A Song For Mama

I have a concept that sorta’ drives me. This concept is called Black Improvement. It’s an Improvement Movement where people of African descent focus solely on Improvement. I’ve often wondered how our country might have evolved if instead of focusing on being equal with other Americans, Blacks focused upon improvement in all areas which may have included Civil Rights. It is through this movement that I’ll approach my offerings:

Recently my children and I surprised their mother by creating a song, and subsequently creating a video about their Mama. Using the crazy group name 'Grandpa Crunk’ we’ve released the song “I Love My Mama” online on I-Tunes and released the video on YouTube. The song is a combination of rap verses by my children and a chorus sung by my friend Zoe Wilks. The process of writing the song, creating the music, practicing the song, recording the song, writing the storyline for the video, and shooting the video was a great joy. I had a chance to force my children to focus their creative juices on celebrating their mother. One of the lines of the song is “When I’m in doubt you tell me I can do, when I look at you (mother) I kinda’ see God too.” I’ve often told my children that in addition to being a word referring to the Supreme being, GOD can also refer to Good Orderly Direction. Later my children and I re-released the song using the group name DIVAGirl as my lil' girl has decided she wants to become a Disney star.

Many of the African-centered scholars and lecturers that I used to follow in the 1980s through the early 2000s used to urge blacks to guide their children in business ventures early on the provide them with a business background which will result in Blacks becoming and acting in a more business-like manner. The rationale at that time was to create ‘Black Owned’ businesses to employ our children to reduce the influence of the streets on our children and to eradicate the experience of poverty from the Black experience. These lecturers also described using a process of meeting with the elders in our communities to learn the stories of our people forcing America to become a better place. Those stories from the elders and being involved in business activities, according to these scholars, would give our children a launching path towards success. My parents heeded their call to action and involved our family in the recordings of oral history from elders in the community during my youth in New York and Ohio.

My choice to guide my children in this ‘Song for Mama’ adventure was done to celebrate their mother, to teach them about aspects of the business of the music industry, and to lead them through the process of making a commercially viable good that they might profit from . One of the things I didn’t expect were the discussions about the lyrics which centered on the Good Orderly Direction towards improvement that children should learn from their mothers. My children were emphatic in the inclusion of Aunties, Grandmothers, Church mothers, and teachers in their song as these women also taught Good Orderly Direction.

11/21/2011 - We began our 2011 Spring break trip by dropping off my widowed mother (Mum) at her family’s home in Atlanta Georgia. As we traveled from Hampton Roads to Georgia my Mum and I spoke to keep me awake at the wheel. Her stories included the struggles her mother while she was a child growing up in Georgia in the early 1940s through late 1960s. En-route to Atlanta I realized that we would be in proximity of Decatur where Mum attended and graduated from theological school in 1966. She attended Columbia and according to my father, who became our ancestor in September 2009, Mum was the first Black to graduate from Columbia Theological. As a side trip I decided to visit Columbia’s campus. Mum stated years ago that she never intended to step foot on the campus again after she graduated. Since 40-some years have passed I thought it might be fun to do an impromptu campus tour to obtain some photos of Mum on her ol’ stomping grounds.
On 11/13/2007 Dad needed to go to the conference office to teach a class for the newest ministers in the Southern Conference of the United Church of Christ. While driving those sleepy country Suffolk Virginia roads dad began drifting into stories of Mama. Pops met mom as he returned from ministering in Scotland. A minister supervising him shared to pops "when you return to the states and go to Atlanta I want you to meet a friend of mine who is in the administration at Columbia (Columbia Theological Seminary in Decatur Georgia). They took in their first female Negro student and they need help."
One of Mom's Ministers and mentors was the first Negro male to attend the school a few years prior. He did not graduate from the school and only was able to take a few classes. Pops then shared how Mom was that female “Negro graduate” and she caught hell from the other students studying to be ministers. This administrator and the administration of the school were courageous..... they courted this negro after her Presbyterian church-college, Agnes Scott College, refused to take her (since they sent their negro-money to Stillman College to help their Negro Presbyterians). Pops shared how mama would sometimes be the only student in her classes as others peers would drop the course as soon as they saw her. By providing support to this hard-headed girl catching death threats and harassment from her 'Christian' peers Dad fell in love. He was there as my grandmother lost jobs when they found out mom was marching in the civil rights marches and was going to their school. Mom took the pain, cried her tears, passed the tests, and graduated. Mom shared with me that she caught Hell from the 'Christian' professors and her 'Christian' peers because she was both a woman and Black. She shared how the only outright support came from the ladies who were attending the college as they were facing the evils of sexism. Some of the professors hated the fact that women were being trained in the ministry. Mom was leery of the women, but she accepted their support.


A female "white-peer" who supported Mom painted a masterpiece full of color with many faces looking forward. Those eyes were said to be Mom's classmates as her female peer explained to her. Interestingly enough Mom's classmate painted the faces of the evil eye folks brown. I remember seeing this painting hanging in the basement-closet of our home in New York. I always wondered why a painting would be hanging in a closet. I remember seeing this painting in our garage while living in Columbus, Ohio. I always wondered why Mom would look at this work of art and stiffen her bottom lip with tears welling in her sleep deprived eyes. I remember getting a ‘whupping’ for something I did and shouldn’t have done and mom catching a glimpse of those brightly-wicked eyes. She fell to her knees and sobbed. Then I didn't care, my beating ceased. Mom hated that painting and gave it to an aunt who hung in prominently in her college dormitory. Mama's pain, Aunties' propeller. I am thankful for those eyes and the experience it provided. Mom made history and opened doors for our people. Mom became the first Black and the first Black Woman to graduate from Columbia Theological Seminary...Daddy fell in love. Thank the creator.

Today we slowly walked around the college and allowed Mum to reminisce about her classes and the times she spent as a grad student on the campus. A bulk of her time on campus was spent solely in the classes. She left campus as soon as her classes were over as she didn’t feel brave enough to try to force herself into the school’s social life, and also felt anger towards her classmates and the school staff for the behaviors they exhibited towards her. Mom looked radiant and discussed painful memories in a very triumphant manner. Columbia was a great college who took a difficult stand against racism and sexism in the late 1960s. She shared the triumph with the administration who courted her attendance, supported her stay by finding a support for her who ultimately became her husband of over 45 years, and aided to find financial support to aid her way. She also felt humbled that she was a great part of the history of the school.

A young white female student stopped and asked if she could help us by taking a photo of the entire family. As she raised my camera to her eyes my wife noted Mum’s history. The student stopped and thanked Mum for being for her bravery and heroism. She then stopped all of the students who walked by and shared the story making Mum a Rock Star Alumnae. Mum reveled in the reverence and smiled in a deep manner that has been fairly absent since my father’s death. My children danced and smiled for the photos and shared how their grandmother was like Rosa Parks and Ruby Bridges for aiding America to move in ‘Good Orderly Direction’ towards improvement.

Unexpectedly I realized that my father and those African centered lecturers were right; Every Black child should know of and revel in their family’s history of improvement. Every Black child should be involved in the creation of commercially viable and valuable products.


As the photos continued my Lil’ girl began humming the tune to her song “I Love My Mama” as she and her brother hugged their grandmother, my Mama. I extend those hugs and the song to all of the mothers who have been an intricate player in the improvement of America, and the improvement of Blacks. To you mothers we say Thank you. To you mothers we sing “I Love My Mama”! This song is for you. Be Improved Ya’ll !

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