Tag Archives: #BlackLivesMatter

#BBLM, #BlackLivesMatter, Benicia Black Lives Matter

Benicia Schools honor Ruby Bridges


BENICIA BLACK LIVES MATTER
…OUR VOICES…

From BeniciaBlackLivesMatter.com
[See also: About BBLM]

“Benicia Schools joined thousands of other schools around the country to commemorate and celebrate Ruby Bridges, who was one of the first African American children to attend an all white school in the segregated South.”

November 22, 2022
By Sheri Leigh, a member of Benicia Black Lives Matter

Last week, several of the Benicia Schools joined thousands of other schools around the country to commemorate and celebrate Ruby Bridges, who was one of the first African American children to attend an all white school in the segregated South.  This was the second year that any of our schools participated in this important event.  Last year, Benicia Black Lives Matters (BBLM) partnered with the PTA and the administration at Robert Semple Elementary School to hold the first march and celebration in Benicia to honor the young American heroine and her family for the brave decision to risk Ruby’s personal safety and comfort to help create a more equitable future for all American children.  Every student at Robert Semple was present for readings of Ruby Bridges books and Ms. Bridges’ letter to students.  The children were enrapt while listening to the readings and asked in depth questions about Ruby’s life. The event at Robert Semple was so moving and powerful that BBLM worked with the City and School District to make this an annual, City-wide event.

Ruby Bridges was born in 1954 during the middle of the Civil Rights Movement, shortly after , Brown v. The Board of Education was enacted.  The famous Supreme Court ruling declared that separate public schools for white children, from which children of color were banned, was unconstitutional.  The segregated schools had six years to integrate.  Many of the southern states were extremely resistant, waiting until the end of the transition period or until they were forced into compliance by the US government.

In 1960, young Ruby was living in New Orleans, Louisiana, which was one of the last southern areas to enforce the federal mandate of integrated schools.  As Ruby prepared to enter the first grade, her parents responded to a request from the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) and volunteered her to participate in the integration of the New Orleans schools.  With the intent of continuing to keep Black children out, the Orleans Parish School Board opted to administer a rigorous entrance exam at their all-white schools. Ruby was one of six Black children who passed the challenging admissions test.  Two of the other five children decided not to attend the soon to be integrated schools.  Three of the others were transferred to McDonogh Elementary, and Ruby was sent alone to William Frantz Elementary.

On Ruby’s first day of school, the white community and nearly all of the white families protested by pulling out their children from that school and/or by gathering at the school entrance to shout at and threaten the small girl and her escorts.  It was reported that Ruby conducted herself with dignity and stoicism.  She did not cringe or cry, but simply ignored the threats as she bravely walked into the building.  All but one teacher protested by refusing to teach.  Although most of the children and teachers eventually came back, Ruby was taught in class by herself for the first year by Barbara Henry, a teacher from Boston.

The impacts of her bravery were harsh on Ruby and her family.  Her father was dismissed from his job.  Stores refused to sell goods to the family.  Her grandparents in Mississippi lost their land.  Her parents, under extreme stress, eventually divorced.  But there was support as well.  One family in the community donated clothing and supplies to Ruby to help aid her success.  A local psychiatrist volunteered his time to provide Ruby with mental health support, and she remained strong and mentally sound despite the stress.

Today, Ruby Bridges (now Ruby Bridges Hall) still lives in New Orleans with her husband and sons.  She is an activist for tolerance and equity and the chair of the Ruby Bridges Foundation, which she formed in 1999 to promote “the values of tolerance, respect, and appreciation of all differences.” Describing the mission of the group, she says, “racism is a grown-up disease and we must stop using our children to spread it.”

On Monday, November 14, with the help and support of members from BBLM and the community, the Benicia City Schools organized walks, pledges, displays and in-school activities to commemorate the tremendous efforts that were made by Ruby Bridges and others to provide a safe, integrated and equitable education for all children in this country.  Robert Semple, Joe Henderson and several of our other schools participated with great enthusiasm.  Although some of our schools sadly minimized the activities or did not participate at all, this is a tremendous step Benicia Schools have made towards the recognition and celebration of the history of all our families.

