Destination D.C.

So I headed to DC – yea I checked out Wes (an old friend I hadn’t seen in nearly 20 years), to finally tour our National Museum of African American History and Culture.  Decked out in all black, negro league hat, Sean john underwear, black fist pin (and a few others); I went full [MAFOOMBAY 101] for this experience.  Even had my inspirational playlist to accompany me.

The experience was surreal.

The beginning starts at the bottom floor which showcases the arrival of Africans to America then proceeds through slavery.  You can feel a connection and understanding of what these souls endured.  Try hauling 100 lbs. of cotton on your back and knowing that the next day, it has to be 101.  And the shivers down their spines during the end of shift weigh in hoping you met your quota and hoping the weigh-man doesn’t lie.  And hoping for peace.  I can only imagine physically but mentally and emotionally, there’s no modern equivalence…

Then next, the Civil Rights Exhibit.  This got to me – particularly Rosa Parks’ dress.  I felt like Malcolm X when he couldn’t bear to look at The Honorable Elijah Muhammed.  There was too much light, too much good and too much energy emanating from that space.  Mixed with time, knowing that Ms. Rosa Parks is still present in our Sasha, the feeling was real.  Just everything, an FOI hat, a bucket Dr. King soaked his feet in, Thurgood Marshall’s glasses; all too real…

But this leads you to the next few floors above where you can witness the accomplishments of Black Achievement and Black Excellence from art, poetry, sports and music.  Designed to lead you through an emotional journey birthed with pride and accomplishment. Bravo!

BUT, I stayed in DC for (2) days so of course I had to stroll around town.  The DRMLKJR statue was a destination as well as the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial; I have an uncle enshrined there.  I also wanted to visit the exact spot where Dr. King stood while reciting his ‘I Have a Dream Speech,’ at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial, the memorial itself wasn’t an objective, I never really cared for Lincoln to be honest.  So, on the way, it hit me.  Hit me hard.

As much as racism is a colossal problem in America, I realized the bigger or biggest obstacle is patriarchy.  Washington, Lincoln, Jefferson, Carnegie.  As I walked around viewing the city’s vast architecture structures I’d read the placards, “designed by [male]”, “inspired by [male],” ‘sculptured by [male].”  And not just DC, Mount Rushmore.  Eleanor Roosevelt, I thought of, could have easily been a president.  She was Hilary, before Hilary, mixed with the idealism of Michelle.  But, she was a woman and that thought didn’t exist.

As I feel about racism, women must feel about patriarchy.  Religiously (just a thought I had), man is in God’s image with the woman by his side – are women secretly like, “f that!”. For me, I can imagine Adam being Black and I’m feeling good but the patriarchy design of religion must be skeptical for women. Continued with Islamic women wearing hijabs so as to not ‘tempt’ man’s urges as opposed to, “Yo, control yourself!”  And how many women popes have there been?  And why wasn’t Mary Magdalene’s Gospel included in the Bible?  If I’m thinking these things, women must be as well.

And the Black woman suffers two negatives…. Like math, I want to believe that that’s a positive.  And like science, it is and it’s exact.

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise I rise I rise

 – Maya Angelou

Next stop – The Legacy Museum/The National Memorial for Peace and Justice.