Remembering Pat ParkerBy Christine Adams Tripp, J.D.
FemmeNoir
A Web Portal For Lesbians Of Color
Remembering Pat ParkerI recently read an article on www.FemmeNoir.net and sent an email asking why there was no mention of Pat Parker. I realized that a lot of young lesbians have never heard of Pat Parker. I dedicate this note to everyone and ask you to remember a trailblazer, a pioneer in the fight for lesbian and gay rights. But most of all, Pat Parker fought a fight with breast cancer. She won her fight because she encouraged a lot of us to get a breast examinations. She won her fight because she gave us strength to die with dignity and courage no matter what, and gave us the resilience to continue the work she started.
A.D. Odom
I grew up on the South Side of Chicago in a middle class community of working class Black folk. Early on, I knew I was different but I lacked the vocabulary to know how I was different, I just knew. I could not share the enthusiasm or the preoccupation with boys with my female friends. My history taught me boys were not nice. I heard the stories of how my grandfather beat my grandmother, I saw my father beat my mother, I was abused by a male relative, and I experienced the fright of being thrown to a hardwood floor as if I were anything but human by two boys who sought to rape me, I endured both physical and verbal confrontations with boys and men who thought I should have been interested in them. I experienced all of this before I was 13 years of age.
The
Women GatherA.D. Odom
In this poem by Nikki Giovanni, women gather because “it is not unusual for them to seek comfort in our hours of stress.” This month on FemmeNoir, the women gather to honor women who have passed through our lives and have since passed away and we gather 'round to sit at the feet of those women who are survivors of cancer. We gather to give that which we all hope to receive - respect and honor - let not one word go unheard and let not one lesson be taken for granted.
Since I do Not Dare . . .A.D. Odom
As a child, my mother would take both my brother and I to the library. We would walk, from 65th and Stoney Island to the Woodlawn Public Library under the El tracks. I always thought this a strange location for a library – near a noisy CTA train station. Amazingly, I never noticed the clank of the trains passing, only the quiet of the space itself and the smell of the books. I loved the library.
StasisA.D. Odom
Nothing came easy. I was just born with a need to explore every toolshop of my mind, and with long searching and hard work. – Gordon Parks
Back in the day, my mother bought my brother and I, each, a portable record player. I can still see the thing: a large monolithic device constructed of black plastic with two white removable plastic speakers hanging off either side. The turntable folded down and it had a handle on top for portability. It was not audiophile equipment, but it did the trick. The first 45 rpm record I happily purchased with my allowance was the Temptations “Cloud Nine.”
An Ideal Partner -- Does Such A Person Exist?A.D. Odom
It is not that I am shying away from love or mulling over some hurt feelings from loves’ past; no, in actuality, as I look out over the landscape of perception many women are now living out their lives as life imitating art. What many women state they want in or from a partner is material, a certain look, a particular complexion, a specific size or height, and in some cases, a certain level of education, all or any of the above or more are representative of suitable prerequisites to love.
The Greatest of These
is LoveA.D. Odom
First Love
In the neighborhoods where I lived, on the South Side of Chicago, women loving women were never referred to as lesbians, dykes or homosexuals, they were called “boyish,” “mannish,” “tomboys,” and “bulldaggers” – or in the South where I spent many summers, “bulldaggas.”
In The SpiritA.D. Odom
I have been on quite a journey these past few months. I have journeyed to my past, to my soul, to the present, to the future and, through my mind. Finally, I came to a quiet peace as spirit quieted my soul and let me know I will be okay, no matter what, I will be okay – and so it is.
To paraphrase a quote from Mark Twain, I’ve been through a lot in my life; some things have actually happened. A few weeks ago I found a rather large lump in my breast. Looking back at that particular moment in time, and with a little amusement, I can see how I went from living to dying in all of 2.5 seconds. Within hours after finding the lump, I was already contemplating the actions I would take: I would have both breasts removed, I would decline chemo and radiation treatments but, I would be interested in alternatives to Tamoxifin. Within days, I was imagining myself bald-headed and without breasts. Within one week’s time, I was in Kaiser’s Urgent Care demanding to see someone about the lump. Within two week’s time I had my first mammogram and was now insisting I be seen immediately by a doctor or surgeon. In a nutshell, I became a ranting, raving, hysterical maniac.
You
Were LovedA. D. Odom
On June 18, 1989, I had a spiritual experience that changed my life forever; I experienced the voice of God. It happened on a night I asked God for help in my life and in business. I asked for direction and guidance and vowed I would stay up all night, just as Jesus did in the Garden of Gethsemane until the answer came. (Little did I know, I would practice a similar all-nighter for Christine and hear her words imploring me to “stay awake.”)
You Are Not AloneA.D. Odom
If I have not removed the sack cloth or washed the ashes from my face, I know this will happen soon. I can feel the release. It is hard when you lose your best and only friend. The pain of such a loss is felt even more strongly when you’ve watched that friend leave you. The moment you watch a dear friend’s spiritual departure brings you closer in awareness to the precious gift of life and the finality of death. I understood, in that moment, the magnitude of the physical in both birth and death. In this past month of mourning, I have experienced there truly is no such thing as death. Sans the shedding of the physical body, the soul lives on forever.
