The Best Christmas Ever!

     When I was about 7 years old, attending a small neighborhood school, I had a sincere fascination with the custodian at our school who always sat in the boiler room shoveling coal to keep the heat going. James was a handsome black man with the biggest smile and whitest teeth I had ever seen.  He never came out of the boiler room during the school day.  Students passed the boiler room every day going to lunch. I would always smile at James and give him a shy wave and he always gave me a smile and a wave in return. One day, as I was going to get milk for our daily morning milk break, I decided I had enough of this shy wave and smile and decided to go in and give him a big hug. However, as I entered with arms open wide, he stopped me dead in my tracks with “Oh no! Don’t come in here.”  I did not understand why, but I followed his instructions.  We continued to wave and smile at each other. Then one day, James was gone.  Weeks went by and he was not there.  I felt so sad. I finally asked my dad about James and he reluctantly told me that James had been accused of stealing money from the school office and was in jail. I immediately screamed out in tears that he did not do it, that I knew he did not do it! My heart was broken.  Now I knew where James lived in a little shack in the middle of a cotton field with a big oak tree in the front.  We passed that little house on the way into town and I had seen children playing in the front of the house. As Christmas approached, I asked my dad about those children and what might Santa bring them. That was the moment that I realized that Christmas is for the rich. Now, we were far from rich. My dad was minister on a “mill hill” and my mom sewed all my clothes. We only got one or two cherished things for Christmas, but compared to James we were blessed.  I asked Dad if we might help Santa.  I went through my toys and selected a few good ones to give away. I collected toys from neighborhood friends.  I selected one of my dolls and got mamma to make doll clothes from scarps of cloth.  Mamma always made lots of Christmas candy and cookies and this year we packed some into a nice tin and daddy bought some food items from the grocery. On Christmas Eve morning, daddy and I proceeded to drive to James house with Santa’s sack. When we arrived, the little girl who was about my age, came out.  We told them that Santa had come early and had left some things at our house by mistake.  We gave them the toys and food. Daddy visited a while, and I played with the little girl in the yard. I still remember their dirt floors and little two room house. I remember the rusted tin roof. But most of all I remember how happy we were playing together.  I don’t know who was more delighted, me or them!  I don’t remember what I got for Christmas that year, but I remember daddy and me going to James’ house to deliver Santa’s presents. I remember what they got!  It has stayed with me forever. I will never forget that day. It was a life changing moment for me.

     We are all familiar with the story of the child born in a manger surrounded by farm animals, but very seldom do we consider the conditions and realities of that scene.  We don’t like to think about the poverty associated with the birth of baby Jesus, because Christmas is supposed to be a time of abundance.  We don’t like to consider the violence of an empire characterized by Herod killing children, because Christmas is a time of celebration. We overlook the historical poverty and oppression surrounding the birth of the child because it is uncomfortable and doesn’t fit in with what we have made Christmas to be. We ignore the reality of a poor, immigrant family forced to make a dangerous trip and that the child we celebrate chose to live a life of homelessness.

     The Christmas story is a story that we can imagine in our own time.  There is still the reality of poor immigrant families being forced to make dangerous journeys. This story is played out among the Central American migrants homeless at our border towns. It is played out with the Syrian refugees, cold and hungry in northern Greece.  It is played out in our own towns, in an alleyway or on a street corner or a tent town deep in the woods. It is played out with a neighbor working two jobs and still can't pay the bills. However, the analogy is lost on our politicians who keep assuring us that we should not worry about their fate but focus on our own comfort and safety. This is not the message of the Christmas story.