If you would like more information about Ruby Bridges Day or the efforts of BBLM, please contact us through www.benicia blacklivesmatter.weebly.com

Previous ‘Our Voices’ stories here on the BenIndy at
Benicia Black Lives Matter – Our Voices
     or on the BBLM website at
beniciablacklivesmatter.weebly.com/ourvoices

#BBLM, #BlackLivesMatter, Benicia Black Lives Matter

‘Our Voices’ – One Benicia Man’s Contribution to California History


BENICIA BLACK LIVES MATTER
…OUR VOICES…

From BeniciaBlackLivesMatter.com
[See also: About BBLM]

“One of our early Black residents was a local barber named Joseph McAfee – a contributing citizen, a soldier, and an underground activist. It is likely McAfee arrived in California in the early to mid-1840s…”

October 14, 2022
By Sheri Leigh, a member of Benicia Black Lives Matter

When you look around the streets of Benicia, it is obvious that there are fewer Black faces than white.  The 2020 population data from the US Census reports that there are only 3.22% African Americans and 9.51% People of Mixed Race living here.  However, this data is only reflective of numbers, not of the remarkable history of Blacks living in Benicia.  Here is one Benicia man’s story, steeped in California and American history.

In September of 1850, when the State of California was admitted into the Union, there were 21 Black residents within Solano County.  Six of them resided in Benicia, which at that time, had a total population of 480 people.  One of our early Black residents was a local barber named Joseph McAfee – a contributing citizen, a soldier, and an underground activist.

It is likely McAfee arrived in California in the early to mid-1840s, during the great Western migration, when California was still a Mexican territory.  At that time, slavery was legal in this territory, and most Blacks arrived here with their subjugators.  Fourteen of the 21 original Black Solano County residents were bound for Vacaville as “indentured” slaves.  Although it is not clear whether McAfee was a former slave or not, he allegedly arrived in California as a free man.

In June of 1846, Joseph McAfee joined many other California settlers in Sonoma for the rebellion known as the Bear Flag Incident, a revolt instigated by John C. Fremont against Mexican government rule.  With McAfee’s and other Black participants’ help, the rebellion prevailed.  Mexican general Mariano Vallejo was temporarily imprisoned, and the territory was declared the “Bear Flag Republic,” which paved the way for eventual California statehood.

In 1849, McAfee, along with hundreds of other African Americans, joined the George Wyatt gold mining expedition.  They mined at Murphy’s Diggings in Calaveras County.  A year later, many of the enslaved Blacks who joined the party were able to purchase their freedom with their earnings from the prosperous mine.

Meanwhile, as California prepared to become a State, the status of People of Color did not improve.  In 1849, during the California Constitutional Convention held in Monterey, lawmakers enacted several discriminatory pieces of legislation which further disenfranchised Africans, descendants of Africans, and Native American people. The new laws interfered with daily freedoms, rights to land ownership, citizenship, and other oppressive codes similar to those enacted in other parts of the country during  that time.

In 1850, as California was granted statehood, Joseph McAfee settled in Benicia and opened up a community barbershop with his earnings from the gold mines.  Although California was declared a “Free State,” within a year the new State of California passed its own version of the Fugitive Slave Act, requiring the return of runaway slaves to their owners.  McAfee took action and joined the other local abolitionists in the establishment and operation of the Western Underground Railroad in Solano County, creating a safe haven for those seeking freedom from slavery during pre-Civil War California.

McAfee remained in Benicia until the mid-1860s before moving to Santa Cruz, shortly after the promulgation of the Emancipation Proclamation abolishing slavery in all States.  His efforts in the Underground Railroad helped to empower those who were wrongfully enslaved and secured a path towards a more equitable society.  And his contributions helped bring a special part of history to Benicia.

Now, nearly 160 years later, there is still work to be done.  Although legally all citizens have the right to freedom, land and business ownership, voting, etc. there is still racial discrimination, both systemically and individually, directed towards People of Color.  It continues to be the goal of Benicia Black Lives Matter and other organizations directed towards positive change to help usher in a new, more equitable era free from racism and discrimination.  If you would like to join us in this effort, please contact us at www.benicia blacklivesmatter.com.

