by Jan Toomer
As we – each year – celebrate the American holiday of July 4th – Independence Day – I often look back over the history that was taught and the hidden history of the US of A.
Don’t get me wrong – I am grateful for the US of America and, to date, happy to be an American.
The Hate in the South
I was in the 6th grade when my family moved from the Midwest to the Deep South – and I had a very rude awakening.
I had never considered skin color or financial status of anyone, so when people refused to look at me, or would cross the street to walk on the opposite side… I was confused.
One say, I was talking to an older woman; she wouldn’t look at me when I was talking to her – I lost it and began sobbing.
The woman asked me what was wrong. I told her that my mom was right, that I was a freak.
The confused woman asked me what I was talking about – so I explained that recently people refused to look at me when we were talking, and they would move to the other side of the street so they wouldn’t have to walk on the same sidewalk as me.
That was the day I
- learned about racism and prejudices
- was first called “honey child” (and loved it ever since!)
This beautiful, warm, loving grandmotherly person hugged me until the sobs stopped, and she gave me a lesson on “black versus white” in the Deep South.
I was horrified! People saw skin color and treated others differently because of it?
After I expressed my outrage, she verbally encouraged me to never lose that part of me.
Jumping to High School
I was respected by some and hated by others – I still had refused to see skin color.
Why does one’s skin color make them the enemy? No, I refused to be that way.
One of our history teachers gave an essay assignment – write an essay on something about local history. We were to turn it in, and then we would each stand up in class and read it out loud.
I dove in with both feet. Interviews, trips to the library, etc. – researching information from the ‘40s and ‘50’s up to the then present.
I wrote with passion; if those in school could see the history of torture and horrors, then they could help stop it from happening tomorrow!
I turned mine in.
Then day came that we were to begin reading them to our classmates. The teacher would call a name, hand the student their graded paper, and they would read it to the class.
It took two days, I think; on the last day, after a student had finished reading their essay, the teacher announced that everyone did well and moved to a new topic.
I raised my hand; she acknowledged me and I said that I had never received my paper or got to read it in class.
She smiled and said for me to stay after class.
After class, I nervously approached her desk.
She sat down, fidgeted and finally looked up at me and began speaking.
She told me that she had read mine and that my paper received an “A” – and then she promptly destroyed it.
“What?” was all that I managed.
She said she was protecting her life and mine. She explained that “exposing” the history of the KKK was not a good idea and it put her life in danger (for her skin color) and mine in danger; though, she continued, she did admire what I was trying to accomplish.
World War II
I was born with intact memories of being captured, tortured and eventually dying in a mass grave in Germany during WWII. I had been a female Jew, and was the recipient of various “medical experiments”.
Death March
I have memories of being Native American and being forced on a death march…and watched my child die in the snow on this death walk.
Civil War
I was solider from the north, killed on the field during the Civil War.
And there are others – other lifetimes living with or in the shadow of racism and prejudices.
Why Am I Bringing All of This Up?
However, my friends, I – Jan – was born in 1962 in Ohio.
That is where and when this life for my soul began as Jan.
I am not my ancestors – or anyone else’s ancestors.
As an adult in this life, I worked to forgive Germans for my Jewish self; the “whites” for my Native American self; and for fighting my own US brothers for the freedom of slaves.
And none of this should be important to you or anyone else.
Why?
Because, Jan was born in the US in 1962 – it matters what I have done in, and with, this life.
I will not wallow – or hate – for my past life experiences, or the past of the Americas.
I am grateful for the chance to be here – grateful to pre-Native American’s though to our veterans and soldiers of today – and am truly sorry for any injustices, hate and/or pain throughout USA’s – and the world’s – history.
We have all had hardships and pain – past lives and current.
It’s what we do now that counts…hate and anger free; working to stop the anger and hate from perpetuating. It’s time to heal the pain – to release the hate, fear and anger and continue forward.
Happy Independence Day to Everyone
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