     We keep hearing that there is a war on Christmas and that we must put Christ back in Christmas. We attended a Christmas parade in a small town this year where there were many churches with parade floats. But not a single church had the manger scene. Their floats only had crosses and one float had a confederate flag on the front with  Peace on Earth on the back. What irony! The war on Christmas comes from some of the very people who yell about a war on Christmas. Every year they are upset because they don’t like the cups at Starbucks or someone saying “Happy Holidays!” I somehow don’t believe Jesus would care about the Starbucks cups or how he was greeted. As the scripture says “You strain a gnat but gulp down a camel.”  The war on Christmas comes from within a person’s heart and soul. If we really want to celebrate the true meaning of Christmas, it means forsaking much of our “celebration” and “abundance.” It means forsaking a warm home and elegant meals and tangible gifts. It means abandoning the malls and extravagant spending. It means giving up “over the top” office parties and high expectations for Christmas Day.  Instead, we must take a trip to visit the homeless and feed and clothe them, work in the soup kitchens, house a homeless youth or child, take care of the widow and her children, buy groceries for the poor, help pay medical costs for the sick. We need to visit those in prison and offer them hope and support. Instead of a huge tree ornately decorated in our living rooms, give the tree and gifts to a family suffering from a job loss.  We need to stop telling our children there’s a Santa Claus and involve them in helping us to be Santa Claus for others. And above all, we need to fight for the rights of "the least of these" all year long!  Then we will know the true meaning of Christmas.

     I never saw James again and the family eventually left that little house and it stood empty. It is gone now, but I have thought about them often through the years, especially at Christmas time. Every time we pass the field where that house stood, I can still see them playing in the yard of that little shack with the big oak tree. Talking about James still brings tears to my eyes. How could a man with whom I shared nothing but a smile and a wave, make such an impact on my life? I never knew where the family went. I never knew what fate awaited James. I did know and I still know that James was an innocent man. Above all, James taught me some of the most valuable life lessons I ever learned.  Thank you, James, for helping me understand the true meaning of Christmas.  Thank you for letting me really see poverty for the first time. Thank you for teaching me that the color of our skin does not matter. Thank you for helping me see the unfairness of our justice system. Thank you for gently showing me the inhumanity of man. Thank you for showing me that a smile and a wave can change a life. Thank you for giving me the best Christmas I ever had.

I Am Woman

   

         One of my favorite women's rights activist of all time is Sojourner Truth. Sojourner Truth, who was born into slavery, became both an abolitionist and a women's rights activist. In 1851, she extemporaneously delivered a speech called "Ain't I Woman" in Akron, Ohio at the Ohio Women's Convention. Her short, simple speech was a powerful rebuke to many anti-feminist arguments of the day. It became, and continues to serve, as a classic expression of women's rights. Truth became, and still is today, a symbol of strong women  One of my favorite parts of this courageous speech is "If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down all alone, these women together ought to be able to turn it back, and get it right side up again!"  Indeed we can!

     This week, Time Magazine named the "Silence Breakers" as person of the year. The cover of the magazine featured five women and an anonymous arm. The anonymous arm belongs to a woman in Texas, a healthcare worker and a mother, who still wishes to remain anonymous. She is in solidarity with all those women who have not yet been able to come forward. Let's not forget that the women on the cover are rich and famous, but there are so many women in small towns and lower paying jobs who can not afford to come forward. May we, our daughters, our granddaughters and our sisters continue to speak out and be united in one powerful voice and always speak for those who can not speak for themselves. 

                                                           
I Am Woman by Melba Evans 11/2017

I am WOMAN.

Never doubt that I will accomplish just what I say I will.

Never think that I am not wise or witty or shrewd.

I am fearless and will walk gently into the night unafraid.

I can do anything because I am all these things.

I am WOMAN

I am WOMAN

Do not think I cannot make a contribution to this world.

I will change the world.

Women have contributed to this world since the beginning of time.

Women have been there in wars, in famines, in life and even in death.

I am WOMAN

I am WOMAN

Never tell me what I can and cannot do.

I will take your hand when no one else will.  

I will take the hand of a child till it is no longer needed.

I am a teacher, a giver, a lover, a healer and a truth teller.

I am WOMAN

I am WOMAN

Do not tell me when I grow old that I am worthless to society.

Do not tell me that I am used up because I am divorced, widowed or alone.

I can leap in and out of life with great courage.

And in aloneness, I find my strength

I am WOMAN

I am WOMAN

Do not pity me for the wrinkles of time.

Time has created me through many wounded pieces.

I’ve survived strife and conflict and I wear these wrinkles as a badge of honor.

A true woman’s beauty is in her courage, in her heart and in her soul.