*The information in this article is based on information from the “North Bay Area African American TimeLine 1850-1925” and a 2012 article from the Daily Republic, entitled, “Exhibit Highlights Benicia’s African American Heritage,” written by Ian Thompson. 

Previous ‘Our Voices’ stories here on the BenIndy at
Benicia Black Lives Matter – Our Voices
     or on the BBLM website at
beniciablacklivesmatter.weebly.com/ourvoices

Anti-racism, Benicia Black Lives Matter, Education

Latest ‘Our Voices’ – With the right approach to learning


BENICIA BLACK LIVES MATTER
…OUR VOICES…

From BeniciaBlackLivesMatter.com
[See also: About BBLM]

“With the right approach to learning, I know our schools can provide a more holistic, respectful, and equitable educational experience for all of our young people in the future. “

August 29, 2022
Branden Ducharme, White male, age 20
Lifetime Benicia resident

As a person who spent all of their elementary and secondary education in Benicia schools, I can vouch for the consistent underlying tones of racism that run through the school system and much of the student body.  I witnessed it regularly.  Sometimes I was a part of it – not to be deliberately demeaning, but because I wasn’t aware.  

There were passing comments among the students that denigrated students of color, and of course, racially biased jokes.  There was self segregation of the various races during lunch and breaks, which I believe is because kids do not feel welcomed or comfortable with students who are unlike themselves.  There were incidences of students using racial slurs towards other students to deliberately insult them, particularly when tempers flared.   

To my shame and embarrassment, I can recall repeating a racially insulting joke about police shootings when I was in the fourth grade. I had heard the joke from older friends, one of whom was an adult and staff member at an afterschool center I attended. They were all laughing at the punchline, so I thought it was cool. I shared this “joke” with my friends at school, a few of whom were Black.  To their credit, my Black friends called me on it. They complained to the administration. I was called into the principal’s office to be reprimanded, rightfully so. Rather than have a proper discussion about the reality of racism in America and the interpersonal and societal impacts of racist jokes, racial bias, and exploiting Black trauma, I was merely told that my joke was offensive and racist. There was no in-depth analysis of what “racist” truly means. I was made to reflect on my racist comment and write a letter of apology to my peers. However, how can one reflect without proper guidance at such a young age? How can one genuinely apologize for what they do not fully understand? Sadly and understandably, the friends who reported me chose to no longer remain friends with me.  Their actions said way more than the principal (who evidently is now a prominent figure in the district and a roadblock to anti-racist initiatives) had, and losing their friendship was the bigger part of this life lesson for me. I could see their pain and disgust but I did not understand the roots of it, which was a failure on the part of Benicia schools. 

Racism is prevalent systemically as well. For example, in my thirteen years in the District I can only recall three Black teachers and one Black administrator.  As an aside, the Black high school administrator was the friendliest and most positive vice principal I have yet to encounter, yet he was dismissed mid-year and replaced by a more conservative and traditional white woman who was not able to make the connections with the students that her predecessor forged.  Discipline, when involving white students and students of Color, typically favored the white students. And if highly charged and insulting racial slurs were the provocation of an escalated situation, the impact of those remarks were not validated or treated as very significant when directed at a student of Color.

One of my biggest concerns about the perpetuation of racism in the schools is the curriculum.  Most of the history and literary texts used in Benicia schools are very white-centric. They approach history primarily from the experiences and perspective of the white settlers and their progeny, while largely ignoring the violence, betrayal and subjugation that whites frequently committed upon others from that point forward. History curriculum is rarely, if ever, presented from the perspective of Black, Asian, Indigenous, or Latin people, nor the many other populations and cultures that make up this country.  We did discuss slavery and civil rights but only minimally and, for the most part, only during Black history month.  The literature introduced in school was nearly always written by whites, and most commonly about whites, rather than reading books from the wealth of important and excellent literature written by marginalized voices. I can only imagine how minimized students of Color feel when their history and culture is largely ignored by the very school from which they are getting their basic education.  

