Aquabitourmaline

What becomes of the broken-hearted?

Mon, 06 Apr 2009 15:41:05 GMT

285
Number of enslaved Africans listed in the October 1759 estate inventory of Daniel Parke Custis (Martha Washington's first husband). Custis dies in 1757 without a will, so the widow is granted a dower share � the lifetime use of 1/3 of the estate's assets. Her dower share, along with the rest of her late husband's estate (including the enslaved Africans), is held in trust for their son Jacky (born 1754).
At least 85
Number of enslaved Africans assigned to the widow Martha Custis as part of the dower share of her late husband's estate. Because she does not own, but has the lifetime use of these enslaved Africans and of their increase (future children and grandchildren), they are called dower slaves. [NOTE: The exact number is unclear because the inventory does not list all children individually.] The 200 or so additional Custis estate slaves (and their increase) continue to farm the Custis plantations but George and Martha Washington receive no economic benefit from their work; rather it all accrues to the benefit of Martha's son Jacky.
1759
Year in which the widow Martha Custis marries Colonel George Washington, on January 9.
~36
Estimated number of enslaved Africans owned by George Washington at the time of his marriage. Using his new wife's wealth, he buys land, more than doubling the size of Mount Vernon. Most of this land is farmed by his wife's dower slaves, but Washington also buys more enslaved Africans himself. In 1760 he pays taxes on 49 enslaved Africans; in 1770 on 87 enslaved Africans; and in 1774 on 135 enslaved Africans. [NOTE: These numbers do not include the dower slaves.] Washington's last recorded purchase of enslaved Africans is in 1772, but he later receives a few others in repayment of debts.
1775
Year in which Jacky Custis turns 21, inheriting two-thirds of his father's estate (his mother's dower share is held in trust for him until her death). Jacky dies in 1781, leaving a widow and four children. His estate, plus the 1/3 of his father's estate controlled by his mother (the dower share), is held in trust for his children.
113
Number of dower slaves listed in the 1786 Mount Vernon slave census. The increase is due to the dower mothers having children. All children of dower mothers are themselves dower slaves.
103
Number of "Washington" slaves listed in the 1786 Mount Vernon slave census.
1790 Census
3,893,635
Total population of the United States in 1790 according to the U.S. Census.
694,280 / 59,150
Population of enslaved Africans / free blacks in the United States in 1790.
President Washington in New York City (1789-90)
340,120
Total population of New York (State) in 1790 according to the U.S. Census.
21,324 / 4,682
Population of enslaved Africans / free blacks in New York (State) in 1790.
7
Number of enslaved Africans that Washington brings to New York City in 1789 to work in the presidential household: Will Lee, Moll, Austin, Oney Judge, Giles, Paris and Christopher Sheels.
President Washington in Philadelphia (1790-97)
434,373
Total population of Pennsylvania in 1790 according to the U.S. Census.
3,737 / 6,537
Population of enslaved Africans / free blacks in Pennsylvania in 1790.
8
Number of enslaved Africans that Washington brings to Philadelphia in November 1790 to work in the President's House: Moll, Austin, Oney Judge, Giles, Paris, Christopher Sheels, Hercules and Richmond.
1
Number of enslaved Africans that Washington subsequently brings to Philadelphia. "Postilion Joe" first appears in the President's House documentary record in 1795.
2
Number of President's House enslaved Africans who successfully escape to freedom from Philadelphia: Oney Judge and Hercules.
1791
Year in which an amendment is proposed (and fails) in the Pennsylvania Assembly to exempt all slave-holding officers of the federal government (including Washington, his Cabinet, and the Supreme Court) from the Gradual Abolition Act. This was an attempt to make the state more hospitable to slave-holders in hopes of having Philadelphia become the permanent capital of the United States. The proposal is withdrawn before debate after heated opposition from the Pennsylvania Abolition Society.
1793
Year in which the U.S. Congress passes and Washington signs the Fugitive Slave Act. The U.S. Constitution (Article IV, Section 2) guaranteed the right of a slave-holder to recover a runaway slave. The Fugitive Slave Act establishes the legal mechanism for accomplishing this, makes it a federal crime to assist an escaping slave or interfere with his recapture, and sets severe fines for doing so. The Fugitive Slave Act allows slave-catchers into every U.S. state and territory.
47 to 8
Margin by which the U.S. House of Representatives passes the Fugitive Slave Act. The U.S. Senate also passes the Act, but the vote count is not recorded. Washington makes no known comment on the Act, and signs it into law on February 12, 1793 (probably in his private office in the President's House).
1/5
Fraction of the American population that is of African descent, all of whom are affected by the 1793 Fugitive Slave Act. There is no safe haven for an escaped slave anywhere in the U.S. because of this law, and even free blacks are in danger of being kidnapped and sold into slavery by unscrupulous slave-catchers.
President Washington in Retirement (1797-99)
2
Number of President's House enslaved Africans who return to Mount Vernon with Washington at the end of his presidency: Moll and "Postilion Joe." Christopher Sheels, Richmond, Giles and Paris were returned to Mount Vernon in 1791. Austin died in 1794 enroute from Philadelphia to Mount Vernon. Oney Judge escaped to freedom in May or June 1796 from the President's House, and Hercules escaped in March 1797, reportedly on the night before Washington leaves Philadelphia. [What became of the 9 enslaved Africans? click to see chart]
At least 2
Number of former President's House enslaved Africans who attempt to escape to freedom from Mount Vernon, but are unsuccessful. There are presumed escape attempts by Richmond in November 1796, and by Christopher Sheels in September 1799.
1798
Year in which Washington's nephew, Burnwell Bassett Jr., travels to New Hampshire in an attempt to recapture Oney Judge. Oney is now married to a freeman, Jack Staines, but legally she and their infant daughter are dower slaves (because Oney is enslaved, her marriage is not legally recognized and Jack Staines has no legal relationship to his own child). Oney goes into hiding, foiling Bassett's plan to abduct her. She later has another daughter and a son with Staines, but he and all three children predecease her.
153
Number of dower slaves listed in the 1799 Mount Vernon slave census.
124
Number of "Washington" slaves listed in the 1799 Mount Vernon slave census.
1799
Year in which Washington dies, on December 14. In his will, Washington designates that his enslaved Africans be freed upon his wife's death.
1801
Year in which Washington's enslaved Africans are freed, on January 1. Martha Washington decides not to wait until her death to free her late husband's slaves.
At least 12
Number of marriages between dower and "Washington" slaves. Legal status is traced through the female, so the children of a "Washington" father and a dower mother (such as Hercules and his late wife Alice) are themselves dower slaves, cannot be freed by Washington's will, and remain enslaved for life. Children of a dower father and a "Washington" mother (such as "Postilion Joe" and his wife Sall) are freed by Washington's will. Joe remains enslaved, but Sall and their children are freed, and take the last name Richardson.
1802
Year in which Martha Washington dies, on May 22. In her will, she bequeaths to her grandson George Washington Parke Custis the one enslaved African she owns outright: Elisha. The dower slaves (who had numbered 153 people in 1799) are divided among her four grandchildren (the children of Jacky Custis). Jacky Custis's own enslaved Africans (who had numbered 272 people soon after his 1781 death) are distributed as each of his heirs reaches majority.
1848
Year in which Oney Judge dies, on February 25, in Greenland, New Hampshire. Because of the 1793 Fugitive Slave Act, passed overwhelmingly by Congress and signed into law by Washington at the President's House, Oney Judge spends the last 52 years of her life as a fugitive.