I am a survivor because

I am WOMAN

A Roller Coaster Day

     Today was a roller coaster day.  Students in my Contemporary Reading and Writing classes are writing on the topic of “discrimination.”  In plain English, to discriminate means to distinguish, single out, or make a distinction. In everyday life, we discriminate in almost every decision we make. But in the context of civil rights law, unfair discrimination refers to unequal treatment of an individual or a group based on age, disability, ethnicity, gender, marital status, national origin, race, religion and sexual orientation, to name a few. We often believe falsely that discrimination is a myth or that it occurs somewhere else, but today I was shocked to reality by my young college students.



     The students had read and discussed in class an article, “No Guts No Glory” by Molly M. Ginty. The article is about how women are stereotyped in the military and the discrimination they face.  Now keep in mind that there is no right or wrong viewpoint in this class. Students must just express their viewpoint on an intellectual level and back it up with facts and examples. In discussing this particular article, most students seemed to support women in the military while some did not. Both viewpoints are open to discussion, they just must be able to discuss their viewpoint intelligently. As a follow-up, the students are given the assignment to consider other situations in which people may be unfairly judged by stereotypes. Their essay may take any point of view but must be supported with evidence.

     Today, as I sat individually with students advising them on their essays, I became very disheartened as they shared their personal stories related to the topics of discrimination they had chosen.   So many bright young students who had personally experienced overt discrimination was heartbreaking. It made me sad for them and it made me sad for our city because they spoke of discrimination in our own town, not in some faraway place. All I could do was tell them how very sorry I was that they had experienced discrimination so overtly and personally. They could clearly see my emotional reaction. Most sessions ended in big hugs. I had not expected this.

     Several young Muslim women especially touched me as they shared some very personal experiences. They told me of jobs lost and services denied. One young woman shared that she had applied for a job and was offered the job.  However, when given the uniform, she asked to be allowed to wear pants or tights under the uniform because her beliefs do not allow her to wear short skirts. She was given the Ok to wear the hijab, but not the pants under the uniform. She lost the job. Another student told me how she and her husband had booked a room in a hotel online, a national chain. When they arrived, they were turned away because the manager said they looked like terrorists. The young couple had to find another room for the night. Still another student was offered a handshake by a supervisor and she politely responded “Thank you for your hand in friendship, but I cannot shake hands with a male due to my beliefs. “She did not get the job and the supervisor actually told her that her beliefs were “ridiculous.” Still another student told me that when interviewing for a job in a medical office, she was told she could not wear her hijab because it would scare their patients. Can they file suits of discrimination against these places? Probably. Can they call corporate offices? Of course, they can. But they are young and afraid. They are trying to blend in and be one of “us.” They aren’t looking for attention or to be on the news and face more hate and discrimination, so they let it go. My heart aches for them.  We have a lot of “heart” work to do.  We have a lot of barriers to break and a lot of educating to be done.

     On a high note, at the end of the day, I met with a young Afro American male who was writing about discrimination against women.  It is very rare to have a male student writing about women’s issues and I was thrilled. I read just the other day, that women will never win the fight for equality and against sexual harassment unless men support us in the fight by becoming more vocal.  We talked for a while and the student’s insight into discrimination against women was to be applauded. He knew more than many women know about discrimination against women and why it occurs. I told him he had made my day, given me hope and that as a female I appreciated his selection of this topic. I look forward to reading his final essay. As I said, it was a roller coaster day!  

A Knee for Justice

It deeply saddens me that a flag and a song have more meaning than the guaranteed constitutional rights of freedom, equality and justice.  People are offended by kneeling during the anthem but not offended by racism and modern day lynchings. It saddens me that people are more upset about broken windows than about an unarmed man being assassinated by cops or a young child playing in a neighborhood park being shot by police. Slavery, lynchings, Jim Crow, segregation, poverty, education inequality, police state justice- no problem-just respect the flag. It is time for those who believe in justice to take a knee. Kneel in prayer for those murdered and oppressed by racism.  Kneel to say that injustice will not be tolerated in this great nation.  Kneel in solidarity as a nation that stands for justice and equality for all people.  Let us not forget that in the 1930s Nazi Germany began arresting thousands of people who refused to salute the Nazi flag and sent them to concentration camps. Not saluting the flag did not mean those brave people did not love their country nor does it mean that the Americans who are bravely refusing today don't love their country.  They are taking a stand on the platform they have to make this country a better place. They are kneeling for freedom, justice and equality. "Our lives end the day we become silent about things that matter." (MLK)

Monday Morning

  You know what worries me? It's not that a group of racist idiots lit some tiki torches and decided to rally. 