As I got older, I became more aware of prevailing racism, both at school and in the community.  Around age 15, I was walking around First Street with two Black male friends. It was a weekend evening around 9pm, and we were laughing at something funny one of us said. As we passed by Sailor Jacks, a middle-aged white woman exited the restaurant, and came towards us, clearly angry at something.  She was obviously inebriated and immediately directed her anger at my friends for laughing too loudly.  She did not address me, even though I was participating in the hilarity.  My friends were harassed and berated for disturbing a supposedly quiet night when her own behavior, in my opinion, was out of line.  She was loud, she was publicly intoxicated, and she was racially biased in her actions. Most importantly, we were doing nothing wrong, yet for some reason, this woman’s bias guided her self-proclaimed right to treat those she thought socially beneath her with inappropriate contempt.  

I have found that it is easy to be racist and not even know it.  People, those who are white in particular, develop bad patterns because they are not taught early enough to be more open, accepting, and equitable in their minds and actions. Social and interpersonal conditioning make bad behaviors even more difficult to unlearn.  Our experiences in elementary and secondary school have a huge impact on who we become as people. As I prepare to attend UCLA this fall to study sociology, I am making it my goal to generate change within this inherently racist country. With the right approach to learning, I know our schools can provide a more holistic, respectful, and equitable educational experience for all of our young people in the future. Schools are a vessel for change, insofar as what is taught in them reflects a desire to confront inequality, racism, sexism, patriarchy, and all other forms of bigotry or flawed ideology.

Previous ‘Our Voices’ stories here on the BenIndy at
Benicia Black Lives Matter – Our Voices
     or on the BBLM website at
beniciablacklivesmatter.weebly.com/ourvoices

#BlackLivesMatter, Benicia Black Lives Matter, Black Lives Matter, Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson, Misogynoir, Misogyny, Racism, Senator Cory Booker, US Supreme Court, Women's equality

Benicia mom Amira Barger: I’m a Black Bay Area parent. The Ketanji Brown Jackson hearings were disappointing — though not surprising

A Black Bay Area parent and community activist reflects on the Ketanji Brown Jackson hearings

SFGate, by Amira Barger, March 30, 2022

Supreme Court nominee Ketanji Brown Jackson becomes emotional during an impassioned speech by Sen. Cory Booker, D-N.J., during her Senate Judiciary Committee confirmation hearing on Capitol Hill in Washington, Wednesday, March 23, 2022. | Andrew Harnik/AP

I hope my daughter never has to endure the treatment Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson has been subjected to.

Being a Black woman and the mother of a young Black girl, I felt it was important for her to witness this historical moment. But instead of the positive experience it could have been, the scene that played out was sadly familiar. As we sat together watching the Senate Judiciary Committee confirmation hearing, my nine-year-old wondered why Texas Sen. Cruz frequently interrupted Jackson.

“May I say a word I’m not supposed to?” she asked. “Isn’t he kind of being…a jerk, and why isn’t anyone doing anything?”

I explained a lesson from bell hooks: “Sometimes people try to destroy you, precisely because they recognize your power — not because they don’t see it, but because they see it and they don’t want it to exist.” Black women have a common experience — we are often required to respond with restraint and calm in the face of misogynoir (misogyny directed towards Black women where both race and sex play a role), so as not to disrupt the dynamics of power. I witnessed this misogynoir with my daughter as Jackson smiled and paused — a response born of hard-earned wisdom. It was triggering to watch.

We have waited 233 years to be represented. The Supreme Court has had 115 judges — of these, there have been two Black men and five women — none of them Black. Interestingly, confirmation hearings have only existed since 1916, when Woodrow Wilson put forward Louis Brandeis, the first Jewish man nominated. Hearings were not previously required for the white Christian men who had historically held these seats. Many might suggest the treatment of Jackson is some sort of retribution for treatment received by the last two Supreme Court nominees — particularly Brett Kavanaugh. Several GOP senators alluded to as much. However, in presuming this, one chooses to conveniently forget the circumstances surrounding those hearings.

