This was my second year attending the Memphis Independent Film Festival and the only thing I have to say is "Thumbs Up." I cannot begin to explain the The Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia. The only thing that comes to mind is Ghetto Ass White People. There isn't a drug that they don't do and they have sex with just about anybody. They are the children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren of D Ray and Bertie Mae White. Jesco, Maime, Poney, Sue Bob, and Bo are the children of D Ray and Bertie Mae. Bertie Mae also raised children who were left my their parents or their parents died.
The White family gained notoriety after the documentary the Dancing Outlaw was released. The documentary focused on Jesco who learned the art of mountain dancing from his daddy D Ray. Throughout the documentary I never saw another one of the family members moutain dancing. Therefore, I assume no one else knew how to do the jig. The rest of the family is basically famous for being bad. Jesco supposedly has a huge hole in one side of brain from huffing gasoline. There was not one White who lived in Virigina who did not do drugs, except for Bertie Mae. The others smoked weed, sniffed oxycotin, drank alcohol, popped pills and did whatever else they could get their hands on. My fault, Kirk, Bo's daughter, stated that she never did angel dust. Sue Bob's son, Brandon, got extremely high one night and tried to kill his Aunt Mamie's boyfriend, set a car on fire, and had a shoot out with the police. When he was interviewed in jail he commented on how the judge liked him and would probably give him an alternative sentencing, such as house arrest. Brandon was eventually sentenced to 50 years in prison. Mamie's daughter Mousie was being released from jail during the documentary and trying to hook back up with her husband Charles, who previously slept with her cousin Kirk.
I know what you are thinking. I can tell you everything about this documentary and it still won't be the same as watching it on the screen. While watching this film, I was constantly thinking how it relates to Memphis. Well, I know some moms and dads who smoke weed with their kids. I know at least two bank robbers. I know plenty of baby momas and baby daddys. I have known people who pop x-pills and viagra. I know people who love to fight just to fight. Basically, I have known and still know some "Whites" in Memphis, Tennessee. If the Whites were to move to Memphis, they would be a perfect fit. If someone had told me about the Whites before I saw the movie, I would swear up and down they were black. Okay, I have one more thing to tell you about this film. During one part of the film, Derrick, Bo's son, asked if you wanted to hear the Boone County mating call. He then holds up a prescription pill bottle and starts to shake it. That was the funniest thing I have ever seen.
All and all this film was hillarious, yet sad at the same time. The Whites make you laugh, but you wonder what is really going on with them. I began to think maybe they all were bipolar and no one had diagnosed them. There has to be something missing. However, I cannot lie and say that I did not enjoy each and every minute that I had with the Whites.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
My Re-Visit to Elmwood Cemetary
A few weeks back, we went as a class to experience the historical Elmwood Cemetery. Our visit was almost life changing for me. Before our visit, I never viewed a cemetery as a place anyone should EVER go unless they are there to celebrate the life of a loved one. After experiencing the cemetery as a class, I had a complete change of heart about cemeteries, and over the break, I found myself back at the last place that I ever expected myself to be in my spare time. During our fall break, a few friends of mine came back into town from school. We were looking for a quiet place outdoors to have bible study, and I suggested that we go to Elmwood Cemetery. The experience was even better than the first time when we went as a class. We got the opportunity to do the audio tour, which is extremely informative and interesting. It tells you about the construction of the tombstones and gives background information on the people who are buried there. Also, we bought a book in the gift shop that shows pictures of the tombstones in their original condition. Additionally, one of the workers informed us of a website that we could go to to track our ancestors and find out where they were buried. Since then, we have went on the web, and one of my friends found her Irish great-great-great-great grandfather's grave right here in Memphis! It was so exciting to research our history together, and I believe that it brought us closer in the process. I encourage the rest of our honors students to track their ancestry. There are many sites on the web that are dedicated to helping people find information on their family members. You never know, your great-great-great-great grandfather could have been a famous war hero and you never knew it!
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
A Date With The Doctor
Last night was quite interesting, to say the least. I enjoyed the company of Dr. Poussaint, a leading black pychiatrist. I didn't think the speech would be all too entertaing but once again I was proven wrong. Dr. Poussaint touched on issues of race, child abuse, social equality and lack there of. Poussaint didn't hesistate to mention the stats. He informed the audience that 80% of prison inmates are high school dropouts, meaning 6 out of 10 high school dropouts are are prison inmates; 40-45% of all prison inmates are black, 1/3 of homeless people are black men; chidren from upperclass parents will hear 20,000,000 words by age 3, and chilren from lowerclass parents will only hear 1,000,000 by age 3.
