Wednesday 28 August 2013

A sleepless dream

 "Is a dream a lie if it don't come true,
or is it something worse?"
(Bruce Springsteen)

"A Change Is Gonna Come"  Sam Cooke (1963)


 
 "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere."
(Dr Martin Luther King)

On this day, Wednesday 28th August, exactly fifty years ago, a soft cheeked and slightly portly black American thirties-something stood up in front of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C. to address more than a quarter of a million people. A fervent and eloquent Baptist minister, he eventually veered off his prepared speech, encouraged or even heckled by his friend, renowned Gospel singer Mahalia Jackson, to "Tell them about the dream, Martin!" As he improvised around his own vision of a united and just world, the fiery preacher in him came to the fore. With a single phrase, the minister from Atlanta, Georgia, joined the ranks of Jefferson and Lincoln and those whose words have helped to define modern America: "I have a dream today."
The rally was the Great March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, one of the largest political or human rights rallies in the history of the United States. The march was organised by civil rights activists, labour groups and religious bodies, with the theme of jobs and freedom. Supportive of the innovations of the Kennedy administration, the march is widely credited with helping to pass the 1964 Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act the year after.
The Baptist minister was of course the Reverend Dr Martin Luther King Junior. He had helped organise the rally, but his address to the masses at Washington and the watching world established him as one of the greatest natural orators in American history. Unfortunately, it also established his reputation as a radical, who would become the object of the Federal Bureau of Investigation's attentions for the remaining five years of his life.
The "Dream" speech is a masterpiece of rhetoric and poetry. King invoked the Declaration of Independence, the Emancipation Proclamation and the United States' Constitution. He alluded to both Lincoln's Gettysburg Address and William Shakespeare. The pastor in King referred poignantly to Psalm 30 and also quoted from the Book of Isaiah. King's speech has now been ranked the most important American speech of the 20th century by scholars of public address. It is as accessible, emotive and relevant today as in the long hot summer of 1963. Clearly, the power of the dream is still alive ; but does that mean little has changed?
Fifty years ago, King's words so moved my father that he copied out the full text, nearly twenty minutes long. I found the notebook in his study, long after Dad had passed away. When I myself was a fifteen year old Rebel Without a Clue, Dad encouraged me to properly read Dr King's speeches, particularly the Washington address. At the time, I was outraged that fascist groups marching through south London were being given police escort. My Dad explained that freedom has to be indivisible: you cannot have your own human rights at another's expense: my first real lesson in the intricate but simplistic truth of equality.
Today, a handsome and charismatic black man sits in the oval shaped office in the white mansion on the hill in Washington D.C. Now in his historic second term of office, President Barack Hussein Obama is married to the strong and beautiful great-granddaughter of African American slaves. In line with Dr King's own vision, Obama's daughters will study and socialise with girls and boys of all cultures and creeds. When I was fifteen, I dreamt this might happen but it still seemed improbable.
Yet the president struggles with his own Senate to establish healthcare and social protection for the disadvantaged of all colours. Inspite of Obama's extraordinary rise, the Senate's glass ceiling for African Americans still seems largely unbreakable. In 1963, there were no sitting African American senators in Congress; this year, briefly, there were two, for the first time in history. Incredibly, in Obama's united nation only three states have ever elected black senators.
In recent weeks, when an innocent black American youth was gunned down after being mistaken for a potential offender because of his colour, age and dress, Obama ruefully noted that the boy might have been him thirty years ago, or indeed one of his own offspring today.
I've reproduced some of the "Dream" speech here, lifting away direct references to places and events in America. The message remains undiluted in universality. The bloody reality of racial and cultural prejudice and genocide stalks through Egypt and Syria and across the globe today. Even in comparatively safe and liberal areas in the UK, such as my own Brighton, division between the haves and the have-nots is palpable and increasingly uncomfortable.
We have still have far to go to realise Dr King's dream. He told us that: "Faith is taking he first step, even when you can't see the whole staircase."  The reverence of his Washington speech today continues to lift people onto that first step. You've got to have a dream; if not, how you gonna make a dream come true?




"I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this cheque, a cheque that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and security of justice.
We have also come to his hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is not time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism.
Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy.
Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice.
Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.
Now is the time to make justice a reality to all of God's children.
You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed. We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the colour of their skin but by their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be engulfed, every hill shall be exalted and every mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plains and the crooked places will be made straight and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to climb up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning: "My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring!"
When we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every tenement and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old spiritual: "Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty, we are free at last."