Information courtesy of ushistory.org

O, 'be not weary in well doing

Mon, 23 Mar 2009 10:55:23 GMT

"I see not how you can go through your glorious enterprise in opposing that execrable villainy" (slavery and the slavetrade), "which is the scandal of religion, of England, and of human nature. Unless God has raised you up for this very thing you will be worn out by the opposition of men and devils; but if God be for you who can be against you? Are all of them together stronger than God? O, 'be not weary in well doing.' Go on in the name of God and the power of his might till even American slavery, the vilest that ever saw the sun, shall vanish away before it."
John Wesley to Wilberforce
1791

The House of Bondage, Or Charlotte Brooks and Other Slaves. Contributors: Octavia V. Rogers Albert - author. Publisher: Oxford US. Place of Publication: New York. Publication Year: 1988. Page Number: liii.

On March 21, 2009 I was asked to give a talk at the Oracle Set Book Club's 42nd Annual Book And Author Luncheon at the Washington Navy Yard Conference Center. Organized in 1966, The Oracle Set Book Club is a group of African American women who discuss books and support literacy and accomplishment in Washington, D.C.

We are gathered this afternoon to honor literacy -- and to discuss literature. First I would like to honor Claudette Franklin Ford, in whose name the Oracle Set Book Club has established its scholarship. I�d also like to dedicate my talk to my late parents, James Sheridan Clarke and Edna Payne Clarke. They were life-long Washingtonians and were committed to literacy. My first novel, "River, Cross My Heart" is directly inspired by their recollections of growing up in Georgetown.

One of the great conundrums of our lives is that we can't escape examining our past for clues -- mining our memories and those of our community for some sort of building materials for our future. All the while we are hurtling toward this future. This is the part of writing historical fiction that I enjoy the most.

Today I'd also like to invoke the spirit of an outstanding Washington educator who has inspired me, Dr. Anna Julia Cooper, 1858 - 1964. Anna Julia Cooper received a doctorate in history from the Sorbonne in 1924. She was principal of the nationally notable "M" Street school in the District of Columbia. This school later became Dunbar high school. Dr. Cooper was part of a cadre of outstanding individuals and imminent scholars - educators who lived and worked in the District of Columbia. This group includes the distinguished women, Nannie Helen Burroughs and Mary Macleod Bethune, as well as, Carter G. Woodson and Kelly Miller. There are a great many others I could name. They are the people for whom many of our libraries and schools are named. For this reason, when I am asked why I have set my novels in Washington, D.C. I answer that the District of Columbia is an exciting place to consider the lives of African Americans. Exceptional African Americans and ordinary individuals have made this city their home -- have seen this town as "the city on the hill" -- the place to get to -- for freedom and for opportunity.

We are, of course, very familiar with Dr. Cooper's quote, "Only the Black Woman can say 'when and where I enter, in the quiet, undisputed dignity of my womanhood, without violence and without suing or special patronage, then and there the whole Negro race enters with me.'" (A Voice From The South)

I'm not certain what we understand these words to mean. Though we have eschewed special patronage because we are women -- knowing full well this will be denied us because we are Black women, we have resorted to suing - litigating -- protesting to gain entrance to the mainstream of American culture. As a novelist I am not uncomfortable with ambiguity in the quote. I respond to Dr. Cooper's insistence (despite her characterizing it as "quiet", "dignified") her insistence on a presence, a point of view and a voice.

I don't need to tell you that I felt and continue to feel an unmatched and unmitigated excitement that First Lady, Michelle Obama has entered certain precincts in public - in our political life -- not quietly, Dr. Cooper -- but with undisputed dignity. And she and her husband have brought their daughters -- our young standard bearers -- into the limelight. Allow me to imagine that the women whose names I've previously mentioned and others who would have joined them -- Victoria Earle Matthews, Sojourner Truth, Ida B. Wells-Barnett -- were lining the parade route on this past Inauguration Day, waving their hands and feeling vindication. I'm being fanciful. Fiction writers are allowed to be.

There is another quote of Dr. Anna Julia Cooper's that is also well known. -- that is a great inspiration for me.

"All through the darkest period of the colored woman's oppression in this country her yet unwritten history is full of heroic struggle, a struggle against fearful and overwhelming odds, that often ended in a horrible death, to maintain and protect that which woman holds dearer that life. The painful, patient, and silent toil of mothers to gain a fee simple title to the bodies of their daughters, the despairing fight, as of an entrapped tigress, to keep hallowed their own persons, would furnish material for epics."

---- Anna Julia Cooper, "The Intellectual Progress of the Colored Women of the United States since the Emancipation Proclamation"

If I were to inscribe some quote above my desk, it would be this one. These are my marching orders. The words are inspirational to me because of the way they point to what our circumstances were -- the ownership of our bodies -- the title/and the entitlement. I also have the image of her -- Anna Julia Cooper -- straddling the nineteenth and twentieth centuries -- her accomplishments, her scholarship, her triumph and her scathing honesty in saying these things out plainly in an era of veiled speech by women in public.

And Dr. Cooper, in using the language of the law and the language of real property, asserts her own intellect and her complete embrace of the aims of literacy and the pursuit of education for all of her people.
In the mid-19th century -- the period in which my novel, STAND THE STORM is set the restrictions upon literacy were severe. Punishment was codified.

"If any free negro or mulatto person, living in this town, shall be a subscriber to or receive through the Post Office or any other medium, or shall have in his possession, or circulate any newspaper or other publication, or any written or printed paper or book, of a character calculated to excite insurrection or insubordination among the slaves or colored people, every such free negro or mulatto person shall be deemed and adjudged to be a disorderly person and a dangerous and unsafe citizen, and upon conviction thereof before the mayor or justice of the peace, shall for each and every offense, be fined a sum of money not exceeding twenty dollars, or be committed to the work-house for a period not exceeding thirty days, and the sureties of the offending party or parties, given under the third section of this ordinance shall be immediately required by the mayor to pay the amount of their bond or bonds, and on their failure or refusal to do so, he shall place the same in the hands of the Recorder for suit; and if any black or mulatto person living in the town, being a slave, shall be found offending against the provisions of the fifth section of this ordinance, he, she, or they, upon conviction of before the mayor or a justice of the peace, shall be sentenced or be punished by whipping, not exceeding thirty-nine lashes."
from The Black Codes of the District of Columbia
The responsibilities and the risks of learning to read and obtaining an education were placed entirely on the individual or a parent or mentor who was acting on their behalf. Learning came with obligations to the community. There was the tradition that someone who had acquired reading and writing skills would teach others. African American religious congregations such as Mt. Zion United Methodist Church, provided these early opportunities to learn reading and writing. And organizations formed to teach and promote literacy. I think it is interesting and worth noting that as literacy approaches universal it seems to have become an individual/a solitary pursuit. But book clubs like Oracle Set and others are reversing the trend by offering opportunities to share books and reading.
We -- African Americans and Washingtonians -- have longed for literacy. It has been our one best hope for freedom, inclusion and success. And we have been brutally and systematically excluded from and punished for aspiring to literacy. I'll end with reading a scene from STAND THE STORM that is set late in the novel during the Civil War. I won't identify the characters in much detail -- I'll just read a bit. I'd like you to see them gathered together reading -- before our time of nearly universal literacy -- when reading was a social activity -- when the need to know and understand was worth the risks to acquire it.

