On this day in 1965, Malcolm X was assassinated in the Audubon Ballroom in New York City.
In the 51 years since his death, Malcolm has become a cultural icon. He’s now in the pantheon of freedom fighters that includes Richard Allen, Harriet Tubman, Sojourner Truth, Frederick Douglass, Martin Luther King, Jr. and Nelson Mandela.
In 1954, Elijah Muhammad sent Malcolm to Philadelphia to establish Temple No. 12. For years, there has been confusion about where Malcolm lived during his time in Philly. His FBI file has an address provided by an informant. I recently viewed a documentary that includes a first-hand account of where Malcolm lived. In Seeds of Awakening: The Early Nation of Islam in Philadelphia, Brother Hassan recalled:
We would sit up all night. When Malcolm was here, we’d sit up all night talking. We had a Unity House, a Fruit House, on 2503 Oxford Street. A big house. That’s where Malcolm would stay and all the brothers would come.
The house is still there. It’s been owned by the same family since 1956.
In the next few weeks, we will nominate 2503 W. Oxford Street for historic designation by the Philadelphia Historical Commission. Later this year, we will submit the nomination to the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission.
While I tend to fall in the center of the political spectrum, I’m sick and tired of all this bull that’s doing down.
The conference featured a who’s who of black radicals, including Rev. Jeremiah Wright, Patrice Armstead, Cornel West, Anthony Monteiro, Angela Davis, Pam Africa and Charlene Carruthers. While they all dropped knowledge, West’s remarks particularly resonated with me. He observed that gospel, blues, jazz and rhythm-and-blues are rooted in our spiritual striving.
West excoriated the black “misleadership class.” He said comparing today’s leaders to leaders of the 1960s is akin to comparing Kenny G to John Coltrane.
The misleadership is in stark relief in Philadelphia where we have the spectacle of an elections chief who doesn’t show up for work and doesn’t vote.
Anthony Clark said he exercised his right not to vote. Philly’s black leaders have maintained a deafening silence about this buffoon who dishonors the sacrifices of the civil rights leaders and foot soldiers who fought for the right to vote.
West and other speakers noted that our struggle for social justice is endless. Indeed, the first black political convention was held in 1831.
So we have been at it for a long time. But in the words of one of my favorite gospel songs, “I don’t feel no ways tired.” The struggle continues.
Angela Davis spoke at Saturday’s People’s Assembly. She concluded her remarks with a call to action: Wake up, everybody!
On Dec. 1, 1955, Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat to a white passenger. By staying in her seat, she stood up for racial justice.
Parks’ civil disobedience sparked the Montgomery Bus Boycott, which lasted 380 days. The economic boycott gave birth to the modern Civil Rights Movement. On Tuesday, NPR’s Michel Martin will host a national conversation focusing on whether the bus boycott still matters.
You can join the conversation via Twitter using the hashtag #busboycott60.
On Saturday at the Merriam Theater, bassist Christian McBride performed like it was 1969. McBride’s “The Movement, Revisited” is centered around the words of four Civil Rights icons, Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, Rosa Parks and Muhammad Ali.
McBride and his 18-piece band were joined by the Philadelphia Heritage Chorale, and four narrators – Rev. Alyn Waller as Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., Dion Graham as Muhammad Ali, Samuel Stricklen as Malcolm X, and Sonia Sanchez as Rosa Parks.
McBride shared that he grew up reading Jet and Ebony which gave him a history lesson in the black experience. The four icons stood out for him. “The Movement, Revisited” stems from a commission by the Portland Arts Society to compose a piece for Black History Month:
The genesis for this project began in 1998 when McBride was commissioned by the Portland (ME) Arts Society to compose THE MOVEMENT, Revisited, a two-part composition for small instrumental group and gospel ensemble. This year, McBride envisioned a project of wider scope on the same theme and it has grown into a full-scale, 90-minute production.
The narrators brought to life the personality and passion of their character. I particularly enjoyed McBride’s exuberant “Rumble in the Jungle.” The choir evoked the spirit of the Freedom Singers with “I’m So Tired” and “Freedom, Struggle.”
I don’t want to predict anything, but the magnitude of the piece – why it was written, what it was about – I can’t imagine I’ll ever write something as monumental on this scale again. I do get overwhelmed playing it, and every time I do, it feels new. Sometimes, I play this piece and still go, “Wow, did I really write this?”