Kavanaugh was accused of sexual assault. The consternation surrounding Amy Coney Barrett had less to do with the nominee than it did with whether, only weeks from the presidential election, confirmation proceedings should be happening at all. Senators blocked President Barack Obama from replacing Justice Antonin Scalia in the spring of 2016 — months before the election. During her hearing, Barrett repeatedly sidestepped questions, stating she shouldn’t give an opinion on matters she might have to rule on as a justice. Such answers have long-standing precedent, and did not seem to ruffle too many feathers among the GOP members of the committee. Contrast that with their treatment of Jackson, berated for not answering questions even as she was interrupted time and again. Still, she sat composed as she was met with conjecture and infighting amongst senators. Compare that with Kavanaugh, red-faced and shouting at the committee about how much he liked beer.

One might also be tempted to write off the treatment of Jackson as merely partisan politics as usual. However, you would only have to go back so far as the nominations of Sonia Sotomayor and Elena Kagan to note the marked differences in tone and tenor of those hearings compared to the Jackson hearings. A desire for the “most qualified candidate” has been the GOP rallying cry in response to President Joe Biden’s promise to nominate a Black woman. Of course, the quiet part of that seemingly reasonable request is the underlying assumption that no Black woman could possibly fit the bill as “most qualified.” As a federal appellate judge, a district court judge, a member of the U.S. Sentencing Commission, an attorney in private practice, and as a public defender, Jackson has broad experience across the legal profession. A visual from the Washington Post paints a poignant picture of the totality of Jackson’s unparalleled qualifications in comparison to her would-be colleagues. Kagan, for example, had never been a judge at any level before her appointment to the Supreme Court, yet her nomination was met with a far greater degree of civility.

What Jackson endured is a result of inequitable procedure propped up by decades of empty diversity, equity and inclusion promises without accountability. True commitment to inclusion requires opportunity for any historically excluded or marginalized person to enter without constant monitoring of the system. Black women, who must overcome the bigotry of both race and gender, are most often the last to be allowed in the room. As it stands, there are no Black women in the U.S. Senate, nor are there any Black women serving as governor. Yes, Kamala Harris is the vice president. And Jackson’s confirmation would be a step. But these singular exceptions do not themselves break the ceiling too many of us encounter.

I consult in diversity, equity and inclusion, and my professional experience leads me to believe that the linguistic and mental contortion we saw Jackson masterfully navigate was not nearly as difficult as assumed. She is a trained contortionist, as are many Black women. We anticipate the questioning, racism, sexism, and blatant contempt. We know that, once in the room, the fight to prove ourselves only intensifies. We embody the age-old adage of exceptionalism: “twice as good, to get half as much”. This often manifests as an alphabet soup of degrees and certifications behind Black women’s names, mine included. The problem with exceptionalism is that it falsely espouses one will, having achieved the exceptional, be treated well. Sadly, these hearings have served to reinforce that, not only was Jackson’s humanity not sufficient to be treated well, but neither were her exceptional qualifications.

I want more than this for us. This being the vitriol, pain, and perseverance. This being hopes and dreams sandwiched between systemic barriers and misogynoir. This being agility and strength earned on a rigged playing field. I want more than what we have today. For me, for you, for my little Black girl, and all little Black girls to come. We are to be treated well because we are human. Full stop. Our success should be judged by more than proximity to an impossible and unnecessary white ideal. We are enough as we are. The preeminently qualified Jackson, with her own display of vulnerability and humanity, reminded us that being human is enough. I saw myself and my daughter in Jackson, as her daughter proudly looked on. I know many of us did. Because her story is our story.

With other supposed allies in the room, New Jersey Sen. Cory Booker had to be the one to boldly disrupt the disgusting onslaught — to affirm, to encourage, to look her in the eyes and give a moment of reprieve. As Black women, we continue to navigate a world that so often demonstrates how little it values us. The sexism, racism, and discrimination are constant. Celebration of our perseverance only serves as a tacit reminder of the systemic inequity we face while offering little in the way of actual change. Do us a favor, if you will: 1. Lead from your chair to disrupt harm. Affirm, encourage, and look someone in their eyes and recognize their humanity. 2. Call your senator and demand confirmation of Judge Jackson.

A lesson I teach my nine-year-old is one we can all apply here: Leave people and places better than you find them. Also, don’t be a jerk.

Amira Barger is a Bay Area Black mom, an adjunct professor of marketing and communications and a diversity, equity and inclusion consultant.