Unreliable perceptions and yardsticks

Tue, 17 Mar 2009 11:52:28 GMT

I went back this time with a sense of obligation to take steps toward restoring my exercise routine -- going again. I have been sloughing off going to the pool for a good ten days. I've given myself every excuse, but I have simply felt "out of it." I have been feeling that I am losing momentum and that I have a long road back. Right away when I hit the water, I knew I had once again overestimated my fall off. My body felt more willing -- more capable of performing than I had thought. I was selling myself short. Again it was that I was relying on the idea about appearance -- looking in the mirror and gauging myself by the truly unreliable yardstick: my perception of what other people see.

much better to go with the viscera -- to go with what is known in the gut. I can still swim because the muscles have learned the lesson and because they are not compromised with illness, they have not forgotten the beautiful slice through the water.

Why I Feel Black and Blue

Tue, 03 Mar 2009 10:47:34 GMT

"All through the darkest period of the colored woman's oppression in this country her yet unwritten history is full of heroic struggle, a struggle against fearful and overwhelming odds, that often ended in a horrible death, to maintain and protect that which woman holds dearer than life. The painful, patient, and silent toil of mothers to gain a fee simple title to the bodies of their daughters, the despairing fight, as of an entrapped tigress, to keep hallowed their own persons, would furnish material for epics."
--Anna Julia Cooper, The Intellectual Progress of the Colored Women of the United States since the Emancipation Proclamation

"White families had the unparalleled capacity to control the flow of written information during slavery with their near monopoly on literacy and record keeping. They were committed to and adept at , hiding information about race mixing within their ranks and about their family relationships with black people. As a result, we lack ready prompts to help us visualize what people linked as Hemings and Jefferson were said to one another in times like these. Of course, that is what white slave owners intended -- to make these matters literally unthinkable to posterity, to try to erase the identity of their black relatives in order to protect the reputations of their white families. In this way they hoped to maintain ownership over black people's identities in perpetuity, in the manner of holding a fee, simple absolute in real property -- a thing that could be given up only at the owner's choice."
--pg 164 from THE HEMINGSES OF MONTICELLO by Annette Godon-Reed

On Saturday, February 28, 2009 - a talk at Tudor House, home of Thomas Peter and Martha Custis Peter

Thomas Peter is son of the first mayor of Georgetown

Martha Custis Peter, is grand daughter of Martha Washington

Their home is high on a prospect on 31st St. in Georgetown, Washington, DC

The term slave is a word that defines a group of individual humans with no choice. On a tour of Tudor House I was shocked to hear that Martha Custis Peter inherited title to ninety slaves at her marriage to Thomas Peter. Her husband quickly sold thirty of these "dower" slaves. Sixty slaves joined the household at the time of the nuptials and the other thirty came to the estate on the death of Martha's grandmother, Martha Washington, the wife of our first president. I try to imagine these people -- standing in rows -- ten deep in nine rows. It is said the number is approximately 90, so maybe there is a small boy or girl more or less so that the final number is 91 or 89 or 95 when all is said and counted. A lot of people get shifted around when powerful slave-owning families unite. Maybe you lose the one person you love or need on that day. I dedicate my talk to the better understanding of the lives of these individuals -- as individuals.

My disdain for the slaveholder is unequivocal, but I�m not motivated to demonize Thomas and Martha Peter. Rather I�d like to focus on what we may discover about the lives of the enslaved persons who worked in their home.

You will see when you walk through the estate that it is clear what were the duties of the enslaved persons who served Thomas and Martha Peter at Tudor House. These duties certainly included a wide variety of strenuous, dangerous, monotonous, unpleasant, repetitive, time-consuming and personally unrewarding tasks. These would be the tasks that a wealthy property owner and businessman would assign to those who had no choice but to accede to his or her wishes. It can also be admitted that certain duties would confer a sense of pride and status in accomplishment. The association with a very socially prominent and wealthy family would likely have been some protection against the worse violence to which a slave might fall victim. Slaves who worked within the slave master�s household are generally perceived of as having an easier work life. There are obvious advantages: better shelter, better access to more and better food, access to more and better clothing. Certain disadvantages would be: no relief from duties/lack of privacy within the house, strained relations with other bondpersons/including family members, vulnerability to sexual harassment and subject to the close scrutiny of the master.

What is important is a look at what things an enslaved person could not do in Georgetown in the nineteenth century. In considering the lives of the enslaved and the specifics of their torture, I referred to the District of Columbia�s Black Codes -- ordinances in place to circumscribe and punish the behavior of enslaved Blacks, as well as, free people of color.

excerpt from: The Black Codes of the District of Columbia
(based on laws of the State of Maryland)

Who Shall Be Slaves

All negroes and other slaves, already imported or hereafter to be imported into this province, and all children now born or hereafter to be born of such negroes and slaves, shall be slaves during their natural lives.
--Laws of Maryland, 1715

Where any slave shall be guilty of rambling, riding or going abroad in the night, or riding horses in the day time without leave, or running away, it shall be lawful for the justices of the County Court and they are obliged, upon the application of complaint of the master or owner of such, or to the order of such master or owner or on the application or compliant of any other person who shall be any ways damnified or injured by such slave, immediately such slave to punish by whipping, cropping or branding in the cheek with the letter R or otherwise, not extending to life or to render such slave unfit for labor.
--Laws of Maryland, 1751

Punishment of colored persons for receiving or circulating insurrectionary publications

If any free negro or mulatto person, living in this town, shall be a subscriber to or receive through the Post Office or any other medium , or shall have in his or her possession, or circulate any newspaper or other publication , or any written or printed paper or book, of a character calculated to excite insurrection or insubordination among the slaves or colored people, be a disorderly person and a dangerous and unsafe citizen, and upon conviction thereof before the mayor or justice of the peace, shall for each and every offense, be fined a sum of money not exceeding twenty dollars,or be committed to the work house for a period not exceeding thirty days an the sureties of the offending party or parties given under the third section of this ordinance, shall be immediately required by the mayor to pay the amount of their bond or bonds, and on their failure or refusal to do so, he shall place the same in the hands of the Recorder for suit; and if any black or mulatto person, living in the town, being a slave, shall be found offending against the provisions of the fifth section of this ordinance, he, she or they, upon conviction before the mayor or a justice of the peace, shall be sentenced or be punished by whipping not exceeding thirty nine lashes.