Poussaint entertained the crowd when describing his own life stories as a child. Once, as a school boy, he felt embarrased by all the other kids because he knew he couldn't speak as well as they did. So, he hid. His teacher pulled him out of hiding and made him talk and once he did she told him he had a speech impedement. She said that he needed a speech pathologist. He fired back saying, "Well, let's go get all the kids from the block 'cause they talk just like me." Watching the time , Poussaint tried not to be long with his talking. That brought out a story of when he and his father would go to church. When the preacher put his watch on the podium, Poussaint asked his father, "What does that mean?" His father would reply, "Not a damn thang." Poussaint had the crowd burst into laughs.
Listening to Dr. Poussaint and all his words of wisdom made me really wish my parents had of been there. They needed to hear it more that I did, especially about Poussaint's parenting infromation. My folks go by the old saying, "Spare the rod, ruin the child." Poussaint had much to say about parenting. Wise men say, "It takes a village to raise a child." Poussaint says, "No it don't! It takes a fortune."
Poussaint entertained the crowd when describing his own life stories as a child. Once, as a school boy, he felt embarrased by all the other kids because he knew he couldn't speak as well as they did. So, he hid. His teacher pulled him out of hiding and made him talk and once he did she told him he had a speech impedement. She said that he needed a speech pathologist. He fired back saying, "Well, let's go get all the kids from the block 'cause they talk just like me." Watching the time , Poussaint tried not to be long with his talking. That brought out a story of when he and his father would go to church. When the preacher put his watch on the podium, Poussaint asked his father, "What does that mean?" His father would reply, "Not a damn thang." Poussaint had the crowd burst into laughs.
Listening to Dr. Poussaint and all his words of wisdom made me really wish my parents had of been there. They needed to hear it more that I did, especially about Poussaint's parenting infromation. My folks go by the old saying, "Spare the rod, ruin the child." Poussaint had much to say about parenting. Wise men say, "It takes a village to raise a child." Poussaint says, "No it don't! It takes a fortune."
I See Dead People!!!
It happen on a hollows eve; the place was Elmwood cemetary. All the little kids were being tucked in bed with faith that God would answer the prayers they said. As the sun was setting a classroom was beginning. The students lurked through the terrors of the night, hoping to find creatures of a fright.......
Ok, that's not what really happened. But it would of been really cool if it did. It was actually a Tuesday afternoon and it was quite sunny. Me and my Honors Inquiry class were given a tour of Elmwood Cemetary by Mrs. Bodayla. Sounds frightening, doesn't it? In all honesty, it was quite humorous. We were shone really cool headstones; one of which that made the person seem quite insignificant. Her headstone read,"Dorothy Ann Whitaker: Born, Who Knows? Died,Who Cares?"
Mrs. Bodayla, whose toured many cemetaries around the world, had filled the class in on all things graveyard. She told us about how the early cemetaries were run by people of horticulture and how some cemetaries are on a grid pattern but most are usually not. The class also learned about the symbols on a headstone. Headstones with a lamb symbolizes innocence; meaning it's of a child's. Headstones that feature a tree that's chopped symbolizes a life that's been cut short. It isn't neccessarily a child's headstone but a young adult. The symbols go on and on forever.
Speaking of forever, one student felt a bit uncomfortable visiting the cemetary. She felt that it was an univiting place. As if their body may be dead and gone but their spirit lives on forever. Indeed, it did give off an univiting vibe. The bridge that leads into the cemetary can only fit one car at a time, which made it difficult for many to enter. The cemetary was nicely keep but it was centered in an urban gutter side of town. Hmmmmm. Interesting.
Another interesting fact about Elmwood cemetary is that it is the original burial place of Nathan Bedford Forest, a founding member of the KKK. Remember him back in my blog entitled "A Park to Remember". Well there just so happens to be a lot of people wanting him and his very large statue back at Elmwood cemetary and I'm one of them. The thing is, I think that Nathan would fit right in at the cemetary. His headstone would help compliment the cemetary even more. I mean, who wants a creepy spirit like Nathan Beford Forest in a public park? Because when he starts scaring all the little kids , who ya gonna call? I'll tell you who to call, GHOSTBUSTERS!!!
Ok, that's not what really happened. But it would of been really cool if it did. It was actually a Tuesday afternoon and it was quite sunny. Me and my Honors Inquiry class were given a tour of Elmwood Cemetary by Mrs. Bodayla. Sounds frightening, doesn't it? In all honesty, it was quite humorous. We were shone really cool headstones; one of which that made the person seem quite insignificant. Her headstone read,"Dorothy Ann Whitaker: Born, Who Knows? Died,Who Cares?"
Mrs. Bodayla, whose toured many cemetaries around the world, had filled the class in on all things graveyard. She told us about how the early cemetaries were run by people of horticulture and how some cemetaries are on a grid pattern but most are usually not. The class also learned about the symbols on a headstone. Headstones with a lamb symbolizes innocence; meaning it's of a child's. Headstones that feature a tree that's chopped symbolizes a life that's been cut short. It isn't neccessarily a child's headstone but a young adult. The symbols go on and on forever.
