer day and I parked my car about a mile or so away from the church on a small neighbor side street because 7 Mile Road was closed--(I know you only know 8 Mile, but we have lots of mile roads in Detroit.)

Anyway, I walked to the end of the line- which was about 1/2 mile long by the time I arrived and found myself next to a tiny, well dressed, elderly, light-skinned American American woman, using a cane. We struck up a conversation and I learned that she was 85-years old and had been born in Kentucky, but raised in Michigan. Since it was 7:30 a.m. and the funeral was to begin at 11:00 a.m., we faced a long time in line together--and the possibility of never getting in at all.

I told her I was a teacher and had a strong interest in American history--particularly of the civil rights era --since I was tangentially aware of it as a child and became more outraged by injustice as a teenager. I told her of my dual upbringing--born in the south, raised in the north--school year in the north--summers in Mississippi. I asked her to tell me about her life--as much as she wanted to. It was fascinating to hear her own version of the Rosa Parks' incident--she was 19 years old, taking the bus from Wayne State when she was asked to stand and move to the back. She reported that she had resisted only briefly. But it was 10 years before Rosa Parks! I reminded her that Rosa Parks had the backing of SCLC and was much older than she had been.

As we talked, the few people within earshot began to listen intently to our conversation. She was quiet, well-spoken and warm, and I gently prodded and asked more and more questions, pushing for more details. She told me of how she marched in Detroit with Dr. King and of problems she had as the only black dietician in her class at Wayne State. She had attended a private school in Kentucky that was run by northern white women who believed in the education of young black women...Reminiscent of Zora Neale Hurston's experiences. One of the people in the crowd asked where we "stayed"--thinking we were together. It was only then that I realized that she and I were really about the same "shade." I never asked her, but I wondered if she had ever been about to "pass."

I told her of some of my experiences and how proud I was that many of my former students, all African American women, were in college or working professional jobs. I didn't tell her how many were pregnant and I failed to mention the one who had been fatally shot while at an after- hours club. I figured she'd already had 85 years of bad news.

Finally, just before being allowed to enter the church, I asked to know her name and gave her mine. We shook hands and found ourselves nearly the last two people allowed inside. I had to keep up with her as she wove her way through the enormous corridors--she had been in Greater Grace before--and she led me to the side chapel where an enormous screen had been set up. As we entered, the service was beginning and she burst into song--with a voice as strong and pure as I had ever heard! She knew all of the scriptural readings by heart, too.

Together, we sat for the next 5 hours listening to some of the most moving and powerful speakers this country has to offer--people who can move others to tears, laughter, and shame--all with words! Starting with former President Bill Clinton, who had to leave early, and moving to Rev. Al Sharpton who was unbelievably followed by Minister Louis Farrakhan, and Barak Obama, and so many others, one after another, they seemed to be able to lift the crowd to higher and higher ground. To see all of these people at once--together-- was unbelievable. My own little Rosa Parks and I clapped together, bowed our heads together and laughed together, too.

As I left, I thanked her for spending the day with me--I don't know what compelled me to go to that funeral, but meeting this woman was just what I needed--.

Rosa Parks Service

I'm going to try to get into Greater Grace tomorrow for Rosa Parks service--somehow the civil rights movement has framed and embraced my life. I was born in the south and raised in the north--but my grandmother's Mississippi farm was very near the river where the three civil rights workers were found--and although I don't have clear memories, I was very aware of the "race problem" as I was growing up. Barefoot black kids came into my grandmother's grocery store during the summers I spent there.

It upset me that America was mired in hypocracy--and ultimately, my most important experiences were involved with teaching in this city. I gravitated to this challenge. Most of my students are African American and I'm very interested in how they view the world. I'm also aware of how I can help them negotiate college if only they'll believe in themselves. I wrote them all emails today saying we needed to work harder together. Detroit faces a mayoral election this next week--and it's all about trust.