Prohibition of Assemblages of Colored Persons

From this time forth, all assemblages, by day or night of black or colored persons, within the limits of this town, except meetings for religious instruction, conducted by and under the superintendence and control of white men, appointed by either or any of the established churches of the town, and terminated and dispersed at or before the hour of half past nine o'clock p.m. and except such other meetings as shall be specially allowed by the mayor, be and the same are hereby prohibited, and every black or colored person, being a slave or servant for a term o years, that shall hereafter offend against this provision, shall be liable to be punished with any number of stripes not exceeding thirty-nine, or if free, to be committed to the work-house for any number of days, not exceeding thirty, or be fined in a sum not exceeding thirty dollars.
---ordinances of the Corporation of Georgetown, 1845

The account of facts in the life of Barbara, a daughter of one of the �dower� slaves of Martha Peter is of interest in considering the personal life of the enslaved and STAND THE STORM. Barbara is said to have been banished to the Peter family farm in Maryland for slipping off the property to attend dances. Its a nice story. It is scant though. It sounds like a story given to a child, a chaste explanation for something a lot more complex. Clearly there are no good choices for Barbara in this circumstance. She can only go where she is sent to work for the Peter family or she can self-emancipate. Yes, the lessons are clear. If the behavior of enslaved persons does not conform to the exact commands and expectations of their owners, they can be disciplined through separation from family members and familiar/preferred domestic arrangements. Also, a woman�s circumstance may change dramatically if she becomes vulnerable to the attentions of a powerful male. Perhaps Barbara did nothing overt to be shipped out to the farm. Perhaps she merely acceded to her master�s wishes.
Barbara�s daughter, Hannah, becomes the wife of Alfred Pope, a slave. She is sold by the Peters to her husband�s owner. Information in Black Georgetown Remembered by Kathleen Lesko, Valerie Babb, and Carroll R. Gibbs, (Washington: Georgetown University Press, 1991), 23-26 - suggests that Hannah was sold to South Carolina Congressman, John Carter prior to marrying Alfred Pope, who was owned by Carter. Alfred had a few adventures and it would seem that he derived some advantage through his and his wife�s bondage to prominent whites. Freed upon Carter�s death in 1850, the Popes remained in Georgetown -- were successful -- purchased real estate and in 1875, sold to Mt. Zion United Methodist Church the lot upon which their church was built at 1334 29th St. This junction is where my fictional landscape in STAND THE STORM intersects with the world of Tudor House. I�ve chosen Mt. Zion and its congregation as a setting for my fiction because the people and the history support my understanding of the African American community of Georgetown. And Mt. Zion very definitely has documented evidence of involvement in the Underground Railroad, a organization that was antithetical to slave trading and ownership. (see my previous post on the history of Mt. Zion United Methodist Church)
Though they benefitted from association with elites, the Popes were instrumental in the founding of an institution that was subversive of the status quo -- an institution that was very actively subversive of slavery.
The regulations found in the District of Columbia�s black Codes illustrate in some way what the Pope�s faced in choosing to remain living and working in Georgetown after 1850. It�s extremely important to note that the Fugitive Slave Law is passed in 1850. This law changed the lives of self-emancipators and all of those who helped them. It required individuals who had no interest in pursuing slaves to assist a slave owner in pursuit of his or her property.

Back To Bliss

Fri, 20 Feb 2009 21:28:53 GMT

Coming back to the pool after an absence is always exciting -- biissful. I am surprised to feel that I have accomplished more -- that some bits of technique are smoother, more flexible than I remembered. I think my legs were much more active -- stronger and they kicked more and harder. I believe that the Qi Gong exercises have kept the lower back, groin and leg muscles engaged and I am seeing the benefit in my kicking in the pool. I want to continue to build upon it. The difference in sensations is, for me, outstanding. I've never before felt the complete engagement of these muscles and so some movements that I thought were not possible for me to do are possible. I feel a marked increase in stamina and an awareness of what it means to push the muscles -- to pour on the steam. Swimming is so much a head job -- a thinker's sport. My mind is alive and lively when I am stroking a lap. Perhaps I think too much -- not just stroking and letting myself swim. Rather sometimes I am making myself swim -- trying to push myself -- force myself to swim well. Yet swimming is best when I'm able to swim unconsciously. Though thinking while swimming is blissful.

My birthday
to celebrate the day -- or to honor it -- with my buds at the pool. Is this any way to celebrate a birthday? I asked Gerri to make a video of me in the water swimming. I saw my biggest swimming flaws immediately. My legs are still not productive. They are doing the kick wrong. They are opening and closing -- scissoring. I don't look as svelte as I feel. If the camera adds thickness then the mind cuts some away. The body that glides feels smooth and easily slimmer. I feel vastly different in the abdominal section, but I need to work on my kick. My muscles are working much harder and there is more vigor in my legs. But . . . I think my legs look like logs. I gained insight by watching the video. I instantly knew what was wrong and I immediately thought of an approach to correcting it. As disappointed as I was with the pictures of my swimming, I was pleased with my own determination to improve. And the improvement will be measurable. I'll be able to see how far I've come.

African American History 2009

Sun, 18 Jan 2009 22:09:18 GMT

Here is A History of MT. ZION UNITED METHODIST CHURCH, the oldest African American church in Washington, D.C.

By Pauline A. Gaskins Mitchell, a local historian

Mt. Zion United Methodist Church, presently located at 1334 29th Street, N.W., Washington, D.C., has been for the past 180 years an integral and viable part of Georgetown and has served the religious, educational and social needs of a significant portion of the Washington community.

The roots of the church can be traced back further than the first group of organized black Methodists in Georgetown in 1816. For over a decade before, those who eventually composed the Mt. Zion congregation had been a part of the Montgomery Street Church founded in 1772 and known today as the Dumbarton Avenue United Methodist Church, located on Dumbarton Avenue near Wisconsin Avenue, N.W. in Georgetown.

In the early 1800's Georgetown was a major port for the slave and tobacco trade in the area and a center for mills and markets for the newly created city of Washington. Its population was one-third black - half freedmen and half slaves. Some of them attended the Montgomery Street Church. Between 1801 and 1810 their numbers fluctuated between 37 and 97. At times nearly 50% of the membership consisted of their "coloured brethren." After 1810 the number increased rapidly.

Dissatisfied because they were segregated within the white church, about 123 blacks attending the Montgomery Street Church met on June 3, 1814, to consider forming a separate congregation under the supervision of the parent church. Among the leaders were Lucy Neal, Polly Hill, William Crusor, William Trumwell, Shadrack Nugent, Thomas Mason and Tamar Green.

On October 1, 1816, the dissidents purchased a lot on Mill Street (now 27th) near West Street (now P Street) from Henry Foxall, a white foundry owner and officer of the Montgomery Street Church. There they built a church known as "The Meeting House and "The Little Ark." White ministers from the Montgomery Street Church served as its pastors for many years.

The following 64 years brought several major changes to the black congregation. On the suggestion of the Reverend Stephen G. Roszei, an outspoken anti-slavery leader and a pastor of the mother church, the name of the new church was changed in 1844 to Mt. Zion Methodist Episcopal Church. At that time there were 54 members. Dissension over the need for black leadership resulted in a split in the congregation in 1849 and the formation of three African Methodist Churches: Ebenezer, Union Wesley and John Wesley. Fifteen years later, Mt. Zion welcomed its black minister, the Reverend John H. Brice. Tragedy struck on July 13, 1880, when the church burned to the ground after which the congregation met temporarily in the Good Samaritan Hall, located in what is now the 1500 block of 26th Street, N.W.

Prior to the fire, the congregation had purchased for $2,581.00 on July 13, 1875, a lot from Alfred Pope, a black businessman of Georgetown and a trustee of the church. Construction of the new edifice was begun on the present site. Much of the workmanship was done by black artisans, including one of the pastors, the Reverend Alexander Dennis and his associate, the Reverend Edgar Murphy.

The cornerstone was laid July 13, 1876, and re-laid May 10, 1880. On October 31, 1880, the first service was held in the partially completed lecture room. The church was dedicated on July 8, 1884.

Some of the descendants of the building committee - John Grey, Henry Bowles, Barton Fisher, James Ferguson, Daniel Brown and Peter Vessels are the members of the church today.