What worries me is what happens on Monday morning.
I worry that on Monday they'll go back to their job in human resources and decide who gets hired and who gets fired.
They'll put their uniform back on and profess to 'serve and protect.'
They'll sit on a jury and decide the fate of a young person of color.
They'll teach in a kindergarten class or work in a preschool program. 
They'll teach a US History class.
They'll sit across from a couple, who came to this country, worked hard and saved, and have the power to approve or deny them a loan to purchase their first home.
They'll decide an insurance claim.
They will work in a nursing home or healthcare facility.
They'll give an estimate to repair the brakes on a mother's only mode of transportation to get to work each day.
They will teach a Sunday School class next Sunday. 

I don't stay up lamenting the fact that racists feel emboldened to parade in the street. I stay up because racists have, do, and will apply their racist beliefs in their daily lives, and by extension mine, and they don't do it carrying a banner to distinguish themselves. They walk among us everyday. It isn't the theatrical that worries me. It's the everyday practical. 

Whose Schools? Our Schools!

    

On July 22, 2017, I had the privilege of speaking at the Charlotte March for Education representing NOW Charlotte. The March for Public Education was held simultaneously in cities across our nation including Washington, DC. The mission statement for the march was that "our public schools will be safe, inclusive spaces for learning and critical thinking, where all children discover their passion(s) and role(s) as citizens. As members of March for Public Education, we aim to advance policy and recursively address issues of: equity, inclusion, accountability, a well-funded institution, and the right to organize." The Charlotte March for Education was held at Marshall Park in uptown Charlotte. There was a small but very enthusiastic group of supporters on a very hot Summer day.  This is an excerpt from that speech:

    Public Education is very dear to my heart. My mother was a public-school educator and I am a proud product of public education. I spent my life in public education and now teach at Central Piedmont Community College. I believe in the power of public education to lift all students out of poverty and adversity and into the realm of opportunity. I have had the privilege of being part of the lives of many public-school students who have dreamed dreams and achieved those dreams.

     As a public-school educator during the first few years of desegregation, I saw firsthand the ravaging effects of poverty and discrimination. I see those same ravaging effects of poverty and discrimination still in our schools today. I see school systems being desegregated. I see the continuing inequity of education in high poverty neighborhoods. But we all know that with the proper funding, support and the belief that all students can achieve and succeed no matter what the circumstances of their birth are, we can raise up all our students- including our most vulnerable- our children in poverty, our homeless and our English language learners.  Education is not a luxury for the wealthy, it is a human right and human rights are not optional!

     Today we stand in a very dangerous place. Our public schools are under attack, not by a foreign force, but by our own President and Secretary of Education. The Trump administration’s policies have become synonymous with educational disparity, misguided focus and inhumane cuts to programs and services. Trump’s proposals to cut public education are a direct threat to the very heart of our democracy. The DeVos plan will cause cuts in vital areas of education- with Special Education, Bilingual Education, medically and emotionally fragile students and our socio-economically disadvantaged students taking the hardest hits. Under the Trump/DeVos education plan, class size reduction is eliminated, professional development is ended and thousands of educators will lose their jobs. Title 1 funds for our high poverty schools will decrease because that money can now be used for other things before even being given to the schools that it is designated for. Twenty-two programs are to be eliminated including after school programs that serve 1.6 million children, most of whom are poor.  Arts programs, foreign language programs, programs for gifted students, mental health services, physical education, advanced placement courses, science and engineering instruction and even the Special Olympics are on the chopping block. Our colleges and universities will suffer the same types of devastating cuts with the elimination of over $700 million in Perkins loans for disadvantaged students and work study programs being cut.  Programs that provide child care for high poverty parents attending college and adult literacy programs are cut. I could go on all day! These cuts not only harm our children, but our families and our single mothers who are trying to improve their lives, making it almost impossible for them to get an education. Due to the race/gender wage gap, women have a more difficult time repaying student loans once they complete college; therefore further cuts to grants and loans are devastating. 75% of educators are women so the loss of thousands of jobs will again hurt working mothers.  And who will benefit? Religious, Private and Charter Schools! Public dollars, OUR dollars unconstitutionally supporting religious and privately-run schools, with little or no accountability.
  

