Unfinished

I get frustrated with my students from time to time. Not because they don't have the highest energy level, color cooridanted projects, or because they can complain. No. I get frustrated when it seems like the realm of their abilities lies only in what we covered in class yesterday. But maybe I've just forgotten what its like to be in highschool.

I do remember having trouble with assignments from time to time. But the hardest assignment ever handed to me wasn't in highschool or even at Harding. It was in my African American Experience since 1865 class at USC. Hist649.

I signed up for the class on the advise of my advisor. Apparently that was a better choice than some graduate level economics class for my program. The first day of class was a little overwhelming. The demographics of the class were to be expected. Dr. Littlefield was our African American professor. And she knew her stuff. Also to make class a little more daunting was ------ (I can't remember his name) a history doctoral student. ----- later became the president of the graduate student council.

One of the books for the course was "Trouble in Mind" by Leon F. Litwack. I surmized from the cover it was about sharecroppers and maybe some thoughts about Booker T. and Ida B. Just another history book I'd add to my shelf. But then I had to read it.

Dr. Littlefield assigned bits and pieces to be read one day at the end of class. The first chapter was called Baptisms. I don't remember any of the other chapters and mostly because I never finished the reading.

Trouble in Mind was different from any other history book I'd read. It wasn't an overview. It didn't state facts and causes. It wasn't some historical fiction trash that so many history teacher try to use. It was interview, after interview. People telling a story and reliving the facts. It was personal.

The stories were disturbing to say the least. People talking about "place" in society, and how society kept them in a state of fear to stay in that "place." And so went the stories; injustice after injustice. A son killed for arguing against an unfair tobacco price here, mobs hanging inocent victims there. Its kind of a blur now. I couldn't believe it. It was unbelievable. Some of the stories.

Stories about white people traveling to a lynching like it was a carnival, bringing their families; picnic blanket and all. One Atlanta man was burned alive and his body parts taken as souvenirs later to be sold and displayed in storefronts. In one horrific account a African Americans family is hung with him. I don't remember the details or the supposed crime. What I do remember is the depiction of a pregnant woman being strung up on a tree, her stomach sliced open and .

Yeah. I couldn't believe what had happened. I never finished the reading assingment, and most of the class didn't either. Sometimes we try and sweep the not-so-pretty part of history under the rug. Avoid it; it'll go away. But those are the most important parts to learn from.

Paul " " Murphy