Since no public funds were expended for the education of black people in the city of Washington until 1862, Mt. Zion became an educational center for the black population. Its first Sabbath School, organized in 1823, had a large enrollment, and its effect in promoting educational progress of the black citizens of Georgetown was considered invaluable. Adult members, as well as children, came to learn how to read. From 1840 through the Reconstruction Era, several schools sponsored by black men and the Pennsylvania Freedmen's Relief Association were housed in the church.

The records indicate that until slavery was abolished Mt. Zion served as one of the stations in the Underground Railroad, and the vault in the nearby Old Methodist Burying Ground was used as a hideout for runaway slaves until their passage North could be arranged.

Extension and improvement of the physical plant included the construction of a new parsonage at 2902 0 Street, N.W. (completed in 1897), the purchase in 1920 of the property next door used for many years as a community house, and several renovations of the church and parsonage.

Mt. Zion realized that it needed a burying ground for its members. "For a sum of one dollar in hand." the church leased for 99 years the unoccupied east end of the Dumbarton Church Cemetery located on Mill Road (behind the 2600 block of Q Street, N. W.) in 1879. On this site were buried a Part of Dumbarton's congregation, slaves of other Washington areas. The west end was purchased by the Female Union Band Society, organized in 1842, for the burial of free blacks. Through the years, the two cemeteries have been considered jointly as the Mt. Zion Cemetery. In 1950, interments ceased.

An exhaustive historical study of the Mt. Zion section of the cemetery and the burials there was done by the Afro-American Bicentennial Corporation. In 1975, the cemetery became an Historical Landmark of the National Capital and on August 6, 1975, was placed on the national Register of Historical Places.

The restoration of the cemetery as a fitting memorial to black presence in Georgetown is underway. Dumbarton Church as the owner and Mt. Zion as the primary user have been joined in support by the Society for the Preservation of Historic Georgetown. Community churches, also, are cooperating in this effort.

The Mount Zion United Community House, erected 1811 and believed to be the only remaining English style cottage in the District of Columbia, was restored and returned to community use in 1985 to help recapture the history and presence of the Black community in the Historic District of Georgetown.

The Community House was restored with private funds, grants from the United Methodist Church, and a historic preservation matching grant from the District of Columbia. Bryant and Bryant AIA, Architects and Planners, conducted the architectural studies, and Georgetown Building Company was the general contractor. Because it has contributed significantly to the visual beauty and cultural heritage of the District of Columbia, Mt. Zion United Methodist Church was designated in June 1974, in Category II of the Inventory of Historical! Landmarks of the District of Columbia. It was also placed on the National Register of Historical Places on July 21, 1975.

Mt. Zion is a church of families, many of which date back to its inception. Only a few still reside in Georgetown; most scattered throughout the city and suburbs. They are proud of and grateful to their ancestors for founding and sustaining the church, and they have a strong desire to maintain the continuity of the black Methodist Church in the District of Columbia and the oldest congregation in this city.

by Pauline A. Gaskins Mitchell,
Historian

more info on Mt. Zion at: http://www.culturaltourismdc.org/info-url_nocat2536/info-url_nocat_show.htm?doc_id=44050&area=2541

for information on Mt. Zion/Female Union Band Cemetery:
http://www.nps.gov/history/NR/travel/wash/dc10.htm

Home Delivery of the Washington Post

Sat, 03 Jan 2009 13:13:16 GMT

It broke my heart to call up and tell them to stop sending the paper. I remember answering the door and paying the paper boy -- who became an adult -- who became someone we never saw anymore. The young woman asked me why we were discontinuing and I told her more than she had asked to know. She was very polite. I told her my parents had paid for and received and occasionally called up to say it had not come and, in fact, had been proud and had enjoyed home delivery of the Washington Post for over fifty years. This was truly a regrettable change. I wouldn't have done it if not for security. The paper on the porch is like the water being on, the lights being available at a flick, the stove working and the plumbing alive. My parents never dropped the ball in all the years I can remember. Times must sometimes have been tough for them. But they paid the bills, drove the car, had home delivery of the newspaper. It is part of the smooth running of the home - of their lives -- the morning paper. Sorry -- changed circumstance. So now the paper has to be discontinued because my father has moved and we do not want the world to know the house is without him. This is a bow to the feeling that this neighborhood is more predatory than it used to be. When we grew up there was home delivery of three newspapers, then two then just the Post. My parents proudly subscribed to all of them and read them. My mother was keenly interested in crossword puzzles -- had done them from childhood. My mother wrote letters to the editor and had one published once. She would have been pleased with her obit in the Post. The home delivery of the papers was a part of our middle class status. You were stable, you were solid, you had a phone number and home delivered newspapers. You wanted the best for your children so you got the newspapers so that the world at large was always at hand. Very seldom did papers have to be taken in from the porch by neighbors because my parents rarely went away from home. But the neighbors gladly performed this lookout function because my folks were so steady, reliable, neighborly. It is now too much to ask. Discontinuing home delivery of the Washington Post at my father's home address was a sad decision. It might seem a small thing to be upset about after the big, at times gut-wrenching, decisions and adjustments that have been made in the last eight weeks as my 96 year old father's health changed. His world has altered dramatically and he is no longer living at the old home my sisters and I grew up in. My father held it together remarkably in that familiar neighborhood and, with the help of neighbors of fifty plus years, he maintained an independent, family -centered lifestyle. The Washington Post -- notably the sports section -- was part of it. In fact, the newspaper delivery was a mainstay and a tell. If the paper sat on his porch until mid-morning, then alerts went up and his next door neighbor went to knock on his door and see what was happening. One morning he had uncharacteristically forgotten to go get it -- had gone to the basement to do laundry -- and she went over to knock.

Target at 14th St. & Park Road

Sun, 23 Nov 2008 10:41:01 GMT

In Washington, D.C. -- at 14th and Park Road N.W. Target has accomplished something that few would have thought possible. One of the most intractable commercial strips in the city since the riots of 1968 has finally yielded to Target and Best Buy and Appleby's and Starbucks.They have brought a racially, economically and linguistically diverse shopping experience to an area considered blighted for forty years. These blocks had been a bustling strip of commerce serving the African American community before the riots that followed MLK's death. What you need to know in case you are moaning that big box retailers are driving out local charm and creating a tasteless, homogenous urban streetscape is that these big boxes are welcome. I'm no pollster, but everybody I spoke to on the street was happy to see stores return to 14th & Park Road. And mature African Americans like me who remember the old 14th & Park Road corridor as a shopping mecca are particularly joyful.

When I grew up in the town in the early sixties, the strip at 14th & Park included Woolworth's, G.C. Murphy's, Peoples' Drugs, shoe stores and Hot Shoppes. There was a very busy newsstand that posted the daily "figures" near the cash register. Oldtimers will know what this is and others can guess. There was promenading in Halloween costumes for youngsters. Salvation Army folks stood with their kettles in front of the stores at Christmas time. Hats, dresses, dusters, patent leather shoes, cotton gloves, patent leather purses and embroidered handkerchiefs were selected from the stores at Easter time. Men bought carnations there on the Saturday before Mother's Day because it was traditional to celebrate your Mother with a colored carnation buttoniere.

I don't have nostalgia about lost mom and pop stores at this corridor bcause it was never that kind of strip. This was the avenue of tulip sundaes and hot fudge brownie cake and Blue Nile perfume and boxed perfume for youngsters to buy for birthday presents. Do you remember wooden paddles with rubber balls attached by a rubber string? "Bat 'n' balls we called them.