     When I look at our own city with 4,400 students identified as homeless, we are looking at a demographic that Trump and DeVos have only seen from the backseat of their limousines! We are looking at a population that they simply do not care about. We have a President that travels with a moral compass that only points to himself! We will never find common ground with an administration that is cruel and callous to our children. Public school children are not products that Trump and his cronies can make money off of!

     We must stand together to fight this injustice to our public schools across our country and in our state by letting our voices and our votes be heard. We must tell our friends and foes in Raleigh and on Capitol Hill to fully fund public education and that public money must go to public schools. We must demand the schools that our children need to be successful in the 21^st century! We must resist and we must persist- starting today- starting right now! We will not give in and we will not give up! We know the power of education to change lives, neighborhoods and nations. In the words of Nelson Mandela, “Education is the most powerful weapon which we can use to change the world.” When we are here on a hot Summer day in the middle of July defending our public schools, we are defending our vision for a better world! Thank you for being here today!

Breaking The Cycle: Women Incarcerated

     

Marissa Alexander receiving the Woman of Courage award from NOW President Terry O'Neil.

     I recently had the opportunity to attend the 2017 National Organization for Women Conference in Orlando, Florida. Although there were many outstanding speakers, I met two women who really touched my heart; perhaps because their message was especially personal for me as I reflected on students I had taught during my teaching career. Two Afro-American female students stood out in my mind. While teaching at the community college, I often taught students who were on court probation and attending class wearing ankle bracelets.  I remember one female student who was particularly distraught by her current situation. Kanesha was a very bright young woman about 20 years old.   She had gotten caught up in a drug deal orchestrated by a young man she was in a relationship with.  The transaction had ended in a murder. She possessed no drugs and was waiting in the car while he went inside, not knowing what was transpiring.  Kanesha was anticipating a long prison sentence. She could not talk without crying. I hugged her every day and tried to encourage her but knew she was up against a stone wall legal system that had enveloped her.  Kanesha had extremely low self-esteem and had been sexually assaulted as a child. My heart ached because I knew she had so much potential.   Another student, Latisha, I met in an elementary gifted classroom. Latisha was a very bright and eager to learn third grader. She came from a high poverty crime ridden neighborhood.  In an effort to help keep her off the summer streets, I secured scholarships for her and a few other students to attend summer programs at various facilities including a science camp at a private school and James K Polk History Camp. The students also received tennis and golf lessons over the course of the summer. The scholarships were secured but at the last minute, CMS backed out on providing transportation for these students.  Not wanting them to miss these opportunities, I spent my summer transporting Latisha and the other students to camps in my van. Latisha was the first one picked up and the last one dropped off every day so I got to know Latisha well.  Latisha lived in fear and confided to me that she slept with a baseball bat for fear of being molested. I followed Latisha into middle school, but upon going to her house one day, I found they had moved and I lost contact with her. I have often thought about these two students and wondered where their lives have taken them. My experience in Orlando, brought them both to mind again.  

     At the NOW Conference in Orlando, I first met Marissa Alexander, an Afro-American female,  who received our Woman of Courage award. I had a chance to sit down and talk with Marissa after the award was presented.  Marissa was an MBA graduate, fulfilling her career in IT Management when she was arrested and charged with aggravated assault.  Marissa ‘s estranged husband had appeared unexpectedly, gone into a rage and threatened to kill her.  He had been arrested three times previously for domestic assault. Unable to get out of the house, Marissa fired a warning shot high into the drywall.  Marissa was charged with aggravated assault and sentenced to 20 years in prison under Florida’s minimum mandatory sentencing law.  Her story drew national attention because the Stand Your Ground Law, which was allowed in the George Zimmerman case, could not be used in her case because the Stand Your Ground law does not allow warning shots.  Finally, after 3 years in prison, her case was overturned as a result of faulty jury instructions. She accepted the original plea agreement of three years and strict probation wearing an ankle bracelet. She has now become a domestic violence advocate and speaks out against ineffective sentencing policies.

