My favorite time in black history (besides now, ’cause there’s no time like the present) is the Harlem Renaissance. There was such a richness and fertility of life, art, music, politics, and education that existed then. Black people were determined to promote pride, hope, optimism, and unity such that has hardly been seen on that level since. For me, the Harlem Renaissance carries a sort of regal and lavish air to it that is just so attractive.
I love the black and white photos of the men and women dressed to the nines, stepping in and out of the Cotton Club while sounds of Duke Ellington, Cab Calloway, or Ethel Waters caressed the night air. Oh, if only I could time travel back to that time! (Only for a short while, of course. I’m not sure if I could handle the segregation and bigoted treatment that was a reality only a few short blocks away.)
As a book publishing professional, I am also moved by the wealth of literature produced during this time. One of my favorites is the Souls of Black Folk by W. E. B. DuBois . It takes such a smart sociological perspective on the issues facing African Americans of that day. I am also moved by the fact that the white publishers of that time had to take interest in the word power that was exuded by these great men and women. While movements in literature are very telling about what happens in human social interaction, it didn’t stop there.
There was an uncanny amount of partnership and integration between whites and blacks during this time. Richard Powell—a John Spencer Bassett Professor, specializing in American, African American, and African Art at Duke University—says, “The Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s and 1930s was one of the first instances in the 20th century when whites—albeit white elites and white social reform types—collaborated with black intellectuals, social activists, educators, and artists in attempts to transform a largely segregated and racist American society. Although one can certainly find all sorts of instances during the Harlem Renaissance when the same old racial paradigms of the past emerged, it was also a moment of unprecedented “border crossing” and collaboration. (Online News Hour Forum: “Harlem Renaissance,” February 20, 1998.)
Can you see why I love it?
My attraction to this time period began on a trip to Philadelphia. My grandmother had died, and my dad, brother, husband, and I traveled there for her funeral. While we were strolling in the city one day, the four of us thought it would be cool to stop in and see what exhibits were on display at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. It is a really big and wonderful museum. The acoustics are perfect for Gregorian chant. We tested it out. We spoke to each other in that sing-songy fashion for most of our self-tour. I don’t know what the other, more cultured guests thought of our antics, but we were quite tickled. After browsing through their impressive collections of weaponry, coats of armor, many photos and artifacts from past technological and social movements, a beautiful life-sized replica of an Asian community, etc., etc., we came to an exhibit of African American art. If my memory serves me well, I believe it was “An Exuberant Bounty: Prints and Drawings by African Americans” with pieces from Romare Bearden, Humbert Howard, and some of Philadelphia’s own notable artists. It was a wonderful collection. It made me want to discover more about what I may have been missing about African American art.
Art is just so special in the way that it just inspires you to be something better than you are. Art doesn’t make you jealous of the artist’s talents; it makes you want to discover your own greatest assets and achieve your personal best in those areas.
I told myself as we were leaving the gallery, “I am not leaving here without buying something.” I needed something tangible to help me hold onto the feeling and memory of the experience. We went to the museum gift shop and browsed very thoughtfully through the merchandise. We were all so thoughtful and deep by this point—well cultured and carefully intuitive. That’s another thing art does to you. It makes you feel important and intellectual—even more than you really are at the time.
There it was. I found it. My tangible memory. It was a book on the Harlem Renaissance with a breath-taking cover. Not just any book, mind you, but a pictorial essay on almost every photo and art piece drafted during that time to tell of the time. The book is Harlem Renaissance: The Art of Black America .
I had attended an all-black private elementary school and high school and even went on to a historically black college, but most of what I knew and read of black art and literature was what was chosen for me. But just this small interaction with the art at this museum made me want to find my own context for all that had been drilled into me about the history of black life, art, music, politics, sociology, and education. And the book that I left with that day has helped me to see what a big contribution the Harlem Renaissance played in who and what I am today. I feel very sad that many of the young African Americans I come in contact with don’t know about the Nicholas brothers, Lena Horne, Louis Armstrong, Billie Holliday, Josephine Baker,Langston Hughes, Claude McKay, Alain Locke, James Weldon Johnson, W. E. B. DuBois, and Zora Neale Hurston . The artistry and thoughts of these individuals, especially during a time of such social and political unrest, could inspire my generation and those younger than me to be the best they can be.
I believe that recounting history is for the benefit of the future. History’s purpose is to contextualize the present and give reason for why and how things can be better and continue to be better.
Just the other day, I watched Cabin in the Sky with my seven-year-old and four-year-old. They requested it! I couldn’t believe it. We watched the whole thing together just like I had watched it with my dad when I was a child. Partway through the movie, one of our young African American friends stopped by the house. He’s in his early twenties. He asked what we were watching. I answered casually, not realizing by my tone I had unconsciously assumed that he knew the movie. He asked, “What’s that?” “Hmm,” I thought. I proceeded to tell him about the movie being one of the first movies produced by a major motion picture company with an all-black cast. I began to mention the names of some of the actors: Lena Horne, Ethel Waters, Duke Ellington, and Louis Armstrong. No light bulbs went off. He didn’t know any of them. I wondered, "Why doesn’t he know about this stuff?" Then I thought about what a difference it would make in how he lives his life if he did.
I recognize and am happy that I live in a generation where color is not so much the issue between friends. Most of the people I work with or do music with are white or Latin American. We talk freely about our cultural idiosyncracies, and I feel very good about that. But even more so, I have confidence in who I am within these groups because I know where I come from. I don’t live in the past or bear down on anyone else about the importance of celebrating Black History Month, but I have allowed its reality and strength to seep deep inside my character. It has latched onto me like one of those core beliefs such as “hard work pays off” or “the early bird catches the worm.” We all just kind of know the basics of what it will take to be successful. Whether we do them or not…
I don’t have to walk around all day "big upping" my "blackness" and live angry because of the struggles my ancestors fought with. Being black is just who I am. I can’t be more or less black, although other black people have tried to say that I don’t act black—whatever that means. Being black is part of who I am, and I take in all its strength, creativity, uniqueness, power, and passion and bring it all into the context of my life. And for me the Harlem Renaissance is the height and pinnacle of what black can look like in its most accepting, accepted, and full nature.
What about your culture does this for you? Is it a certain time in history? An inspiring story specific to your ethnicity? A stand-out person in your life? Your own personal battle overcome? Seek it out and find your strength.