Our History Still Saddens Me

Those who know me well know that I like to discuss and write about race and ethnicity. They also know that I have been pursuing genealogy for more than 25 years now. Though I came of age at a time when, at least in my high school, there were no black history classes, I grew up with a strong knowledge and pride of my black ancestry. As I've pursued my personal genealogy over these 25 years, I also developed a knowledge of and love for history. As I've read and discovered many of the atrocities African-Americans underwent during our history in this country, I have still not become inured to what occurred. I am often amazed, but more often saddened, at the mindset of many whites in the early history of this country. One such person was Dr. Walter Plecker. Dr. Plecker was the first Registrar of Vital Statistics for the state of Virginia. Dr. Plecker was a racist, a white supremacist and a proponent of eugenics. For the uninformed, eugenics is the now discredited theory that applying the principles of genetics to improve humankind. That is the "nice" definition. Its most rigorous proponents felt that interracial relationships diluted the superior race and, therefore, should be prohibited. Sir Francis Galton, in 1904, stated "Eugenics is the study of the agencies under social control that may improve or impair the racial qualities of future generations either physically or mentally." Wikipedia defines eugenics as a "social philosophy which advocates the improvement of human hereditary traits through various forms of intervention." See http://www.ourfounder.com/jleroy/eugenics.htm for a primer on eugenics. All of this is, of course, code language for selective breeding and a method to promote irrational fear of miscegenation.

About ten years ago, I stumbled across what I thought was an index of the marriage license of my paternal great-grandparents. I mailed the required fee to Virginia to obtain a copy of the actual license, knowing it would not only contain the dates of their marriage, but also the names of their respective parents. After an anxious two-week wait, I received the copy. As I eagerly perused the license, I realized that, rather than it being the marriage license of my forebears, it was the license of white couple with very similar names. Disappointed, I filed the license away. Several years later, I was able to obtain via inter-library loan, the actual microfilm of the marriage license. On the microfilm, I once again saw the marriage license of this same couple, but the race white was struck through and "Col." was handwritten on the license. After some research, I learned about the infamous Dr. Plecker. It seems that shortly after he was appointed Registrar, Dr. Plecker decided there were no true "Indians" left in Virginia, but rather "negroes masquerading as Indians." He then sent a directive to all of the vital records offices in Virginia warning of these negroes and directing the staff in those offices to comb vital records and "correct" the records. His memo even included a list of the negro families who were doing this. See http://www.melungeon.org/node/91 for an actual copy of Plecker's 1943 letter. In 1924, Plecker had this to say at a joint session of the Public Health Administration and Vital Statistics Section of the American Public Health Association in a speech that was published in 1925 in The American Journal of Public Health:
"When two races live together there is but one possible outcome, and that is *the amalgamation of the races. The result of this will be the elimination of the higher type, the one on which progress depends. In the mixture the lower race loses its native good qualities which may be utilized and developed in the presence of a dominant race."

"The mongrels are superior in mental power to the lower race. They are more cunning and more capable, but they lack the creative power of the higher race, and cannot sustain a lasting civilization that will rank with the best of the world."

Both my paternal and maternal great-grandmothers were Native Americans. After Plecker's racist initiative, many Native Virginians fled Virginia rather than be classified as "colored" or negro. Following Plecker's death in 1947, his successor continued Plecker's legacy. At about the same time Virginia's Racial Purity Act was passed, another act, "The Sterilization Act was passed. From 1927 to 1979, about 8,300 Virginians were sterilized involuntarily in Virginia.

From the grave, Plecker continues to harm the Native population of Virginia. In order to be a federally recognized tribe and receive certain federal benefits, a tribe must prove its continuous existence since 1900. Because of Plecker's actions and his declaration that there were no Indians left in Virginia, many Virginian tribes are fighting to this day to prove their continuous existence.

Further reading:

http://www.amren.com/mtnews/archives/2004/09/the_black_white.php
http://www.virginiavignettes.org/?p=45
http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1157/is_1999_April-Sept/ai_70872606/pg_5

Am I One or Two

More than a year ago, I picked up The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle. It is a very enlightening book, not a book to be read once and put up on the shelf, but rather a book to be read, thought about and picked up again and again. It is more an ongoing course than a book. It took me a while to fully grasp the concepts illustrated in the book. One of the early parts of the book asks the question, Am I One or Two. The author, at a particularly depressive stage in his life, made this statement to himself, I can't live with myself any longer. With this statement, he realized that there are two of him: the one he couldn't live with any longer and the one who realized he couldn't live with the other any longer. This leads to the question, are we controlling our brains or is our brain controlling us. The two are NOT the same. After reading this, I realized that I have control of my brain, and therefore, my thought processes. I can control the outcome of my day, my life. It reminded me of those who say that people cannot hurt us; we can only allow people to hurt us. For a long time, I had trouble with that. I would argue that people very often do hurt us and we end up hurt not because we allow people to hurt us, but because we are hurt by the actions of others. Then, after much reflection, I understood. People and events can certainly aim to disappoint or hurt us, but it's up to us to allow the hurt or disappointment to occur. Our mind tells us: That hurts. That's disappointing. If we follow through on the "orders" from our mind, we experience that hurt, that disappointment. Think about it. Have there been times when you've resolved that a certain situation or person is not going to hurt or disappoint you – and they haven't? If so, you've taken control. We are not our mind.