     Secondly, I attended a breakout session; Casualties of the War on Drugs: The Mass Incarceration of Women in America. The presentation included three female experts from the ACLU and a young Afro-American woman who had been incarcerated. She had been arrested three times for drug possession. Each time she had asked for help for her addiction. Each time she was placed on a waiting list. She too had been sexually assaulted and asked for mental health support and each time she was put on a waiting list. She shared some of the atrocities of incarceration for women. Women had difficulty getting access to feminine hygiene products that women needed and no access to an OB/GYN. They often traded and bartered or created their own female hygiene products using whatever means they could. Women rarely went to the doctor for fear of sexual abuse. Women were often stripped naked and put in solitary confinement for punishment. Incarcerated women were viewed in negative terms rather than human beings with specific needs seeking help. The third time she was incarcerated, she was pregnant.  She delivered her baby with both arms and legs shackled to the table. She was not allowed to hold or even see her baby.  Her baby was given immediately to a family member. Perhaps if she had received the help she needed the first time, she may not have been there the third time. 

     In recent years, the number of women in America’s jails and prisons has skyrocketed.  According to the Bureau of Justice (DOJ), at the end of 2015, there were over 1.25 million women in US Adult Correctional Facilities. That is a 700% increase. The incarceration rate of women since 1980 has far exceeded the rate of growth of incarcerated men. Nearly 60% of incarcerated women are in federal prison for nonviolent drug offenses.  Many times women, like Marissa Alexander, are swept up in minimum sentencing laws and “conspiracy” laws.  Often, the women played very nominal roles in drug crimes and were simply present when men they were in relationships with were the key players in the drug activity like my friend Kanesha.  Furthermore, women of color are no more likely than white women to use or sell drugs but are far more likely to be arrested and incarcerated on drug offenses. The great majority of incarcerated women have experienced domestic and sexual violence and exhibit symptoms of mental health disorders, yet facilities often don’t provide care as stated by the woman I met in Orlando. Placing a woman naked in solitary confinement only exacerbates the trauma.  Finally, upon release, women with felony charges may be banned from receiving financial assistance and food stamps while at the same time they struggle to get into the workforce. They basically have no opportunities to become productive members of society.

         Meeting these two young women was a real eye opener. Our criminal justice system needs dramatic reform. Yet, when there are discussions of reform, rarely do we talk about the specific needs of incarcerated women. We need to address the unique and complex needs of adult women involved in the criminal justice system. We must better understand the experiences of incarcerated women and their families and we must advocate for safe, sensible policies that recognize these distinct needs. We must advocate for policies that eliminate shackling during labor; provide quality access to OB/GYN care; and restrict the roles of male staff in female prisons to limit abuse. Effective treatment of women must address the mental health effects of battering and sexual violence in their past. There should be no waiting list for drug rehabilitation or mental health services. We must address the reasons for the unprecedented rise in the number of women who are entering our jails and prisons. The number of young girls in the juvenile justice system is on the rise. One in three teenaged girls in the US report having been a victim of sexual violence. With young women of color and LGBTQ, the rate is even higher. Trauma related services are not available in our schools and due to zero tolerance policies, these girls are often pushed out of school when they act out in a cry for help.  Young victims of sex trafficking are often viewed as perpetrators and arrested. We must address the needs of these young girls and stop the criminalization of trauma. Reform must start in our schools as well as in our juvenile court system. Reforming practices towards female offenders can bring needed healing and restoration to this very vulnerable population. 

Source of Data:

United States Department of Justice, Bureau of Justice Statistics (2016, December)

Panel Discussion: Casualties of the War on Drugs: The Mass Incarceration of Women in America.