When I left DC and transplanted to New York City, I comforted my homesickness at a Woolworth's lunch counter like the one that had been at 14th & Park Road. I equipped my first hobbies from Woolworth's and its lesser cousin, G.C. Murphy's -- yarn, needles, thread, baby turtles, construction paper, crayons, scissors, glue, and modeling clay and pop beads and glass beads and paint by number sets.

Now at 14th & Park Road you can get your personal pan pizza and a burger or a hot dog and your pricey coffee and your diet coke right along with every other Joan and Joe America. Since everybody is more than happy to get everything they want at a few mega stores, the big boxers have replaced countless regionally identified retailers. Things change.

In the older days there was a distinction between shopping downtown and shopping in the neighborhoods. African Americans had had to wrest the privilege to shop in downtown department stores like Garfinkels, Woodard and Lothrup, Kahn's and Hecht's. Even after desegregation there was an idea that there was closer scrutiny downtown. We kids liked the 5&10 cent stores better.

The only artifact from the previous era is the Tivoli Theater's old sign -- seemingly rusted, but still attached to a building that has undergone a sea change since it was built in 1924. The Tivoli was on our family's circuit of neighborhod movie theaters. It was one of those elegant, old lovely places that people went to for the movie experience.

Target and its big box buddies know the power of bright lights and wide aisles and achingly bright red color on everything and food courts and restrooms and someplace to go and sit in public. This is what sells in every neighborhood. I'm glad they have lit up and energized a commercial strip that burned down forty years ago.

96 year old voter makes history

Thu, 23 Oct 2008 11:12:19 GMT

As a lifelong resident of the District of Columbia, James S. Clarke has not been able to attain full voting rights and representation. But he has voted in every election that he has been eligible for --- each Presidential election since 1964. This year he is a proud Obama supporter. He has cast an early, absentee ballot by mail. James S. Clarke served in the army in WWII and worked for thirty-three years for the National Bureau of Standards. He and his wife, Edna Higgins Payne Clarke raised four daughters and one son. With courage and charm he has met every challenge from the racially discriminatory society in which he lived. Happily, he has lived to see change!

A Call To Boomers

Thu, 16 Oct 2008 02:31:56 GMT

Perhaps we now have the opportunity to shrug off racially divisive stereotypes and vote for a man who can create change � much needed � in our national arena. It is a leap of faith for African Americans of a certain mature age to trust that our white neighbors and colleagues will put aside racist manipulation and vote their true consciences on election day. We doubt because we�ve seen past elections use ugly racist �scare� tactics to sway people. In their hearts -- in the sanctity of the voting booth - what are they going to do? Are they going to vote against Barack Obama simply because he is a Black Man? I�m a boomer. Yes, we African Americans boomed, too. My father came home from WWII and he and my mother had kids. We grew up during the Civil Rights Movement. We marched with King figuratively, but we marched to protest Kent State, too. We had the summer of love, the Dupont Circle, the Haight-Ashbury as well as the NAACP and the Black Panthers. We know something about white people. We were college dorm mates and companions for civil rights and workers� rights and women�s rights and we were friends and lovers. We�ve worked together at community meetings and finally in every type of workplace in the private sector and in the government service. And even if we don�t live next door to each other in some parts, we do shop in the same malls and groceries and gas stations. We know each other. We have different histories � are tributaries leading in various directions. But we come together and flow together like our big rivers do. Our interests are similar. Don�t let anyone say differently. Please do not let some somebody who is harkening back to the days of Jim Crow and the Edmund Pettus Bridge derail this election! You know you know better than that. Don�t let the election descend into some kind of bald-faced appeal to racist feelings. I am hopeful this time. I believe in you though you still don�t quite believe in me. You still have the decades of racist iconography to overcome. �We Shall Overcome!� Remember that? Of course you do. We had the sixties and the seventies together � sort of. It was our parents we railed against then not each other. We had the chance to change this country then but we let it slip. We let the old folks run the world while we lived it up. November 4, 2008 is our big chance because we�re the old people now. We boomers need to rise up and go down in those voting booths and carry our kids and grandkids with us. Tell them you want to finish what you started. Tell them you want us all to change things!

Tell them about that

Wed, 08 Oct 2008 19:36:38 GMT

At a book discussion for STAND THE STORM this past weekend a woman praised my characters and asked me if I hear the voices of my characters. She wanted to know if these voices give me the dialogue for the novel. I was immediately defensive and wanted to insist that I do not hear any voices dictating dialogue. I told her that all and every idea for dialogue comes from me -- from what I have created inside myself. I wanted her and everybody to know that I consider myself to be in the dirver's seat when I write my novels. But my process does include back seat drivers. The voices that I do hear are these -- these ones that are nudging, prodding and outright exhorting. I hear from a whole head pantheon -- absent angels( my son, my mother, my aunt, my grandfather, my grandmother), political visionaries and thinkers(too numerous to list), former pets, friends and lovers and the unknown individuals who leave their stuff in second hand stores. These "voices" direct my gaze. I see physical attributes again and again and am convinced that certain things will never disappear. They lead my inquiries down pathways I hadn't planned for and they show me things like cruelty toward the vulnerable that I'd look away from if not goaded by my claque. Yeah -- I got voices. But they leave the final expression to me. They are cheer leaders. They say "You go look at that, girl! You go listen to that, girl! You go tell them about that, girl!"

Congress says to African-Americans: My bad!

Tue, 30 Sep 2008 12:43:12 GMT

Congress says to African-Americans: My bad! My first reaction to news of House Resolution 194 -� the apology for the enslavement and racial segregation of African Americans is that it was too small a measure. The transgression begs for some greater expression of remorse. Reparation is not mentioned. And money is definitely the point because the institution of slavery was at the heart of the American economic system. The years of Jim Crow after emancipation were motivated by economics, too. Limiting the public presence of Blacks prevented economic and social mobility and guaranteed a desperate and dependent work force. So, it is all about� the Benjamins. And it is about the Jeffersons and the Washingtons and the Madisons and others who reaped the profits of the slave system.� Men and women DID profit by the system of bondage that trapped 10-11 million African people.� The other "N" word then is niggardly.� Be careful to get it right --� the word means stingy, miserly, chintzy. That is what I think of the House resolution to apologize for slavery. Is it too little too late? No. It is never too late to say that this was an egregious wrong and that people suffered and that other people profited. We have to know about the history and we have to consider the cost. The apology is a beginning. When will we simply "get over" it?� Welll . . . when it is over. It is not over yet. We are still living with the legacy of our slave past. I wrote this before Lehman Brothers, who began as cotton traders, crashed and burned. We are each other�s business We are each other�s magnitude and bond. Gwendolyn Brooks Oh yes, we are still living out the legacy of this �institution.� It affects our discourse on education, politics, commerce and healthcare.� And now the Dutch people are coming back to celebrate the settlement at New Amsterdam. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/28/nyregion/28dutch.html Twenty males and thirty female slaves were brought to the west side of the Hudson River to what is now called New Jersey at Pavonia, a patroonship awarded by the Dutch West India Company. These people became the first African residents of the area. The settlement and plantation were destroyed in colnflicts with indgenous people. There isn�t a lot of information about these people -- not enough for me. I want to know more -- facts and circumstance. I have read that they were likely Atlantic Creoles captured from a Spanish ship. I�d like to know about them and, for me, the demand for facts and cricumstances is what motivates me to keep dragging the wide pool of knowledge for bits and pieces of the history of African people in the Americas. �From the earliest years, blacks were core laborers in the struggling colony.� ---- Root & Branch: African Americans in New York & East Jersey, 1613 - 1863 by Graham Russell Hodges In all the celebrating of Henry Hudson and the Dutch traders and settlers, don�t forget the �others.� that they brought to the fest involuntarily. The next step away from our country�s slavery legacy is the opportunity to vote for Barack Obama for President. It is our duty -- People of all colors - to reject all these hundreds of years of racist iconography and denigrating imagery and see an individual who will lead us to the future. There will be no room in front of me on election day. You�ll have to FOLLOW ME TO THE POLLS!

