Tell Them We Are Rising
TELL THEM WE ARE RISING
TAKE ONE/ 16
February 2018
Scene: Ashé
Power House, 1731 Baronne Street, New Orleans, LA
Act: PBS/Indie
Lens Film Screening: "Tell Them We Are Rising: The Story of Black Colleges
and Universities"
Purpose: To view a
short version of Stanley Nelson's most recent documentary, a visual narrative
of many narratives, designed "to tell the dynamic story of Americans who
refused to be denied a higher education and ---in their resistance --- created
a set of institutions that would influence and shape the landscape of the
country for centuries to come." (quoted from Ashé Cultural Arts Center newsletter, February 2018)
Brief report on
TAKE ONE
My
impressions of this documentary were prejudiced by (1) the advertising of the
film, (2) my intimate knowledge of HBCUs from having been on the faculty of two
of them for 42 years, and (3) the testimonial delivered by Dr. Lisa
Mims-Devezin , Interim Chancellor of
Southern University at New Orleans, prior to the showing of the film. The testimonial was a variant of a well-known genre, the
sermon for the choir, its only fresh aspect being Dr. Mims-Devezin's sharing of
autobiographical facts. Like many of us in the audience who are alumni of
HBCUs, she has unqualified love for her alma mater. I am anxious to see the
documentary and more than slightly bored by a sermon I might myself deliver. My
privileged knowledge of the histories of two HBCUs --- Tougaloo College and
Dillard University---positions me to be at once sympathetically and
severely critical of the documentary; I know too much of the public
histories as well as the undocumented "fictions" of these
institutions and can only be impressed by Nelson's excavation of the deep
structures of history. That the
advertising claims the rich history of HBCUs "yet remains largely
unknown" is a bit of a shock. Have
I been living for 74 years in a nation that is ill-informed about its
mindscape? Have I lived for seven
decades among moral and ethical criminals? When I view the complete version of
the film, I suspect I'll be less shocked and more receptive to the visual and
verbal lore of the documentary.
I do
not write any notes as I watch the film.
I don't want my attention to the film's provocation of memories to be
distorted by documentation of documentation.
There's more than enough of that in the recognitions triggered by the
faces , voices, and body language on the
screen of people I have known in real life.
I watch the film in an aura of remembering.
Certain
features (especially the information gaps)
of the short version provoke questions and complaints that may be
unfair; my analysis of what Stanley
Nelson has achieved may be insufficient.
He does a fine job of justifying the necessity for HBCUs in the history
of the United States from the 19th century period of enslavement to the present. But as is the case with so much discussion of
African American histories, the narrative remains in the prison of a racial
binary that obscures the prescient insights of Alexis de Tocqueville's Democracy in America . Tocqueville did
not buy the binary. It does foreground
the Constitutional hypocrisy that begat both
Plessy v. Ferguson and Brown v. Board
of Topeka, Kansas as well as
detailing in a poignant way the crucial roles of Charles Hamilton Houston and
the Howard University School of Law in linking both cases. Houston's trickster
strategy regarding the "separate but equal" doctrine ( alabaster
treachery) was most judicious. That is highly commendable. Less commendable is the ill-nuanced recounting
of ideological tension between two giants of African American higher education,
Booker T. Washington and W.E. B. DuBois.
These royal battles in our histories , manufactured mainly by OUTSIDERS
and granted credibility by INSIDERS, ought to be scrutinized with extreme care.
We have had a surplus of them ----Hughes
v. Cullen and Schuyler; Richard Wright v.
Zora Neale Hurston; Malcolm X v.
Martin Luther King, Jr. ; etc. I am weary of battles that distort the normality of honest
disagreement. And why does a documentary about rising seem to end with
loaded hints about falling?
Comments to the
Ashé audience
The
film should be used to think critically about more than HBCUs; it should force
us to think about what is happening to higher education in the USA. All colleges and universities are "at
risk" in one sense or another.
Nelson cannot give us the whole story, because each existing college has
a unique historical narrative that is still unfolding. The whole story is not limited, as the film suggests,
to the black and the white. Recall that we and all American institutions of
higher learning occupy space stolen from the earliest inhabitants of what we
call North America. Genocide and
removal and simultaneous
exclusion/inclusion are chapters of the story we can't ignore, whether they are
told or not told in the film.
I am
not optimistic about the future of HBCUs.
Those that are public will become less obviously "black." And many years ago a former president of
Spelman and I agreed that by 2050, only five private HBCUs would be
viable. Mark my words. Remember in 2051 that I told you so.