We all hear "voices" in our head. Yet, we don't go rushing off to a psychiatrist nor send for the men in the white coats. These voices speculate, judge, compare, complains, like or dislike. These voices belong to our conditioned mind, often or usually based on past experiences or even cultural mindsets. Listen to that voice for a minute. Don't judge it or censor it, just listen to it. Then realize that there is the voice and you are listening to it. Two separate things, beings. Once you realize this, you can end involuntary and compulsive thinking. Tolle says that by doing this, you can direct the focus of your attention into the Now. This thinking is the essence of meditation. Instead of focusing on the past, you're focusing on the here and now.

I wrote in an earlier post about the concept of stillness, just letting our minds be still and enjoying the peace of the moment. Try it. You'll notice sounds and sights you've never noticed before. You won't notice the car horn blasting for your neighbor nor the airliner flying overhead, but instead will hear the chirping of the birds, the whispering of the trees, the brilliant azure sky. With this stillness comes a certain unshakable peace, a certain bliss.

 

Love,

T

Things I’ve Stumbled Across on the Web

I found a site called www.obsoleteskills.com

One poster, who called herself Ms. Obsolete posted the following and admitted she still did them all:

* Adjusting the rabbit ears on your TV set
* Adjusting a television's horizontal and vertical holds?
* Adjusting the tracking on a VCR
* Cleaning head of a VCR?
* Darning a sock
* Defrosting the Icebox?
* Formatting a floppy?
* Having Cash?
* Lining up paper on a dot matrix or line printer?
* Looking up a business on the yellow pages?
* Local Grocery Store?
* Paying for something with a check
* Replacing Shoe Sole and Heels
* Reading a paper map?
* Rewind VCR tapes?
* Sending a letter?
* Setting the timer on a VCR?
* Threading a needle?
* Using a card catalog?
* Using a fountain pen?
* Using a typewriter?
* Using carbon paper to make copies?
* Using correction fluid?
* Winding up loose cassette tape with a pencil eraser before putting the cassette in the deck?

Many of these I had forgotten. I learned to type on a manual typewriter and using carbon paper was standard. I can't remember the last time I used a paper map. I usually use Google Maps and/or a GPS system. My Yellow and White Pages have dust on them. I never did darn a sock. I throw them away and buy new ones. I still love fountain pens though I don't currently have one.

Another interesting site http://members.tripod.com/mnmee/games/Jokes/funfacts.htm has funny and odd facts. For instance, did you know that a cat has 32 muscles in each ear? Or, that a group of unicorns is called a blessing?

How about a page with odd state laws? http://www.harford.edu/Faculty/DVolkart/Handouts/odd_state_laws.htm For here, I learned that in my adopted state of Texas, the entire Encyclopedia Britannica is banned in Texas because it contains a formula for making beer at home. To be fair, in my home state of Pennsylvania, In Morrisville, women need a permit to wear cosmetics.

Laughter is Medicine for the Soul!

Blessings!
T

Whatcha Listening To?

I have always loved music and I have always loved to dance. One of my resolutions this year was to dance, sing and listen to music every day. I got sidetracked a little with my father's illness and subsequent passing. But, I am getting back to my resolution! I have oodles of cd's and my video Ipod is filled with music. Periodically, I surf Itunes to get old school music that has been remastered onto cd. I'm slowly but surely replacing the vinyl with cds.

On my listening list of late:

Al Jarreau (still love We Got By and Look to the Rainbow)
Lou Rawls (especially the live album)
Oleta Adams (another beautiful voice that sadly faded away)
Phyllis Hyman (my homegirl, still miss her)
India.arie
Peabo Bryson (he's got new music out and he hasn't lost his touch a bit)
Blue Magic (boy, does What's Come Over Me bring back some memories!)
Isaac Hayes (By the Time I Get to Phoenix ALWAYS sounds good! RIP Isaac)
Rob Thomas
Josh Groban
Chante' Moore (her new cd is really good)

and a new artist I discovered while surfing Itunes:
Carol Riddick. Check her out y'all. The girl's got some pipes. Check out A Better Me http://www.myspace.com/carolriddick


Music has always warmed and lifted my soul. I grew up hearing the melodious voice of my father. Between he and my uncles, they played every instrument and played them better than most musicians today. Music is in my bones. It just makes me feel good!