The Women

Sun, 21 Sep 2008 12:20:10 GMT

Once again- as always - same old same old -- the opinions of Black women are reckoned as less meaningful in public discourse. Sarah Palin and others of her ilk are constructing a self-serving, loony picture of womanhood that does not include most African-Americans. BTW -- according to my informal census of friends and acquaintances, white women don't feel like she's their spokesperson either. The Republicans are trying to serve up this passive/aggressive, pop-culture, quirky Alaska "melodramaqueen" up in the public sphere as representing womanhood -- true womanhood. Hah! Not so fast! I've got my hopes pinned on a couple of other women in this race -- of this race. I have my hopes pinned on Michelle Obama and her daughters. I'm not reluctant to say that I want Barack and Michelle in the White House.

. . . and the Obama daughters, Malia and Natasha. These women are my standard bearers because they're the ones for whom their parents and I and all other responsible, compassionate citizens must decide the world we bring to them. As their parents do, I want for them what Martin Luther King wanted for his own children and for all of the American children: equal opportunity for all/equal access for all/participation(economically and politically) for all - . . .
freedom and justice for all.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning:

My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.

Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride,

From every mountainside, let freedom ring!

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.

My sisters -- one older, one younger -- were a couple of years older than the Obama girls when Martin Luther King gave his great "I Have A Dream" speech. Details of the day are still brilliantly clear to me. My parents went to the march and took my sister - who was sixteen. There had been talk that violence might break out. Black people feared that mobs of whites might descend on the mall. That was back in the days when there was a pervasive "fear of crackers" in our town and surely in the towns more geographically southern than ours. We had seen plenty of that on TV and elsewhere -- snarling, clubbing, water hoses, rock throwing. This is why I sometimes chuckle to hear whites speak of fear in black neighborhoods. It is not that fear is funny, but that the perception of fear is mutable.

On that august day my younger sister and I stayed at home with my great aunt Hannah. Aunt Hannah rarely cooked, but that day it was decided we would make a blackberry cobbler while the others were at the march. I can only imagine she was nervous and thought we needed an occupation for the day. The TV was on. The march coverage was on and we walked back and forth from the kitchen to the living room to see. I think the cobbler was in the oven when came time for MLK to speak. His speech was what we were waiting for. Aunt Hannah sat on her accustomed corner of the sofa/couch. Her posture was reverential. She never went to church, but the way she leaned forward toward her own knees and toward the TV appeared like kneeling at a pew. Well he spoke. We have all heard him again and again -- at least once a year since. That day I remember being suffused with the feeling that change would come the very next day. I wasn't stupid -- just young and hopeful. I couldn't imagine a circumstance that people listening to those words would not want to drop all hostility and prejudice and discriminatory feelings and join MLK to build this new, wonderful America. It all seemed so simple.

A lot of water under the bridge since that day and still we have to long for -- dream of the day. But I saw the beautiful, hopeful demeanor of the Obama girls, Malia and Natasha when their father accepted the Democratic nomination for president and we all invoked MLK and the dream. My chest felt on fire with that naive hope that our country can get better -- more just -- so that these young girls can live out MLK's sweet dream for us and them. THESE ARE THE WOMEN I WILL PIN MY HOPES TO.

I intend to vote and take as many folks with me as I can to carry Barack and Michelle Obama and their daughters into the White House!

Some may never see these young women as the embodiment of hope as I do -- as their parents do. I was an embodiment for my parents -- a vessel -- a place to put their aspirations for the future. My sisters and I were some of the children MLK spoke about and to on that day. My sisters and I did go through doors that had been closed to my parents directly in consequence of the courage of Martin Luther King and Fannie Lou Hamer and Bayard Rustin and John Lewis and Ella Baker and oh so many others. I remember hope palpable following MLK's speech though years hence I learned that many people who came to Washington to march -- arriving on buses and trains -- returned to segregated towns in the south and no longer had jobs or homes. Dreams also went sour that day. I also remember the horror of the fate of four young girls: Carole Denise McNair, 11 yrs, old, Addie Mae Collins, 14yrs., Cynthia Wesley, 14 yrs., and Carole Robertson, 14 yrs. old. Hopes were pinned to these carefully raised, baptized and educated young girls who were blown to bits in the basement of a church in Birmingham, Alabama on September 15, 1963. What has always sickened me is that this bombing happened after MLK's speech. Persons of possibilities we will never know about were lost that day -- in that church basement. Who would have dreamed such a terrible event!
On the shoulders of the Obama daughters I am pinning my current hopes. These women are the ones I identify with. These are my standard bearers. These daughters will carry me to the polls. I have a stubborn, tenacious responsibility to live out MLK's dream because he spoke for me and to me 45 years ago.

