Headline: ST.
LOUISANS PUT BLACK HERITAGE IN FOCUS : EARLY'S ANTHOLOGY OFFERS A WIDE RANGE
OF WRITERS' VIEWPOINTS ON OUR TOWN
Reporter: By Robert Joiner\Of The Post-Dispatch
Publication: ST.
LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
Last Printed: Sun., Dec. 6, 1998
Section: EVERYDAY MAGAZINE, Page: D1, Edition: FIVE STAR LIFT
In a bittersweet
essay about growing up in St. Louis, writer Debra Dickerson touched some raw
nerves. An African-American lawyer who now lives in Washington, Dickerson was
one of many who wrote about "Going Home" in the Nov. 30 edition of
U.S. News and World Report, for which she works.
Her
remarks were the subject of a Nov. 27 column by Bill McClellan, and her essay
was reprinted last Sunday on the Post-Dispatch's Commentary page. Needless to
say, St. Louisans are talking about Debra Dickerson, about her ignorance of
certain area landmarks and her harsh assessment that the city itself holds little
promise for black people, though she concedes some racial progress has been
made in the 1990s.
Dickerson's ambivalence
about this city may well broaden the appeal of a timely second opinion -- "Ain't
But a Place, " an anthology offering a wide range of black viewpoints about
St. Louis.
The
anthology's editor, Gerald Early, has pulled together material that reads like
missing chapters in the city's history. His selections offer both a main street
and a back street tour during which readers discover or rediscover lesser-known
people, sites, family traditions and events that helped shape St. Louis.
The
voices we hear along the way include poets Eugene Redmond, Quincy Troupe Jr.
and Jabari Asim, activists Percy Green and Dick Gregory, historians Nathan B.
Young and Herman Dreer, playwright Ntozake Shange, fiction writers Maya Angelou
and Henry Dumas, journalists Lorraine Kee and Gregory Freeman, and many
athletes, including Bob Gibson and Jackie Joyner-Kersee.
Some of the contributors,
such as W.E.B. DuBois and Marcus Garvey, never lived here, though they wrote
powerful essays about life in the region. Both commented on the race riot in
1917 in East St. Louis.
Of that incident, DuBois says that white participants "added
a foul and revolting page to the history of all massacres of the world."
Garvey
was surprisingly more restrained, saying blacks were killed simply because they
were black people "seeking an industrial chance in a country (in which)
they have laboured for three hundred years to make great."
For better or worse, the anthology's contributors who did live here retain a strong attachment to this place called St. Louis (or East St. Louis) and that place's link to black history and the city's general history. Hence, the anthology's title, which are the words of Colleen McElroy, a poet and former St. Louisan.
Early's selections won't satisfy everyone's taste. Like the Dickerson essay, many of the pieces raise disturbing questions and defy conventional perceptions of how blacks view this city and their place in it.
Listen to memoirist
Eddy L. Harris recall an incident at a St. Louis party where he and a brother
are the only blacks. Harris writes that he "lost the other half of my mind"
upon hearing the party host, a liberal, mention how much progress blacks had
made, using one wealthy black man, Bill Cosby, as proof.
Harris
tells the host: "Climb into my head .o.o. Climb in and see what it's like
to be black. See what it's like to always wonder if what happens to you is happening
because of your color. See what it's like to constantly be under suspicion,
to always be seen as criminal or deficient. Can you possible know what that
feels like? And if a man as fortunate as I can feel that way, can you imagine
how the less fortunate must feel?"
Early himself
weighs in with a jarring incident, the time a Frontenac police officer stopped
and frisked him after getting a report that someone who looked like Early was
"lurking" in Frontenac's Le Chateau Village.
An
otherwise mild-mannered Early writes: "There I was, I immediately thought,
about to be humiliated before the whites coming in and out of the building .o.o.
being reminded that I was a nigger, that I had no business being where I was,
that I was a 'threat' to the good white folk of Frontenac."
Readers can profit from such unpleasant pieces -- the "straight, no chaser" pieces -- because they expose this community's flaws, point to areas that need work and give us a deeper understanding of this city and ourselves.
Others writers
had warm memories of St. Louis.
In
one humorous essay, KMOV-TV anchor Julius Hunter explains why he loves this
city.
In
another, former NAACP leader Roy Wilkins tell of his family's experience on
arriving from Mississippi. The family was stranded at Union Station and Wilkins'
father was about to give up on getting directions to a friend's house on Papin
Street when an elderly white man walked up. He led the family to a trolley and
ordered the conductor to give the family members transfers to Jefferson Avenue
and show them the way to Papin. Then the man "tipped his hat .o.o. and
went on his way."
Aboard
the trolley, Wilkins recalled seeing blacks sitting wherever they pleased and
seeing white people sitting in the back seat.
"The
strange sight made them laugh out loud, " Wilkins said of his parents.
"Mississippi was obviously a long way behind them. Things were definitely
beginning to look up."
Many of the writers do not take as their frame of reference the larger white world. Their excerpts center instead on warm memories of family life. As singer Chuck Berry notes in the piece excerpted from his autobiography: "We made up for whatever we lacked with the wealth of a good family relation and love that we all shared when not fighting."
Early's anthology
shatters the myth that St. Louis isn't a place where black writers bloom. This
city's black artistic expression usually is measured in its musical heritage
-- gospel, blues, jazz and opera.
Early
points to the many signs that the city and region can take credit for being
"an important location for African-American letters and culture."
As proof, he mentions the ever-growing influence of Eugene Redmond's writers
workshop in East St. Louis and to the works of many noted local writers included
in the anthology.
He
also notes other forces that indirectly have shaped the city's contributions
to black letters and culture. These include the city's strong black educational
heritage -- St. Louis was the site of the first black high school west of the
Mississippi -- and the rise of such powerful cultural institutions as the Urban
League's Vaughn Cultural Center.
Early chose the
typical approach in arranging his material, dividing it among autobiographies
and memoirs, essays and articles, and fiction and poetry. A more useful approach
might have been to divide the material according to themes so that readers could
conveniently look for topics that grabbed their attention. Even so, Early helps
readers in this process by offering an introduction to each writer's work and
explaining why he included it.
Never
before has anyone assembled so many African-Americans of diverse backgrounds
and experiences in one place to share their views about this city. Excerpts
from the works of even a handful of the contributors make this book well worth
the price.
**** 'Ain't But
a Place: An Anthology of African American Writings about St. Louis'
Edited by
Gerald Early
Published
by Missouri Historical Society Press; 515 pages; $39.95 cloth, $24.95 paper
Gregory Freeman writings - home page
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