Have a blessed weekend!

Love,
T

Congratulations Brentin and Ramenta!

Receiving Line

Parents of the Groom

Parents of the Bride

Bridal Party

Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Brentin Cottrell!
Welcome to the family, Ramenta!

I travelled to New Jersey to attend the wedding of one of my "baby" nephews a few weeks ago. The ceremony was beautiful and it was wonderful to attend a family gathering that was joyous. The food was good (strawberries dipped in white chocolate - Yum!) and the music was off the hook. One of my nephews actually got me up on the dance floor (after a few sips of champagne) and I cut the floor a little.

Everybody had a great time. After a honeymoon to Mexico, the new couple will reside in Philadelphia, but will shortly relocate to Maryland.

Much love Brentin and Ramenta!
Aunt T

Climbing back on the saddle

It's been a while since I've posted on this blog. If you read my last post, you know that I lost my beloved father on March 22^nd. It's been a struggle for me to get back to me since that time. Though my father had been sick for quite a while, I really had not prepared myself for living the balance of my life without him. I miss him so much. Because I am still in Pittsburgh in the home where he lived, there are daily reminders of him. It's been kind of surreal for me. Because he was in and out of the hospital so often the last two years, it seems like he's just away at the hospital or the rehab center. When it slams home to me that he's not and that he's not coming back, I get a stabbing pain in my heart and the tears once again flow. Strangely, my mother seems to be coping the best out of all of us. I suppose that older people accept death as inevitable and perhaps are more accepting of it when it occurs. Though I know that my Dad is no longer in pain and being poked and prodded, the selfish, imperfect human side of me still wants him here with me. I want to be able to hear his beautiful voice. I want a few more hugs. I want to just know that he is still here. I know that my Dad would not want any of us to be sad, that he was ready to go, that he only hung on as long as he did for our sakes. Yet, I was not ready for him to go. I want to believe that "he's in a better place." But, how do we really know? Some religions teach that the dead are resurrected to heaven and are wearing wings and golden shoes. Others teach that at death, a person ceases to exist and that hell is the grave. Though I've lost others who were dear to me, my father is the closest person I've lost to death and suddenly, I want to really know what happens at death. A friend told me recently that my father gave me all I needed to build and live my life as a good and successful person so he had done his job. This is true. So much of who I am, the values I hold dear, the traditions I cherish, the importance I feel of family, are all directly attributable to my Dad. Thank you, Dad.

T

His Name was Bill

His Name was Bill

.

My memories of him are numerous:

• Cream fills and cruellers from Wohfarth's bakery every other payday Friday
  
• Cartons of hotdogs with all the toppings from the Original Hot Dog Shop on Station Street
  
• Hot sausages from Frankies on Station Street
  
• School picnics with the family at Kennywood, ended by a family ride on the train
  
• Post office picnics at Westview
  
• Dad and Uncle Jimmy paneling walls, laying tile and painting
  
• Fixing anything that needed fixing around the house
  
• Don't put your hands on anybody but if somebody put their hands on you, defend yourself
  
• Carrying a club made from the bottom of the Christmas tree to school with us to fend off bullies. (They never bothered us again.)
  
• Whuppings when we needed them
  
• Sunday school and church at Mt. Ararat
  
• His playing Row Row Your Boat with the grandchildren and great-grandchildren standing on his lap
  
• Getting what we wanted for Christmas, not what we needed. Christmas was for fun stuff.
  

Bill loved pecan rolls, halibut, red salmon patties, steak, oysters and BUTTER. But, most of all he loved and cherished his family. Family was paramount to him. Like his father before him, he believed that if you had your family, you really didn't need anybody else. He didn't have many outside activities that didn't include his family.

But, most of all, I remember the music. Bill had a beautiful baritone voice. I grew up listening to the rich, melodic sound of his voice as he sang both religious song and popular standards. I have often said over the years that Nat "King" Cole voice was nothing compared to his. I still remember all the words to Moon River, You Belong to Me, Mona Lisa, and so many others. Years after he left the choir, I would often run into people who remembered him and they always mentioned his beautiful voice.

Bill was a man of his word. If he said he would do something, it was as good as done. To him, a man's word was his bond. He didn't believe in foolishness or loud talking and shouting. Though Bill was a quiet man, he had strong opinions on many things and if asked, he would discuss anything with you.

Bill was a proud, loving and independent man.

His name was Bill, but we called him Dad.

William Garfield Cottrell, Sr.
January 28, 1926 – March 22, 2008