the importance of being earnestly

Sat, 12 Jul 2008 09:51:56 GMT

applied to one's fitness routine. It is often difficult to get to the pool -- to allow the time that it takes to get there and swim and get away after a shower, etc. The past days have been very full and I have been loath to give up the juicy mid-morning hours. I have kept up with Qi Gong and have felt and seen the benefit of it. My back has become very much more developed. I hadn't concerned myself with back conditions except the dreaded muffin top or as I call it, "fat back." But as I have practiced Qi Gong I have seen the muscles in my lower and mid-back become more active and noticeably more taut. I can feel the difference in my posture which is more upright and aligned much better than previously. Again -- surprise -- I didn't realize what the best alignment for me felt like. Now that I have a sense of it I can achieve it and feel more natural doing it. Of course, my legs are far more active and productive in the water -- and in jogging on land -- because they have help from the back.
"
I do a few personally modified Qi Gong moves and add a few personal moves and stretches each morning before going out with the dog -- for her constitutional. I often feel warmth and excitement radiating from my lower back muscles after I've warmed them up. I feel zippy and energetic and can match the dog's enthusiasm for movement. We have a mutually beneficial exercise session. Often we jog and power walk. We also work leash training by draping the six foot leash across my chest and over my shoulder and practice her walking close to me and keeping stride and not letting the leash fall. I must keep a perfectly relaxed though upright form also or the leash will fall. It is a good exercise for both of us. This reinforces my achieving a relaxed, upright posture and stride when I walk. For the dog, it reinforces her understanding of proper walking/leash form: head up (no trolling for garbage), close to the knee (no pulling ahead or lagging behind), matching the proper pace. She feels no tug from my hand though I can easily and quickly correct and control by bringing my hands into my chest. Rather than hand and arm control -- my proactive/aggressive/correcting and very necessary physical authority -- we are cultivating a sensitivity to our bodily movements and it bonds us as a pair who are most happy and secure when we are in sync and moving and reacting together. After years of walking with dogs I have learned a few things. A walk "abroad" with a dog can be such a delightful experience that I wish more people paid attention. Cell phones on dog walks! Arrgh! A promenade with Bonzo, or Max or Bonzilla or PomPom can be the most meditative and mind-cleansing time of day if you pay attention to the dog and what the dog notices: disgusting bits of trash (difficult, but sometimes necessary because it benefits to know what people are doing in your public park) bird activity ( often I see blue jays, male and female cardinals, robins, geese and sea gulls daily fly diagonally over head of us heading approximately north by north east up the Hudson or out to sea), squirrel activity (disgusting and too numerous and big-time diners on garbage), tree activity(seasonal harbingers/storytellers -- giving you the 411 on the ecology and helping you mitigate the effects of the sun and the rain and adding a lot of oxygen especially noticeable in the morning. Every dog I've ever known has loved to stand beside a tree and smell the ground and the air and take in the whole range of aroma and they seem to turn their faces on us and wonder why we are not as excited as they are and I always answer my dog that I am busy "looking" at things to get my 411 and she seems to respond by perking her ears and indicating that she is "hearing" for the both of us and is taking care of security and I acknowledge this with a nod and assure her that I am "watching out" -- am paying attention rather than yaking on the phone. So, non verbal signals are vital on a dog walk and they are excellent exercise for the mind and the attention span. Twenty minutes or so of vermin and birds and air and trees and ants and dog crapatola which you picked up and disposed of (decide on the number and size of your canine pet based on the size of crap-burgers you are willing to pick up and dispose of - if you can't pick up for a Rottweiller don't get a Rottweiller) and squirrels and squirrely people is a proper constitutional -- especially if you will spend the rest of the day "plugged in."
a previously unknown to me flower -- Torenia Purple Moon - with what seems like a wishbone at its center. It is a hearty, pretty small plant with abundant dark purple blooms and a nice find for my garden this year.
if you doubt that bees play a serious pollenating role you should have seen a lusty looking, very round bee I saw going deep inside one of my Torenia blooms and then backing out and flying away and I hoped he(is it both genders that perform this function? -- is the female doing other bee stuff?) was going nearby to spread some Torenia pollen around because they are cute little flowers. Maybe they will take up around the neighborhood.

of many minds

Thu, 10 Apr 2008 10:41:01 GMT

I was struck in the middle of the afternoon on a day that was not a "swimming" day by an unbelievable urge to be in the water. The feeling came over me while day dreaming. I could feel all of the delightful aspets of plunging in and straightening fully horizontal and appreciating the blissful, relaxing movements. My anticipation of a pool day is keen. The ultimate luxury would be a pool in the basement. Would I become so used to a pool in the basement that I would become blase about swimming? I don't think so. In that respect swimming is like sex. It never loses its ability to excite because the physcial movements are, by themselves, provocative of excitement.trust not to drown -- trust that the body will right itself and come to the surface -- trust that the breath will last. know that a relaxed inhale and exhale will calm and control panic and save the breath and use it effectively. the lesson that my body is teaching itself -- is that I am capable of breathing deeply and effectively and that I can keep it even and move evenly and rythmically. On land the panic sets in as a feeling of fatigue and a sort of alarm bell sounds within that calls out for me to pull up and recover a pace that doesn't challenge my breathing. I am working to interpret the alarm bell differently. I am trying to respond by deepening and slowing my respiration. I am working to fill myself with the healthy wind that I pull into my lungs -- expanding them throughout my abdominal and chest and back cavities. I feel the exhileration of sailing farther and faster on a big, windy exhale -- I lift and my legs eat up the ground or propel me through the water.

boo boo blue won't last long

Tue, 01 Apr 2008 20:01:49 GMT

always getting back -- always wonderful for absence makes the muscles fonder and firmer and stronger in the water.

I wore a new swim suit today and it was/is a nice shade of blue. It won't last long at this deep, rich color. The chlorine will make it pale and threadbare after a time.

Reflecting on the last two cars I've chosen to drive -- in fact, all four of the automobies that I've chosen for myself: soft, rounded rears -- the whole backside. Seeing my two most recent cars parked together on the street I realized that my criteria for chosing an automobile bears some relation to my idea about how I want to look going away. I favor a gentle, rounded, full-figured rear area with graceful curves. No sharp lines/no angles/no sleek has ever really appealed to me. This must be how I want to imagine I look from behind: not sloppy, but not narrow -- full and round -- a slightly bouncy and dancing caboose hitched to a graceful, heroic frame with . . . a spark of get up.

a convergence

Sun, 30 Mar 2008 10:23:43 GMT

And then the lift and loft and glide and sail of forward momentum and the feeling of having your legs "under you" and working with purpose.

The thing that has happened -- a mental breaththrough has occurred: I have discovered that controlling the pace of my breathing while jogging will help me to control the panic response of rapid and shallow breathing when I feel myself tiring and/or being challenged on the run. The shallow breathing brings on fatigue and fear. I have finally learned to recognize this feeling as it comes and not react with panic. I have the techniques to breathe consciously and deeply and experience the exhilerating lift of inhaling and exhaling. I can give myself the nourishment of oxygen rather than gasping for air with desperation. The elements converge: the increase in stamina and flexibility and the accomplishment of deep, rythmic breathing and having learned to fully expel air with use of the abdominals and keep the pace of breathing steady as the pace of movement varies/iincreases. As a result of this process I am no longer afraid to test myself at running or swimming because good breathing can be maintained.

workout companion

Sun, 23 Mar 2008 20:59:29 GMT

This morning I think I have learned/taught myself finally to jog. I have felt it coming -- growing.becoming more possible as my strength and stamina have grown. This morning I was well warm with my own prelim exercises. I had had several good, long, breaths. Persia and I acquired a good rythmn on our walk downhill on Madison St. at the bottom of the hill, her momentum carried her forward of me and instead of pulling her back I decided -- it was a mental "turn on key" to run/jog to keep pace with her. I had the advantage when we rounded the corner and headed uphill on 7th street. We kept up a steady jog. I was breathing evenly and deeply and rising with the breath and moving forward and not sinking onto my knees. It was exhilerating to feel my body and know that this is something that my mind and my muscles have learned. I slowed to a fast walk at the corner of Missouri Ave. and slowed still further to stop the dog at the crossing -- we then went to the park for her constitutional. We are building a nice jog workout.

Qi Gong -- should be recommended to others who want to increase the strength and vitality of swimming. It empahizes all of the muscle movement ideas that are part of swimming: deep, therapeutic breathing and increased stamina and bi-lateral strength and flexilbilty and involvement of all relevant muscles and relaxation. Many of the movements are imitative of movements done in water -- a lovely way to swim on land. Wow!

suit coat

Sat, 15 Mar 2008 14:59:27 GMT

Thursday in the pool was magnificent. I was fully warm when I got to the water. I had done Qi Gong before my daily dog walk. We had a lively walk. When I hit the water I swam with great energy and vigor - cutting through it and reaching forward in a horizontal line to the wall -- riding high and pushing with my newly energized legs.

Bye, bye, beloved blue car

Sat, 15 Mar 2008 11:13:34 GMT

Adieu, Billie Gardenia -- The time has come. It is the end of an era. Beloved PT Cruiser has gone to another home. Good people -- chosen carefully.