VCC Magazine Fall 2019

Memories of a Southern Childhood By Judith Bledsoe Bailey As I welcome current discussions on race and reconciliation, I realize that I have been so shaped by segregation that it is difficult to overcome ingrained assumptions. Because of segregation I missed out on understanding and relationships with people of color during my most formative years. Growing up I did not learn the historical facts about slavery except that it was wrong and it was “over.” I grew up in a small town in west Tennessee, the county seat of Dyer County,

“I Am 400” By Nick Mai

Last week, I had the pleasure of interviewing artists JeromeW. Jones (father) and Jeromyah Jones (son). Both were extremely kind, humble, and incredibly passionate about their work. Jeromyah prayed over our meal, and as we began to eat our pastries, we talked about his calling to be a “visual historian.”

He and his father recently created a banner entitled, “ I Am 400 .” This year marks the 400Year milestone of the African journey in America. “ I Am 400 ” is a collection of original paintings created by the father and son artists, highlighting the character, culture, and contributions of African Americans during this historic period. Their larger goal for their artwork is to go national with it to expose the world to these people. This banner is over 40 years of work featuring manyVirginians. Most of the artwork was done with acrylic and in the style of a portrait, however one of the pieces showcases pen and ink work as well. The artists put a large emphasis on African Americans in Virginia, many from the Richmond area. Portrait subjects included

where there was segregated housing, schools, and churches. In Woolworth’s department store there were two water fountains side- by-side: “white” and “colored.” I remember standing before those fountains as a child confused about which one to use until my Auntie uncomfortably indicated the one marked “white.” There were separate waiting rooms in the Greyhound bus station, separate restrooms, separate restaurants, separate seating in the movie theater. Black people had to sit in the balcony and use a different entrance to get there. My parents were not overtly racist but they were also products of segregation. My mother was proud of the fact that when she was child her father did not attend the public execution of a black man who was burned to death. They were kind, but they also did not understand why I was sympathetic to the civil rights movement in the 1960s and later. Like many people, they lived their separate lives on their side of town, not intentionally harming anyone. The first time I attended school with an African American student was in seminary in NewYork City in 1964. Since then graduate school classes at The College of William and Mary offered opportunities to read about, interact with, and learn to appreciate the contributions of African Americans. Slowly, through the books I have read, and the conversations with friends, I am closer to understanding and feeling the outrage of racist treatment. At the same time, I struggle to recognize and own “white privilege” even as I intellectually understand it. As I reflect on my journey several points of awareness stand out. The class on Ethnic Families focused on African American culture. At the first meeting we had to identify our ethnic background – something I had not thought about because I was a white woman. In a small group I learned about “the dozens.” We read and discussed books by Zora Neale Hurston and Toni Morrison. Watching and discussing “Boys in the Hood” was painfully sad and informative. In Journal of a Residence on a Georgian Plantation, 1838-1839 , Fanny Kemble, married to slave owner Pierce Butler, made me aware of the severe health problems of enslaved women forced into multiple childbirths. In Betsy Brown by Ntozake Shange, her grandmother had no mirrors so Betsy would not realize she was “colored.” In a class on AfricanAmerican history and culture I discovered and wrote about black women preachers in the 19th century and have shared that information repeatedly to those who like myself, just didn’t know. More recently in the book on the great migration, The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson, I realized the difficulty of travel and the necessity of the Green Book for African American travelers during segregation. Also, Wilkerson and Michelle Obama ( Becoming ) reveal the struggle for safe neighborhoods and good schools. Forced separation of people from each other robs all of us of the diversity in thought, culture and religion that can mutually enrich our lives. It is sad and unacceptable that the barriers have been there for so long. Thankfully some progress is being made as we talk to each other and share our stories. Judith Bledsoe Bailey, Ph.D—retired campus minister and author of Strength for the Journey: Feminist Theology and BaptistWomen Pastors (2015).

There’s a backstory to the black glory. Jerome Jones “ ”

Dr. Dorothy Height, a Richmond native and civil rights leader who was president of the National Council of Negro Women for 40 years and worked closely with The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. The artists wanted to showcase the many struggles and successes of African Americans, including inventors, doctors, lawyers, and more.

They wanted to showcase many African Americans who may not be well known to the public but should be. The banner is supposed to help break stigmas of African Americans and is a way for them to represent themselves. Their goal for this artwork is for people to learn about each person pictured in the banner. As Jerome said, “There’s a backstory to the black glory”. The original goal was to have each or the portraits hung up together. After having difficulty getting a place to showcase that many paintings at once, they decided to create the banner to incorporate all the artwork. The main idea for choosing the banner as the medium is because you can put a banner up anywhere. It is easily transported and put on display.When looking at the banner, you’ll notice it is horizontal. The reason for it being horizontal instead of vertical is because the artists wanted it to represent a “bridge” of connecting African culture and heritage to African American culture.  Nick Mai is a senior at Virginia Commonwealth University where he is pursuing a Bachelor of Arts in Public Relations. He is currently working as an intern for Virginia Capitol Connections. Nick was born and raised in Northern Virginia.

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B ENNETT F UNERAL H OME

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V irginia C apitol C onnections , F all 2019

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