This Life I LiveA.D. Odom
Eros, Pathos – A Final
FarewellA.D. Odom
A very good friend of mine called me one afternoon and during the course of our conversation, she asked me if I felt I could love or be involved with anyone else. My answer was quick, I said no. There was a long pause as she was obviously pondering whether to ask me why or make a statement. Finally, she said “you’ll rethink that soon enough.” Teresa (or “T”), lives thousands of miles away from me and we’ve been friends, albeit long distance, for a little more than 15 years. Teresa and I worked together when I lived in Chicago and I guess, after meeting her, I assumed she was straight. I didn’t find out otherwise until after moving to Los Angeles and in 1993, I was telling her about another friend of mine who was dying from cancer at that time, Mary Jo Froehle. While telling “T” I was beginning to realize this older, White (German) woman who I had been hanging out with all this time was a lesbian, she paused and said “let me ask you a question, do you know I’m gay?” I was stunned. Here I was, rethinking my lesbian life and my two best friends had just revealed they were lesbians and both have or had very active spiritual lives in their respective churches. What a bombshell. Needless to say, my friend “T” understands my naivety about certain things and is a very kind and understanding friend.
What I Have LearnedA.D. Odom
I have learned this past year that what someone says or believes in life will not necessarily be what they believe in death. I’ve learned they will do whatever it takes to get through to you to right the wrongs.
I have learned this past year, that what appeared to be Christine’s fear of death or dying was actually not that at all. Dying was of no concern to her, what she feared most was losing a newly realized love. I was angry with her for not providing me with what I needed from her all these years – her talking to me. But, for Christine, granting me this final wish meant accepting she would lose someone she finally realized actually loved her. She wanted to live for me.
Walking The
Labyrinth Of LifeA.D. Odom
Back in the late 80’s when this Type A personality run amok crashed and burned in the dessert of despair; I, then the agnostic/atheist, turned to God and asked a simple question: Why? Why were my legs taken from me? What happened to my Midas touch? Why? Asking God questions such as these brings to bear an almost certain scourging of the soul. What I did not realize prior to asking was the depths of despair I would eventually reach before rising again, more aware and more conscious than I’d ever been. The phrase “be careful what you ask” is poignant and lies very close to my heart. It hastens me to contemplate carefully the questions I ask and to equally accept the consequences that may be brought to bear.
Our StoryA.D. Odom
This month, we celebrated both Dr. Martin Luther King’s actual birth date and a national holiday in his honor. I must say my life, since I was 9-years old (going on 40), has been lived trying to realize the dream of not being acknowledged by the color of my skin, but by the content of my character. Excellence, in my book and as the kids would say; RULES! I have long contemplated and have never forgotten Dr. King’s final speech on April 3, 1968, when he spoke about Pharoah:
By Akilah Monifa
(Reprinted with permission of author)
In 1999 Gay and Lesbian Alliance
Against Defamation (GLAAD) awarded Whoopi Goldberg the Vanguard
Award honoring her work in films such as "The Color Purple" and
"Boys on the Side." The presenters said that Whoopi helped " . .
. educate millions about the experiences of African American
lesbians." Now I'm not knocking Whoopi, quite the contrary, I
have a great deal of admiration for her. I just think that it is
a sad state of affairs when the basis of educating folks of the
experience of lesbian sistahs comes from movies especially one
that was released in the 80s and the other one where Goldberg's
character was lesbian in theory only.
Choose Your Label
A. D. Odom
I am an avid hiker. I love nature and am often astounded by both its mystery and its beauty. For instance, on many walks through the forest, I am often amazed at how trees, after being ravaged by fire, can still develop tender green stems, which evolve into hard strong branches and, once again, the tree begins to take its place amongst the others in the forest. Its strong root system is what allows this to happen. If the roots are not horribly damaged, the tree can take form once more. It has been these little walks through the forest that has caused me to sit as a humble student in its midst, often on the forest floor, to engage in conversation with its splendor.
AwakeningSummer has come to a close and we look forward now towards fall. For me, fall represents a time for new beginnings when old ideas and thoughts fall away, leading to winter’s contemplative moods and spring’s rebirth. The seasonal changes will be particularly important this year as a result of a task I assigned myself this past July/August. The task was to do whatever I wished, however great or small, and do it without question. My intentions were to follow that small voice inside that often asked I go here or there. I had been ignoring the voice for some time because my heart ached and I had no interest in doing something exciting or would cause me to think or feel anything sans my loss and feelings of despair.
Marching
Towards Freedom & EqualityMy mother said I was her most precocious child. Looking back over my life I’ve come to realize I really was. Unfortunately, I took much of my life, or the activities of my life, for granted without realizing I truly was a precocious little girl. Martin Luther King’s speech the evening of April 3, 1968 had an affect on me and his death the next day propelled me into becoming a young activist, at the age of 10. I don’t remember or know many 10-year olds who lifted signs in protest of the war in Vietnam or wrote poems of Black protest about the acts or injustices perpetrated by the police and others against, not just Black folks, but people of color.
Peace
Be StillI recently finished a few books I’ve been reading simultaneously; one is Gordon Parks’ “Voices in the Mirror,” the other is a book about the life of James VanDerZee. I am also currently reading a book by Alexis DeVeaux on Audre Lorde entitled “Warrior Poet.” In all of these books I’ve read about racial prejudices, how people felt righteous in their treatment of Blacks, and the numerous, inhumane and almost unspeakable crimes committed against Black people pre-1960, through the turbulent 60s, right up to the present day. I also read something else that was not so pretty, Black folks' own prejudices against other Black folks – light vs. dark, and dark vs. light, and those Blacks who immigrated to this country vs. those who were born here. You would think we had enough to worry with from racial prejudices by those outside of our race.
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