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2 We’re Back! OCTOBER 1996 MBC Wolverine OBSERVER
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places. No wonder our
Southern symbols cause
equivocation in some of us
and fury and defiance in
others. Forget hell, we have
not even yet learned how to
understand much less
remember with clarity. The
Southern history, racially, has
been one of sibling rivalry.
The whiter brother clings to
the illusion of a birthright
even though the estate was
wiped out by Sherman, so
many years ago.
The rivalry of power is an
issue bequeathed by our
grandfathers and more
subtly our grandmothers. It
is less exoterically, a question
of exclusivity and sanction.
The rivalry and the flag are
worn out “old south and the
issues which link the white
brother symbolically to a
lineage of feudalism”. That
linkage should be a historical
footnote, functional only for
defining our progress
towards a better human
environment.
Instead it imprisons many
of us in an anachronistic cell
of ethnic preoccupation that
impedes us from a realization
of our full human potential.
Heritage should not blind us
to a contemporary vision. It
would be presumptuous of
me to suggest immortality or
the need for guilt in respect
for one’s heritage. The right
of knowing ones heritage is
sancrusanct. But, the
Georgia flag, as a symbol,
represents legislative
sanction.
Legislative sanction is the
ultimate expression of
civilized power. A flag is a
symbol of victory. Place it on
a staff and the phallic
connotations tease at sexual
convolutions that have
haunted the South and
Southerners for centuries.
The symbolic meanings of
Georgia’s state flag are
blatant with racist meanings.
I find it condescending for
the State to legislate a
symbol for all of its people
which is a generalization of
the most gross proportion.
For the state to sanction a
historical icon such as the
Stars and Bars as a symbol
of my history as a Black
northerner transplanted to
the South, much less the
history of my red and other
black antecedents, with
whom I claim symbolic, if not
blood relationships, is
tyrannical.
There is no state
sanctioned symbol which
images the sweat of slaves
who ran Southern
plantations while white
males fought the “lost
cause”. There is no state
sanctioned symbol of our
Cherokee, Creek, and
Seminole ancestors of which
our population, in their
absence, is so proud of
claiming heritage; nor is
there a symbol for the much
maligned carpetbeggar who
brought his Yankee business
acumen to a devastated
South.
There is no state
legislative symbol for the
Southern Appalachian Hill
country folk who fought for
the Union. If so, it might be
the color of mud and blood,
created by a massacre of
white and black Union
soldiers. The Stars and Bars
is a symbol of exclusivity
which belongs in the
repertoire of personal values.
It does not belong in our
schools where “symbols”
should be inclusive of all our
population.
It is a symbol which
glorifies a past, which was
preoccupied with race. I
refuse to accept the concept
of race. Race is a myth
perpetuated on gullible and
insecure people. It, race, is a
myth used by a privileged
few to maintain power over
the masses. Symbols which
serve the concept of race
create barriers between
people and prohibit us from
moving freely among the joys
of what other cultural
experiences can contribute to
our own humanity.
Symbols with racist
connotations symbiotically
tie us to the false divisions of
genetic variations. Let’s put
the Stars and Bars in a
museum, then take Georgia
cotton and weave it into a
new flag and stain it the
color of red clay and let our
children have a contest to
embellish it with black, red,
brown, and white symbols.
Tell our legislators to have
our children create a cultural
collage free of myopic racial
memories.
Morris Brown
“My Foundation My Comfort Zone”
It seems as if it was only yesterday
that I began my freshman year at
Morris Brown College. But, in reality
it has been four years, since I started
my journey into the land of higher
education.
Within the corridors of my mind
and spirit, my-morals and values
were supposed to be my guiding light
to deal with college life. And
fortunately, for me those things
enabled me to grasp onto problems
and solve them with maturity.
Atlanta and campus living showered
me with the realities of life that I
always knew existed. As each year
passed I began to feel more
comfortable with my environment
and with my abilities to achieve. I
found myself making decisions on my
own time instead of someone elses.
But, this new sense of independence
did not control my yearn to receive
little words of comfort from my
family and friends.
Throughout my tenure at Morris
Brown, there were both fond and
horrible memories. The two
combined forces only made me a
much stronger person. My faith and
perseverance shined a light on my
by Tamara V. Birdsong
spirit, when the tunnel of life seemed
to be a black hole. Dealing with
professors, friends and so-called
friends, became a gruesome task for
me daily. I had to pull myself
together and realize that I had to live
my life for Tamara, and not for
others individuals. Being able
to deal with various situations and
people in a proper manner enabled
me to see my maturity level. During
this time I was in my last semester
of my junior year and I began to
realize that Morris Brown had become
a “Comfort zone” for me. I was
living in my own apartment but, I
was afraid to tackle the world and
venture out.
For so long my life centered
around class, my boyfriend and sleep,
but I soon found these things could
not bring me happiness. This was a
shocker for me; because I then
realized I had to be happy with
myself first. So, I found myself on a
journey to strengthen my spirituality
level, and even today I am still on
that journey. The difference with
today and yesterday is that I now
know the direction of my life. And as
my last semester of my Senior year
approached, I had the opportunity to
witness stress in the first degree.
The pressures of papers, proposals,
exams and my internship was a
tremendous overload, that I wished
would end.
Finally my time at Morris Brown
was brought to an end. On May 20,
1996 at 2:00 p.m. the Morris Brown
College class of ‘96 marched through
the Atlanta Civic Center to start
another chapter of our lives. It was
now time for me to loosen my hold
on my comfort zone of care free
college life. From that day forward I
would be a member of the
professional arena. No longer would
I have the cushion of course work, it
was time to prove to individuals that
I knew public relations and
marketing like the back of my hand.
Unfortunately, I am still having to
prove my worth, but I know that one
day I will be a successful PR
consultant. This dream will happen
only if I remain patient, humble and
true to myself. And most important I
cannot forget the foundation that
helped to mold my mind, and I am
proud to say that it was Morris
Brown College.
campus
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attention the issues that
concerns us as a people. We
should all carry our share of
the weight.
The articles The Wolverine
Observer will be committed
to print this semester will
literally kick butt! There are
too many issues concerning
the black race and the
campus community to ignore.
It is the goal of The
Wolverine Observer to poke
and prod and to ‘become a
pain to “fix” registration,
refunds, student involve
ment, and the demand for
better instructors and
equipment.
Richard Jones,
MBC Wolverine OBSERVER Editor
Isn’t this what your
tuition is paying for? We the
students must work hard to
better ourselves and our
college by being the best
campus possible.
The Wolverine Observer is
definitely back and it has
been well-received. But that
isn’t good enough. There is
always room for improve
ment. From Chuck D of
Public Enemy: “United we
stand, yes divided we fall,
together we can stand tall...”
Have a great semester!
Peace and Positive Blessings
Richard Jones
Editor
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