Speaking of forever, one student felt a bit uncomfortable visiting the cemetary. She felt that it was an univiting place. As if their body may be dead and gone but their spirit lives on forever. Indeed, it did give off an univiting vibe. The bridge that leads into the cemetary can only fit one car at a time, which made it difficult for many to enter. The cemetary was nicely keep but it was centered in an urban gutter side of town. Hmmmmm. Interesting.
Another interesting fact about Elmwood cemetary is that it is the original burial place of Nathan Bedford Forest, a founding member of the KKK. Remember him back in my blog entitled "A Park to Remember". Well there just so happens to be a lot of people wanting him and his very large statue back at Elmwood cemetary and I'm one of them. The thing is, I think that Nathan would fit right in at the cemetary. His headstone would help compliment the cemetary even more. I mean, who wants a creepy spirit like Nathan Beford Forest in a public park? Because when he starts scaring all the little kids , who ya gonna call? I'll tell you who to call, GHOSTBUSTERS!!!
In Whitman's Words and Mine
Beat! Beat! Drums! is a poem written by Walt Whitman that describes how what was being looked at as a short lived war is going to turn into a long, drawn out war. Also describes the thought of how the civil war was disrupting all aspects off life, both adult and children, civilian and soldier. Whitman's words were very inspiring. I dedcided that I would write a poem inspired by his. However, after a deeper anaylsis of Beat! Beat! Drums!, I realized that I already had. A Beautiful World is a poem I wrote after the 9/11 attack. I entered it into a poetry contest and became a semi-finalist. My poem was published in The Colors of Life, an international library poetry book.
A Beautiful World
A beautiful world,
A world full of kindness and grace,
A world that's just a beautiful place,
A world were no one stands alone,
A world were no one is without a home,
A world were peace is abound,
A world were love is all around,
A world were everyone believes in God,
A world were parents don't have to use the rod,
A world were war does not exist,
A world where people laugh and reminisce,
A world where the sky stays nice a blue...
Wow!
Wouldn't that be so beautiful if it were really true?
Facing History and Ourselves
Last night I was presently surprised at how profound, interesting, and insightful the lecture given by Dr. Alvin S. Poussaint at the Hutchinson School was. Dr. Poussaint managed to speak on very heavy subjects such as race, poverty, outreach programs, and violence in a conversational and insightful manner. I was truly impressed by his insights.
The section of the lecture that stood out the most to me was his assesment of corporal punishment in the home and in the schools. Dr. Poussaint believes that when a parent "spanks" their child too often, it sends the child a message that violence is okay, and even necessary for survival. He even went on to suggest that prolonged child abuse negatively effects the thought and logic portion of a child's brain, causing them to have violent reactions and preventing them from having proper conflict resolution skills.
That portion of the lecture stood out to me because when I was growing up, I had one parent who believed in corporal punishment, and one who did not. I spent the majority of my time with my mother, who did not believe in corporal punishment, and I had other siblings who spent more time with my father who did. As a result, I am much more soft spoken, and a firm believer in conflict resolution, while they are not. While my other siblings are much more disciplined, I feel as if they lack the self confidence needed to truly be well rounded. I have personally thought a great deal about whether or not I should "spank" my own child, and I still have not decided, however, Dr. Poussaint helped put corporal punishment in perspective for me and for that I am grateful.
The section of the lecture that stood out the most to me was his assesment of corporal punishment in the home and in the schools. Dr. Poussaint believes that when a parent "spanks" their child too often, it sends the child a message that violence is okay, and even necessary for survival. He even went on to suggest that prolonged child abuse negatively effects the thought and logic portion of a child's brain, causing them to have violent reactions and preventing them from having proper conflict resolution skills.
That portion of the lecture stood out to me because when I was growing up, I had one parent who believed in corporal punishment, and one who did not. I spent the majority of my time with my mother, who did not believe in corporal punishment, and I had other siblings who spent more time with my father who did. As a result, I am much more soft spoken, and a firm believer in conflict resolution, while they are not. While my other siblings are much more disciplined, I feel as if they lack the self confidence needed to truly be well rounded. I have personally thought a great deal about whether or not I should "spank" my own child, and I still have not decided, however, Dr. Poussaint helped put corporal punishment in perspective for me and for that I am grateful.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
A Day at the Dixon
Eyes that speak to you, landscapes that move you, and sculptures that entice you: these are the elements that the "Bold, Cautious, and True" exhibit posses. History lies within the walls of The Dixion Gallery. There, history is told without saying a word.