 
 
"How many years can a mountain exist
before it's washed to the sea?
How many years can some people exist
before they're allowed to be free?
Yes and how many times can a man turn his head,
pretending he just doesn't see?
The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind."
(Robert Zimmerman)
 
"Blowin' in the Wind"  Peter, Paul and Mary (version)
 
 

The roar of the Tigger

 "Only the weak are cruel. True gentleness can only be expected from the strong."
(Leo Buscaglia)

 
"Nothing is so strong as gentleness, nothing so gentle as real strength."
(St Francis de Sales) 
 

When I was a little girl, I decided I was going to be Tarzan's Jane in the jungle: the jungle in question clearly my parent's long, lawned back garden, complete with trees, swing, vegetable patch and Dad's mysterious homemade shed. Within a year or so, I decided the jungle was a bit tame and Tarzan probably a tad boring and made the career choice of Doctor Who's Assistant. And this was long before I became smitten with David Tennant (best Doctor Who ever).
Often easily thwarted by my own lack of self-confidence, I can be utterly fearless in situations larger than the petty scrutiny of appearance, background or what is appropriate behaviour or position. I have a friend who believes that most folk can be identified with the characters from "Winnie the Pooh" stories; recently, she announced that I was "definitely a bit Tigger". Apparently, the similarity has much to do with my energy and enthusiasm rather than my bottom being made out of springs... Although I do tend to bounce about a bit when I'm particularly excited or enthused by something. Like Tigger, I do have a tendency to climb up things with no real consideration for how (or capacity) to get down again. Also like Tigger, I can appear mindlessly courageous when I am actually most scared and simply wanting to be stroked and given a slice of treacle tart. His bravado is usually borne from loyalty and protectiveness rather than cussedness or aggression; I like Tigger.
I was actually born in the Chinese year of the Tiger, a favourite animal of mine. I love cats, and tigers are just whiskery, big pawed, stripey kittycats. But I also love their sinewy prowess and effortless, graceful strength; if only they could embrace vegetarianism. There's a palpable power in gracefulness, as there is an ingenuity in the most instinctive courage. Although the Sunday school meekness that will inherit the earth is often seen as interchangeable with gentleness, I've always felt that true gentleness can be as in-your-face as the loudest roar.
Someone in my neighbourhood is trying to push me around at the moment; attempted bullying, if you will. I find it upsetting, most simply because I've tried to help and support this person. I've tried to show them kindness and tolerance. I realise now that they've interpreted my own brand of gentleness as vulnerability and weakness, probably enabled by my stature, blondeness and penchant for floral frocks.
I don't like aggression and find slanging matches distasteful and wearying. On a rugby pitch, I would much prefer to deploy my dummy sidestep and sprint rather than throw myself headfirst into a tackle. In spite of any health glitches, I'm aware of and thankful for my physical strength; I could definitely kick-box my way out of a paper bag, but I would infinitelyy prefer to dance or cuddle.
 
 
 
Christians learn about God's "relentless" tenderness and mercy as an essence of our faith. Aside from organised religion, our greatest heroes of justice and righteousness, folk like Martin Luther King, Mahatma Gandhi and most recently Nelson Mandela, have been staggering in their graciousness; their words of reconciliation resonate around the world and across class and culture. These people were natural leaders, defenders and champions; far from pushovers. Vociferously pacifist, they sadly also became threats to those whose insecurities fester on force, division and control.
Gentleness doesn't have to be meek; it's a bold, brave and sometimes isolating path to take through today's hyperactive, hyperbolic world. You have to be pretty tough to maintain your grace in the face of spite and injustice. It's very empowering to realise that refusing to claw your way up and over others has lifted you out of the fray. Personally, I believe that my God would want me to turn the other cheek, but still avoid being bitch-slapped in the first instance. I hope I'll always have enough self respect as well as compassion to refrain from back-biting and snarling; but the occasional roar from a lamb can confound the hungriest lion in the jungle.
If anyone from the BBC should ever stumble upon this blog, I would still like to be Doctor Who's Assistant. 
 
  
"When you encounter difficulties and contradictions, do not try to break them, but bend them with gentleness and time."
(St Francis de Sales)
 
  
"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a
listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all
of which have the potential to turn a life around."
(Leo Buscaglia) 
 

 
"Roar"  Katy Perry
 
 

Tuesday 13 August 2013

Pride without prejudice

  

"What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars."
(William Wordsworth)
 