February 16, 2018
TAKE TWO/ 19
February 2018 (prelude)
Scene: 1928 Gentilly Blvd., New Orleans, LA 70119
Purpose: To view the complete PBS documentary and take
notes for commentary.
Preparation: Re-reading DuBois's 1924 Fisk lecture
"Diuturni Silenti."
February 17, 2018
TAKE TWO/19
February 2018 8:00-9:25 p.m. CST (a
lamentation)
The
documentary crafted by Stanley Nelson and Marco Williams as seen on WYES-TV
(New Orleans) needs a more informative subtitle ---" The Story of Black
Colleges and Universities Predicated on Evidence of Things Unsaid and Thing
Unseen." It is wanting as a
narrative of affirmation. It is less
powerful in making its point than Spike Lee's "School Daze," and can
serve best as a catalyst for continual discussion of the as yet unfinished
story. The notes I scribbled attest to
my disappointment.
Amidst
raving over the film "Black Panther "(2017), the hype surrounding "Tell Them We Are
Rising" (2016) pales. Even if this documentary is ultimately of greater biopolitical importance (check out Carter G. Woodson' The Mis-education of the Negro and Giorgio Agamben's Homo
Sacer) than the sci-fi blockbuster, "Black Panther," the
difficulty of Nelson's creating a praiseworthy
documentary remains. Fantasy is
seductive; in contrast, a too-thin representation
of the whole truth produces anger! Some
stories just don't lend themselves to time-limited telling. The history of HBCUs is one of them.
The
better part of compassion and sympathy leads me to shield Nelson against my
subversive note-taking and negative
habits of the heart. Thus, the barbs are not to be directed at Nelson but at an
absence of evidence in depicting a dream grown old, at the failure of a film to
succeed in ways that a hefty book might.
And as far as film is concerned, Spike Lee's satiric "School
Daze" trumps "Tell Them We Are Rising."
The
long dreams of African American struggles
to empower the mind occur on a vaster plane than is covered by colleges and
universities. And the documentary only
succeeds in sketching questions that have to be dealt with by way of ice-cold
discourses and critiques. Only those
questions can catch the lesson. To begin
the conversation "Tell Them We Are Rising" truly invites, let us
generate such bitter questions as ------
·
Given the slave ship and plantation origins of
black education, will it take as much time as was devoted to enslavement (the
peculiar institution) to undo the pervasive, collective psychological damage?
·
What do the debilitating limits of the
white/black binary preclude our knowing?
·
Can black education that is not married to black
nationalism and judicious African-centered perspectives only partially defeat demonic whiteness? Do
the "ghosts" of O.O. Howard, Samuel Armstrong, and Fayette McKenzie still haunt the United States of
America as far as higher and not-so-high education is concerned? And what must
be said about the "ghosts" that work assiduously to ensure that our
nation will drift into fascism and abide by a weird, unholy catechism?
·
What role does classical and revitalized
"lynching" play in higher education? How do the new Jim Crow and
contemporary forms of imperial desire plague African American education?
·
Is imbalance between the human sciences and STEM
which now colors PWIs, HBCUs, and other iterations of higher education a
dynamic that is beyond resolving?
·
If we revisit Booker T. Washington's famous
Atlanta Exposition address, which embodied a compromise that produced maximum
happiness in the arena of 19th century capitalism, shall we discover that 21st
century capitalism demands a parallel production of "educated" labor?
·
Does the future viability of a limited number of
HBCUs depend on specialized use of DuBois's ten critiques of black education
(1906-1960) and Carter G. Woodson's insights in The Mis-education of the
Negro?
·
Is something amiss in filmed historiography that
foregrounds Slavery, The New Negro, the Golden Age, Freedom, and Today as interrelated
"periods" through the distortions constituted by snippets of music
and body language(s)?
·
For the sake of telling how African American are
rising and falling in the 21st century arenas of public schooling and higher education, is it not obligatory to
re-theorize and re-criticize such poetry as James Weldon Johnson's "Lift Every Voice
and Sing," Claude McKay's "If We Must Die" and
"America," Langston Hughes's "Harlem," and Margaret
Walker's "For My People"? For
the sake of a more adequate telling, must we not re-engage a small library of
black radical prose?
·
Are HBCUs sufficiently unique "safe-spaces,"
or is it the case that certain endemic flaws of administration perform in
concert with rapacious racism and other
"isms" to render HBCUs no safer than any location in a dying American
democracy?
I do not abandon all hope, but I know that the
documentary's hasty optimism lacks sufficient breadth and nuance. It is, for better and for worse, a tormenting option.
Jerry W. Ward, Jr. February 20, 2018
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