Never again will I attend a museum so casually dressed. Upon entering, there were middle aged ladies wearing their Sunday best, as if they were going to church or a tea party. I entered the Dixon decked out in Aeropastale sweat pants, polo, jacket, and tennis shoes. I felt so out of place. However, all of my out-of-place feelings went away when I entered the exhibit. Reading the timeline of Walt Whitman, and observing and reading about the portraits, made me feel secure in myself. My mother pointed out that if not for the war, we probably would've still been serving Master his tea. The exhibit featured a painting by Thomas Satterwhite's The Price of Blood really spoke to me and my mother. The painting shows a mulatto (mixed) young man being sold by his white father to another slave owner. Being very fortunate of not being a slave, I came to realize my freedom: my freedom of dress, freedom of speech, and freedom to just be me. There were other paintings and sculptures that stood out from the rest. The scuplture The Freedman by John Quincy Adams Ward really made my mother gasp. She was in awe of how Ward dipicted a "strong black man" as she said. All in all, the day at the Dixon was unlike any other day. It was filled with history, art, and appreciation.
Never again will I attend a museum so casually dressed. Upon entering, there were middle aged ladies wearing their Sunday best, as if they were going to church or a tea party. I entered the Dixon decked out in Aeropastale sweat pants, polo, jacket, and tennis shoes. I felt so out of place. However, all of my out-of-place feelings went away when I entered the exhibit. Reading the timeline of Walt Whitman, and observing and reading about the portraits, made me feel secure in myself. My mother pointed out that if not for the war, we probably would've still been serving Master his tea. The exhibit featured a painting by Thomas Satterwhite's The Price of Blood really spoke to me and my mother. The painting shows a mulatto (mixed) young man being sold by his white father to another slave owner. Being very fortunate of not being a slave, I came to realize my freedom: my freedom of dress, freedom of speech, and freedom to just be me. There were other paintings and sculptures that stood out from the rest. The scuplture The Freedman by John Quincy Adams Ward really made my mother gasp. She was in awe of how Ward dipicted a "strong black man" as she said. All in all, the day at the Dixon was unlike any other day. It was filled with history, art, and appreciation.
Chapters 3 & 4 of our reading
In my reading of chapter four, I was amazed at the statics of Memphis in the fields of education. Memphis has a graduation rate of 48.5% which is one of the worst in the U.S. It ranked fourtieth in the graduation rates among the fifty largest public school systems. Our poverty rate is 23.5 %. I also thought about what I read about how we have a fortune 500 company, FedEx, in Memphis. If that is so then why are we in poverty? I have not heard about FedEx giving back to the community of Frayser in which I live. It is down the street from my residence, yet the community is still in shambles. Also it amazed me in chapter 3 how large shelby farms is in comparison to other city parks. I was also stunned that they were even considering putting an interstate throught Overton Park. How outrageous......
New Hunan
I went to New Hunan around 12:30 this afternoon with my friend Brittney. The food was amazing! We both ate from the buffet. They had an array of choices. There was of course rice, teriyaki chicken, pork on a stick, sweetcorn, french fries, etc. There were a number of desserts as well. I had chocolate and banana pudding, vanilla icecream, a cream puff, and a piece of cake. The atmosphere was very quiet and calming, except the occassional slamming of dishes. The pictures on the wall were beautiful! I really would like to have one in my bedroom. When first walking into New Hunan, I saw nothing but caucasian people. So I thought oh my goodness they have me in a place with nothing but white people. To my surprise they were not bothered by my prescence and in a few more minutes black people and other chinese people began to walk through the door. Their fried chicken was awesome also. Everything I ate was delicious and I plan on going back there one day this week with my boyfriend.... I can't wait to tell my mom about my experience when she gets off work at 4:3o. I was skeptical about going to a chinese restaurant because I do not like chinese food but everything was tasty today! The meal cost $15.15 for my friend and I together! That's a bargain. The buffett is $6.45 before 4:00pm and $8 and something after that time. Either way I had a wonderful afternoon. My friend and I departed ways around 1:30pm..... I plan on going back to this restaurant really soon ,no joke!
Monday, October 5, 2009
Give Honor Where Honor is Due.
The visit to the Nathan Bedford Forrest Park was interesting to say the least we had a very good discussion about Nathan Bedford Forrest and the reason why he is in the park. We all had different point of views for different reasons. I actually don't mind the fact he is buried there. I would just like them to write in that he was one of the founders of the KKK since that is a part of his history as well. I believe that was intentionally left out. We as a people have come so far that a statue in a part does not discredit us. If anything it shows how far we all have come not just blacks but whites as well. We should not say that this man doesn't deserve to be Honored because of his past. I believe people can change if given the chance.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Fianlly I Am Ready To Blog
There is so much that I would like to blog about, however I have decided to make my first blog about the inability to blog. My fellow Honor students I did not receive the blog information when you did. When Professor Branch asked us did we receive the blog I was a little concerned. However, I shook it off. I was thinking maybe I overlooked the email or it was sent to the spam folder. I also thought about which email address Jeni had. So I decided not to say anything and to recheck my email. I checked and checked for a whole week and still no email. Finally, I emailed Professor Branch and he forwarded the email to my address. I was excited and looking forward to beginning my Honors blogging adventure. So I opened the email and read it. Low and behold there was no link to connect me to the blog. With my hands on my hips and my eyes looking to the ceiling, I took a deep breath. This blogging thing was beginning to become a little more complicated than I thought it would be.