If the standing ovation is any indication, the audience was wowed by the piece.
McBride’s message music harkens back to earlier generations of jazz greats who were inspired by the struggle for racial justice. In 1929, Louis Armstrong asked, “(What (Did I Do to Be So) Black and Blue.” Composed by Fats Waller, it is considered the first American popular song of racial protest.
Billie Holiday told the world about the horrors of lynching.
Both Armstrong and Holiday are featured in an exhibition at the Library of Congress, “The Civil Rights Act of 1964: A Long Struggle for Freedom.” The multimedia exhibition explores the events that shaped the Civil Rights Movement. It includes manuscripts like Dr. Billy Taylor’s “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free,” composed in 1954 and popularized by Nina Simone in the 1960s.
In 1959, bassist Charles Mingus composed “Fables of Faubus,” a satirical protest against Arkansas governor Orval Faubus who had deployed the Arkansas National Guard to Little Rock Central High School to prevent nine African American students from entering the segregated school.
Jazz has an element of freedom. It is that freedom that allowed jazz musicians to use their platform to sound a message of defiance and resistance. From John Coltrane’s “Alabama” to Max Roach’s “We Insist! Freedom Now Suite,” jazz was a soundtrack to the Civil Rights Movement.
Billie Holiday was born in West Philly 100 years ago. This morning, her star will be reborn as Lady Day is inducted into the Philadelphia Walk of Fame.
I am proud to have played a role in bringing this about.
For me, it was personal. After a failed romance when I was in law school, I started my day by playing “Good Morning Heartache.”
My best friend would ask me, “Why are you always listening to that junkie?” I ignored him. We now know Lady Day was an early victim of racial profiling.
Billie helped me get through a rough patch. It will be my pleasure to help keep her bronze plaque clean.
UPDATE: Billie Holiday’s Walk of Fame plaque unveiled. It’s located in front of the Kimmel Center.
As long as I can remember, I have loved old buildings and historic places. However, it was not until I moved to Philadelphia that historic preservation became a professional focus.
I’m a non-driver who walks a couple of miles every day. While out and about, I notice that murals are being torn down, blocked or trashed.
I also notice that developers are demolishing historic resources, including houses, movie theaters and the church where Marian Anderson learned to sing and the congregation nurtured her talent.
Philadelphia’s construction boom is fueled by the ill-conceived residential tax abatement. Historic structures are being lost because only new construction is exempt from taxes. And it’s not just happening in gentrifying neighborhoods. A developer wants to demolish the 113-year-old building that’s home to the Society Hill Playhouse to build condominiums for the one percent.
And then there’s Rev. Terrence Griffith, pastor of the First African Baptist Church, the oldest African American Baptist church in Pennsylvania and the fifth oldest in the country. The church has been continuously occupied since the Department of Licenses and Inspections filed a complaint in April. L&I is concerned about the 16th Street wall and parapet (see arrow). That section is separate from the building which houses the main sanctuary. The same sanctuary where Rev. Griffith held Sunday Worship today.
The ancestors are rolling their eyes at this out-of-order pastor who is hell-bent on selling the historic church to a developer who plans to demolish it.
Rev. Griffith ranted and raved before the Philadelphia Historical Commission, which voted to list the First African Baptist Church on the Philadelphia Register of Historic Places. In my comments before the vote, I noted:
With or without the east parapet, the First African Baptist Church of Philadelphia is a place where history happened. The church retains its historical significance to the development, heritage and cultural characteristics of Philadelphia, the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania and the nation.
He now has to investigate adaptive reuse of the historic structure. In an interview with Axis Philly in 2013, he acknowledged that repurposing should be considered:
If we do move, then we do want to preserve the history of this place [and] we will consider making the church a museum.
Rev. Griffith owes it to the ancestors to explore alternative uses for an edifice that was built with their blood, sweat and tears.
The 20th anniversary of the Million Man March will be observed on Saturday. I was one of an estimated 3000 women who were on the National Mall in 1995.
I don’t plan to get on the bus for the Justice or Else Gathering.
I’ve been there, done that. I got the t-shirt, the poster and the book. It’s now your turn. For more information, visit www.justiceorelse.com.
RT @BKCHarvard: ICYMI: Video and podcast from “My Constellation is Space”: Towards a Theory of Black Cyberculture - a talk with @DocDre htt… 3 hours ago