The celebration now known as "Brighton Pride" is now in it's 40th year. Incredibly, the first march or parade was a smallish affair organised by the Sussex Gay Liberation Front in 1973; a mere seven years earlier and such a gathering of predominantly openly"out and proud" homosexuality could have culminated in custodial sentences. As in recent years, this Brighton Pride Weekend of 3rd and 4th August saw gay police officers from the city marching at the height of the parade. For the sixth successive year, they were joined by gay officers from the Hampshire and Isle of Wight constabularies, men and women and all proudly in uniform.
The Pride festivities are now organised by a specially created community-interest company, enabling and producing events that celebrate lesbian, gay, bi-sexual and trans-gender lives. The weekend now extends beyond the parade and the music festival in Preston Park to include a city-wide arts and film festival. Brighton Pride always aims to raise not only awareness, smiles and spirits but also funds for local community groups and charities. These essentially include HIV and AIDS support groups. As a former voluntary carer and fundraiser for the Terrence Higgins Trust, I'm always heartened to see THT's friendly and inclusive presence at such events. This year, it's estimated that more than £40,000 has been raised for the collective "Rainbow Fund".
In fact, general inclusivity across the parade and celebrations was bright and evident in Brighton this year. I was working over the Pride weekend and didn't really intend to join the parade or activities, but the theatrical enthusiasm was infectious. The theme of the festivities this year was gay icons across the arts and media. I found myself queuing in my local Aldi behind two male Monroes and ahead of a variety of Freddie Mercury and Cher lookalikes. Even iconic-wannabees fancy a bargain. I wandered past what I refer to as my local cheap-frock shop, only to find they were offering multi-coloured tutus as "buy one get one free". The rather skimpily curtained changing cubicles were full of delightful but quite large gentlemen taking advantage of the tutu sale: I had my doubts about their ballet credentials.
My one unwitting concession to the very sunny Pride weekend was to wear a homestead sundress and a straw cowboy hat from the 99p Shop. Along the walk home I was serenaded and yeehaw-ed at by a variety of cowboys, cowgirls and Native American Indians. Clearly, I had forgotten about the impact of the (beautiful) film "Brokeback Mountain"; and the cherished close partnership of The Lone Ranger and Tonto. As I emerged back onto Lewes Road, a Lady GaGa, Bugs Bunny, complete with carrot, and two very male, very bare-chested nuns tickled me as I went past their group. Turns out that Sally Field as The Flying Nun is a definite gay icon - who knew? The tickling incident was a bit of a shock although not unpleasant; I still haven't worked out where dear ol' Bugs Bunny fits into all this.
Attendance estimates for the weekend seem to vary wildly this year too; from the very conservative police figure of 30,000 to the extravagant 150,000 from some of the official sponsors. As with most things in life, the truth rests somewhere in the shade of the two extremes. As George Bernard Shaw suggested, life is not so much about finding yourself as it is about creating yourself. Obviously the good-natured openness and tolerance I witnessed locally extended across the city and over the whole weekend: there were about forty arrests in the city that weekend, probably the same as on any other hot summer weekend at the seaside.
When I first moved to Brighton, I found the tone of Pride quite different. Always promoted as a family celebration, it started to feel a little exclusive to me as a heterosexual female; although I felt saddened rather than threatened. My sexuality and my beliefs, including my Catholicism, sit very comfortably with dear friends made over the years who happen to be gay and the respect and affection I have for the gay community in Brighton. Essentially, I believe Brighton Pride must be inclusive to all ages, genders, sexualities and values to remain valid as well as supported. The point is that every gay man and woman is someone's son, daughter, brother, sister, possibly someone's parent; a police officer, a nurse, your neighbour, a friend.
I have no problem with Brighton Pride being proud, as long as it remains valiant rather than becoming arrogant. I'd actually like to see a celebration of self-worth extend beyond the gay community in Brighton, indeed beyond the city. A few days after Pride 2013, I've had to yet again complain to the city council about the street I live in being used as a little city dump. One person leaves a broken vacuum cleaner in the road, another person leaves a chair, then a large broken mirror appears propped up perilously against the side of a house. The street cleaner still isn't cleaning one side of the road, presumably because of the debris on the pavement.

This area is made up of whole streets of largely rented properties and this is the heart of campus country. After an attempted break-in at my little house the other week, a well-intentioned policeman sympathised that my area is disadvantaged and therefore resentful He noted that if people haven't grown up here or simply feel "dumped" here, the lack of strong roots can destroy the growth of future community. I do feel that when folk have no sense of connection with where they find themselves in life, there's no concept of pride in where they live and sadly, sometimes in how they treat others.
"Pride" is a widely used yet perhaps little understood word. With a negative connotation, often synonymous with "hubris", it refers to an inflated sense of self, often at the expense of all else; in Christianity, one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Yet the word itself originates from the Latin "prodis" - "to be of use or service". Through time, this evolved into the Old French and English words for valiant and noble.
With a positive connotation, pride can refer to a sense of attachment towards one's own choices, beliefs or actions, and towards others. It can be the worthy product of self-reflection, a sense of appreciation, a feeling of fulfilment or belonging. There's a sense of exaltation in the mindset behind Brighton Pride which I feel St Augustine himself would have appreciated. His take on pride without prejudice was that we should have a sense of our own "excellence", to the glory of God who created us; including that bouncy young man so wonderfully dressed as Bugs Bunny. And my fabulous bargain Stetson.
 
 
"Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves; vanity, to what we would have others think of us."
(Jane Austen)
 
 
 
 
The Rainbow Fund
Sussex Community Foundation
Falcon Wharf
Railway Lane
LEWES
BN7 2AQ
 
 
 
  
"Pride makes us artificial and humility makes us real."
(Thomas Merton)

"Pride perceiving humility honourable, often borrows her cloak."
(Thomas Fuller)
 
"Pride does not wish to owe and vanity does not wish to pay."
(Francois de la Rochefoucauld)

 (Photo: Gigi, album)
Yeehaw x


"Wake Me Up When It's All Over" Avicii