By this time, it was time for me to attend my SGA meeting at Macon. The blog would have to wait yet again. When I arrived at Macon several of my SGA mates were on the computers and I walked over to say hello. Zaina Branch (we share the same last name) was on one of the computers and she motioned for me to come over. She began to tell me about how she was receiving my emails. Immediately my energy efficient light bulb lit up. Zaina's email address at Southwest is tcbranch and I am tebranch. Oh what a difference one letter can make.
To make a long story short, Zaina forwarded my emails. I was able to obtain access onto this site and I am now blogging. I have one more comment. Professor Branch and Jeni, when are you taking me to lunch? I think I will order the Bloggers Delight!!!!
By this time, it was time for me to attend my SGA meeting at Macon. The blog would have to wait yet again. When I arrived at Macon several of my SGA mates were on the computers and I walked over to say hello. Zaina Branch (we share the same last name) was on one of the computers and she motioned for me to come over. She began to tell me about how she was receiving my emails. Immediately my energy efficient light bulb lit up. Zaina's email address at Southwest is tcbranch and I am tebranch. Oh what a difference one letter can make.
To make a long story short, Zaina forwarded my emails. I was able to obtain access onto this site and I am now blogging. I have one more comment. Professor Branch and Jeni, when are you taking me to lunch? I think I will order the Bloggers Delight!!!!
Monday, September 14, 2009
To honor or not to honor
Do you think there should be a statue of one of the founding members of the KKK in a public park? This question was one of the topics in a class picnic discussion at Nathan Bedford Forest Park. Some students didn't mind the statue, they were of African descent and weren't bothered by the honoring statue of the KKK member. They felt that the statue did no harm. Others felt that Nathan's army duties in the Civil War made him deserving of the honor. Many, such as myself, felt otherwise. Physically, the statue can't do any harm but symbolically, the statue makes a bold statement for a prejudice man whose ways of thinking are now unjust according to today's civil rights laws. It was mentioned that the people during Nathan's time period were not as educated as citizens are today which is why the statue was initiated in the first place. With that said, I can't come to a conclusion as to why it's still standing. Shouldn't a statue of someone like Martin Luther King take its place; a man who made peace and not war, a man who's worth a lot more remembering and a lot more honor. Moreover, it's still Nathan Bedord whose statue is seen for public display. When will they knock it? When will it get blown away during a massive hurricane? When will the statue of a more honorable man or woman be seen in a public park in Memphis? These are questions that for many years have gone unanswered. However, by peace and justice seekers alike, these are same questions that will remain asked for many more years to come until the resolution arrives. Nathan Bedford Forest, honored by his people but not mine.
A Park To Remeber
Sirens, old buildings, and a statue of one of the founding members of the KKK. These are the components of the Nathan Bedford Forest Park. Doesn't that sound like a great place to have a picnic. Hahaha! However, in all seriousness, the park isn't that bad. The lawn is nicely manicured with leaves rustling to the ground. Seemingly, well-bred, tax paying American citizens walk it's pathways. You can hear the traffic. The bright orange trolley does not go unnoticed.
Walking through the park, one may come across a gazebo-type structure with a sitting area an columns. The columns are decorated with some of the finest Memphis graffiti. Graffiti that says, "GAY SEX SHT ALL NIGHT." If you're wondering 'why is the 'i' absent in the curse word', don't ask me. I write it like I see it. Nevertheless, it's not the graffiti that should deter one from visiting the historical park. For some, it's the confederates who throw an annual meeting, shouting, "The south shall rise again." If a meeting of such were to happen, there's a call box for concerned pedestrians. Despite those meeting, people of all colors stroll through the park; Black, White, and Asian.
As my classmates and I look around, we notice quite a few interesting things about the park. For instance, the park isn't necessarily kid friendly. There's no sand box or money bars; only bent park benches and an old gymnastic-looking metal contraption seeem to exist. Futhermore, one of the biggest factors concerning the park is that it's not your ideal place to have a picnic. Yet, there we were, conversing about the history of Nathan Bedford while eating chicken salad sandwiches and chocolate chip cookies. Oddly enough, the time spent was quite memorable in a park that won't be forgotten.
Walking through the park, one may come across a gazebo-type structure with a sitting area an columns. The columns are decorated with some of the finest Memphis graffiti. Graffiti that says, "GAY SEX SHT ALL NIGHT." If you're wondering 'why is the 'i' absent in the curse word', don't ask me. I write it like I see it. Nevertheless, it's not the graffiti that should deter one from visiting the historical park. For some, it's the confederates who throw an annual meeting, shouting, "The south shall rise again." If a meeting of such were to happen, there's a call box for concerned pedestrians. Despite those meeting, people of all colors stroll through the park; Black, White, and Asian.
As my classmates and I look around, we notice quite a few interesting things about the park. For instance, the park isn't necessarily kid friendly. There's no sand box or money bars; only bent park benches and an old gymnastic-looking metal contraption seeem to exist. Futhermore, one of the biggest factors concerning the park is that it's not your ideal place to have a picnic. Yet, there we were, conversing about the history of Nathan Bedford while eating chicken salad sandwiches and chocolate chip cookies. Oddly enough, the time spent was quite memorable in a park that won't be forgotten.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Whitman the Nurse
The ideas that each artist conveyed in their pieces help to transform the Gallery into a time warp that made the words of every history book read up until that moment seem so bona fide. I love art, it is a silent voice of every artist emotions behind the covered canvas that can yell at a person to act or be a part of a cause. For every brush stroke I felt a million unspoken words that the people in the paintings wanted to say to me, but because they were frozen in time and space I was left to create my own version of their life story.
The reality of war was the subject of the exhibition…from death, to the irony of slaves fighting for freedom it all said “remember me”. There was so much to say about the exhibit and the many pieces of art on display, but the most momentum came from the gallery holding “The Wound-dresser” theme. Being that I am a nurse in process I could appreciate the hard work that Whitman put into trying to save the lives of the wounded and hurt soldiers. He literally went from looking for his brother to a nurse in a matter of minutes. I had just read about the health care changes that took place during and after the Civil War, but to see it from his perspective and to read the corresponding poetry about his experience made it more than just a story of the past but a reminder of my future in nursing.
The reality of war was the subject of the exhibition…from death, to the irony of slaves fighting for freedom it all said “remember me”. There was so much to say about the exhibit and the many pieces of art on display, but the most momentum came from the gallery holding “The Wound-dresser” theme. Being that I am a nurse in process I could appreciate the hard work that Whitman put into trying to save the lives of the wounded and hurt soldiers. He literally went from looking for his brother to a nurse in a matter of minutes. I had just read about the health care changes that took place during and after the Civil War, but to see it from his perspective and to read the corresponding poetry about his experience made it more than just a story of the past but a reminder of my future in nursing.
Dixon Gallery & Gardens
One of the great things about this class is that even though I have little knowledge of Memphis and a not so great preconceived notion of what is it suppose to be, yet, I am learning around every corner there is something new and fascinating. The drive to the Dixon Gallery was not any different from any other drive I have made, but for some reason on my way down Perkins Exeter I was mesmerized by the beautiful park dedicated to the survivors of cancer. I had no intentions on being late for my tour so I headed there early to make sure I would not be late. Because I had a few moments to spare I could not help but stop and admire the art work right there in the park and think about how important that was for me being that I have lost so many of my family to cancer and also because I am a survivor myself.The entrance to the Gardens of the Dixon Gallery was deceiving as I thought that this was going to be a small place with a few trees to look at. But to my amazement I saw acres of grass that made me want to sit down and write about everything that I felt in that moment. I decided to take a stroll around before I had my architectural tour and found myself lost in thought of what it would be like to be a child playing in this garden. Illusions of fictional characters played around in my head as I took a seat in this enchantment imagining this must be how Alice felt in wonderland.
Reality set in as I made my way to the gallery to hear about the great Architect John Staub who built the home for the late Hugo and Margaret Dixon. The house itself was smaller than I would have thought should have been on 17 acres of land, but then again it made since with the flow of nature that the architect envisioned.
The tour explored the idea of simplicity in a family home and how Staub’s intimacy with his clients helped to create homes that did not just fit the clients need but embodied their personality. From the meticulous crown molding everywhere to the Georgian columns that greet you as you enter the home; Staub made sure to make the home tell the story of the owner while inviting you to come in and get comfortable.
You could see all of the French and British influences in the home, and in spite of the renovations to meet current needs the home still reminded me of a plantation house. From what I could gather about the Dixon family, they dedicated their lives to philanthropy efforts and charity through their love of art which brought me to the Gallery today. I have been to many art galleries and museums but today I was up close and personal with a Claude Monet, and that alone was the highlight of my tour.
Reality set in as I made my way to the gallery to hear about the great Architect John Staub who built the home for the late Hugo and Margaret Dixon. The house itself was smaller than I would have thought should have been on 17 acres of land, but then again it made since with the flow of nature that the architect envisioned.
The tour explored the idea of simplicity in a family home and how Staub’s intimacy with his clients helped to create homes that did not just fit the clients need but embodied their personality. From the meticulous crown molding everywhere to the Georgian columns that greet you as you enter the home; Staub made sure to make the home tell the story of the owner while inviting you to come in and get comfortable.
You could see all of the French and British influences in the home, and in spite of the renovations to meet current needs the home still reminded me of a plantation house. From what I could gather about the Dixon family, they dedicated their lives to philanthropy efforts and charity through their love of art which brought me to the Gallery today. I have been to many art galleries and museums but today I was up close and personal with a Claude Monet, and that alone was the highlight of my tour.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
A Walk In The Park...
As many of us took the first true look at the park that looks us in the eye as we embark on our journey of knowledge everyday, we began to realize who we were in conjunction to the images we have of the past. I am not one that let's my past persuade my future but in those moments that I realized I was walking through a park that my grandmother would have been killed if she stepped a foot in; I saw how the past was the momentum of my present and my son's future.
Everyday we are confronted with the idea that maybe we are not as free as we think we are in a country that takes pride in the ideology of freedom, but in comparison to the past we are the writers of not only our own future as well as those to follow.
I am not from the area so I knew nothing about the park, nor did I realize that the section of land I drove around everyday to come to class was actually a park. So the reading we were assigned opened my eyes to view my surrounds not as a whole but as segments that represent the sum. The land was not a park to me because everything about it said "stay away"; from the statue to the broken benches and the poor landscaping I was not appealed to be there. But, as we began to speak on out interpretation of the reading in comparison to the visions we now hold of the park and its meaning I discovered I represented the "Lost Cause" of yesterday and the hope of tomorrow.
Yesterday was more than a picnic in the park to enjoy get food and stimulating conversation, and the stroll that we took was more than a walk in the park. For some it was the reminder of the hurtful past, a broken idea and the glorification of a dream. While for others it was the force that drove us to be were we are today and striving for more than our great-grand(anythings) were offered yesterday. The stroll revealed trees that seemed to be crying, homelessness that is overlooked, dreams that have become reality, ideas of power that fell short and prayers of a race that did not fall upon deaf eyes.
Nathan Bedford Forrest's statue is a poor symbol of what Memphis was at the time it was erected because it only represented the ideas of a class or group of people that were so high on power they could not sober themselves enough to see reality. At the same time this small look into the past helps to remind most of us that we have come so far...sometime we have to visit the past to understand the future, but we don't have to live there to appreciate our present.
Everyday we are confronted with the idea that maybe we are not as free as we think we are in a country that takes pride in the ideology of freedom, but in comparison to the past we are the writers of not only our own future as well as those to follow.
I am not from the area so I knew nothing about the park, nor did I realize that the section of land I drove around everyday to come to class was actually a park. So the reading we were assigned opened my eyes to view my surrounds not as a whole but as segments that represent the sum. The land was not a park to me because everything about it said "stay away"; from the statue to the broken benches and the poor landscaping I was not appealed to be there. But, as we began to speak on out interpretation of the reading in comparison to the visions we now hold of the park and its meaning I discovered I represented the "Lost Cause" of yesterday and the hope of tomorrow.
Yesterday was more than a picnic in the park to enjoy get food and stimulating conversation, and the stroll that we took was more than a walk in the park. For some it was the reminder of the hurtful past, a broken idea and the glorification of a dream. While for others it was the force that drove us to be were we are today and striving for more than our great-grand(anythings) were offered yesterday. The stroll revealed trees that seemed to be crying, homelessness that is overlooked, dreams that have become reality, ideas of power that fell short and prayers of a race that did not fall upon deaf eyes.
Nathan Bedford Forrest's statue is a poor symbol of what Memphis was at the time it was erected because it only represented the ideas of a class or group of people that were so high on power they could not sober themselves enough to see reality. At the same time this small look into the past helps to remind most of us that we have come so far...sometime we have to visit the past to understand the future, but we don't have to live there to appreciate our present.
Nathan Bedford Forrest Park visit
Our picnic yesterday at Nathan Bedford Forrest park was a pretty good experience. Before our outing, I had walked through the park, but never really visited it. A lot of things were pointed out yesterday about the condition of the park that I had not previously noticed like the worn out benches and the unkempt exercise equipment. I had never noticed, but it really is different from all of the other local parks; it almost seems as if no one truly supposed to picnic, exercise, or play there. While the grass is kept nice and neat, and the trees are trimmed, all of the things that attract people to parks such as benches, playgrounds, and cooking areas are non-existent. In my opinion part of the reason is the fact that the park is so tiny, and the other part of the reason is that the park is so very controversial. I also finally got a good look at the statue of Nathan. It was very pretty and well made.
A lot of people are hurt by the fact that the grand well-made statue of Nathan Bedford Forrest, co-founder of the KKK and Confederate War General, stands in the park today in the 21st Century with a historical land marker. Perhaps the same amount of people would be very angry if the statue were to be torn down. I am pretty sure the statue will always be a subject of debate, but for now the pro-Nathan debaters are definitely winning.
Personally I do not like to speak on issues that I have such passionate feelings about because I have such a one-sided view. After leaving the park, I spoke with my great-grandmother who was born in 1909, and is still alive. She was very displeased to hear about our picnic in Nathan's park. She is old enough to feel the pain that is connected to the actions of the KKK. She (obviously) thinks the statue should be torn down. On the other hand, my great gran is very old, illiterate, and she does not have a progressive attitude. After talking to her, I felt as if that way of thinking is old-fashioned. The statue does not necessarily symbolize racism, it is more or less a tangible object that makes sure that African-Americans know and appreciate how far they have come as a people.
A lot of people are hurt by the fact that the grand well-made statue of Nathan Bedford Forrest, co-founder of the KKK and Confederate War General, stands in the park today in the 21st Century with a historical land marker. Perhaps the same amount of people would be very angry if the statue were to be torn down. I am pretty sure the statue will always be a subject of debate, but for now the pro-Nathan debaters are definitely winning.
Personally I do not like to speak on issues that I have such passionate feelings about because I have such a one-sided view. After leaving the park, I spoke with my great-grandmother who was born in 1909, and is still alive. She was very displeased to hear about our picnic in Nathan's park. She is old enough to feel the pain that is connected to the actions of the KKK. She (obviously) thinks the statue should be torn down. On the other hand, my great gran is very old, illiterate, and she does not have a progressive attitude. After talking to her, I felt as if that way of thinking is old-fashioned. The statue does not necessarily symbolize racism, it is more or less a tangible object that makes sure that African-Americans know and appreciate how far they have come as a people.
Picnic
Hi; The Honor class had a picnic and topic discussion on Tuesday at the Forrest Park. I would like to let you all know just how interesting, informative, and most of all fun, we had eating and discussing the topic. We brought blankets, food and drinks, and our discussion book. The discussion on Nathan Bedford Forrest, being a Confederate memorial figure/hero was very intriguing, stemming from the reading of Memphis and The Paradox of Place written by Wanda Rushing. Everyone gave his or her perspective on the historical aspect of the park and it's memorial. We all walk around the park to determine if we could get the feel or insight, the people had in 1905 at the memorial dedication ceremony of the Forrest's monument. We also discussed today's affect the park have on people. There were many observations and comments, each with a remarkable distinctiveness.
The food was good and the discussion was knowledgeable and exciting. I think everyone had a good time while learning at the same time. I would like to suggest to those who have not already visited the park to do so. Those who have visited it to revisit it again to see if they can get a new perspective on the park. You may want to do some research on the park and it's commemorative figure first, you will find it very fascinating.
Eloise
The food was good and the discussion was knowledgeable and exciting. I think everyone had a good time while learning at the same time. I would like to suggest to those who have not already visited the park to do so. Those who have visited it to revisit it again to see if they can get a new perspective on the park. You may want to do some research on the park and it's commemorative figure first, you will find it very fascinating.
Eloise
Nathan Bedford Forrrest Picnic
I enjoyed our picnic yesterday a lot. I just wish I had remembered to get a picture taken! I even asked Graham to bring his camera, but then I forgot to ask him to take a picture.
One more thing: we need an article for this event in The Reflector. Somebody needs to write an article, I'd say in the 400-600 word range, and get it to me soon. I'll let the first person who volunteers to write it have that assignment. It would be great if I could get it by next week.
I was struck by so much during our picnic, but especially how the Nathan Bedford Forrest Park really did seemed designed to encourage people NOT to linger. We talked about the few park benches, all of them broken. We noted that there was no playground equipment and that the pavillion was in bad repair with nowhere to sit. The only real "amenities" were the pieces of equipment put up for joggers, giving them a place to stretch. Again, the idea is this is a place to jog to, maybe jog around, but not linger. It's interesting: do you think that either on a conscious or maybe even a subconscious level the city government doesn't want people to spend too much time in that park because of the negative connotations of what it represents for so many people?
One more thing: we need an article for this event in The Reflector. Somebody needs to write an article, I'd say in the 400-600 word range, and get it to me soon. I'll let the first person who volunteers to write it have that assignment. It would be great if I could get it by next week.
I was struck by so much during our picnic, but especially how the Nathan Bedford Forrest Park really did seemed designed to encourage people NOT to linger. We talked about the few park benches, all of them broken. We noted that there was no playground equipment and that the pavillion was in bad repair with nowhere to sit. The only real "amenities" were the pieces of equipment put up for joggers, giving them a place to stretch. Again, the idea is this is a place to jog to, maybe jog around, but not linger. It's interesting: do you think that either on a conscious or maybe even a subconscious level the city government doesn't want people to spend too much time in that park because of the negative connotations of what it represents for so many people?
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