Waterstar

Anancy & Common Sense Wance apan a time Breda Anancy mek up im mind seh im gwine callect all a de camman sense inna de wurl. Im was tinking dat he would be de smartest smaddy in de wurl ef im do dis. So Anancy traveled all ova de wurl collecting camman sense. Im go to big countries an likkle ones. Im go to primary schools and universities. Im go to govament offices and businesses. Im go people house and dem work place. Im tek all de zillions camman sense he had collected fram around the wurl and put it a big calabash. Im tek de calabash wid im to im backyard and climbed a big gwangu tree. His plan was to store it at de tap of the tree for safety-keeping. Nobady woulda get to it but Anancy. To mek sure it was safe Anancy tie the calabash to de front of his bady. Dis slow down im progress up de tree to a slow crawl. Im did look very clumsy a-go up de tree wid be-caw the calabash dida hamper im. As im was slowing going up toward de top a de tree a likkle girl below called out to im. Anancy, mek you nuh tie the calabash pon you back insteada in front of yuh. It will git up de tree much fasta and ez-a. Anancy was bex be-cah de likkle girl show im up for not thinking. She had more good sense dan him he thought. He called out to her “Mi did tink me collected all the camman sense fram all ova de wurl” He was so angry dat im fling the calabash to the to the groung and it bust. All of the camman sense im did callect fly back to all ova de wurl. An dat's how you and I manage to have just a likkle common sense for we-self tideh. Jack Mandora, me tell yuh no lie!!!

Do you like folktales/fables/parables? *********************** "Meat of the Tongue" Many years ago, in a land faw away, a great sultan lived in a palace with his wife. But the queen was very bored and unhappy. She would wander the pale, moping, yawning, and crying to herself, "What am I going to do? I am so bored and frustrated." The queen began to lose weight, and her hair began to fall out. Her skin was all pimply and her eyes were bloodshot red. She was, indeed, an unhappy queen. Now, in the village there lived a poor man whose wife was always very happy. When she worked in her garden, she would sin songs to herself and call out to her neighbors, "Hello, isn't it a beautiful day? Hope you're feeling well." The poor man's wife was a healthy, lovable, kind, and friendly woman. Her skin was nice and taut, and soft like a baby's. Well, the sultan heard about the poor man's wife and imediately summoned him to the palace. "Poor Man," said the sultan, "why is it that your qife is always so happy and beautiful and my queen is sad and frustrated? Tell me, poor man, what is your secret?" "My Sultan," said the poor man, "I have no secret. I merely feed my wife meat of the tongue." "Meat of the tongue?" whispered the sultan thoughtfully. All around, the advisors also whispered amongst themselves, "Meat of the tongue" So, the sultan summoned the butcher and told him he must sell to him, the sultan, exclusively, all the tongues of every beast in his shop. The butcher smiled and went away. The next day, he sent all the tongues of every beast in his shop to the palace. And these, the royal cook had to prepare in all manner of elegant dishes. There was tongue stew, tongue soup, fillet of tongue, tongue fricasse, barbequed tongue, and roast tongue. There was tongue pie and tongue casserole, tongue salad, and tongue under glass. And this the queen had to eat, sometimes three and four times a day. But she would not gain weight, she remained bored and frustrated, and no matter what the sultan did, he could not make his queen happy. The sultan became angry and summoned the poor man once again. "Poor Man!! You have deceived me! For this, you must exchange wives." So, the poor man reluctantly gave up his own wife and took the lean queen home. As time passed, it became clear that the new queen would not thrive in the palace. She began to grieve and weep. The fine jewels and gold did not interest her. She no longer would sing out hellos, she lost weight, and no matter how hard the sultan tried, he could not satisfy his new queen. Everyone could see that the new queen was very unhappy. But, alas, when the poor man came home, he would tell his wife of all the things he had seen and done during the day, especially the funny things. The poor man would play his kalimba, his thumb piano, and they would sing songs and laugh and talk until way in the middle of the night. The poor man's wife began to smile. She no longer lost her hair nor weight. Her skin was now taut and soft like that of a baby and she smiled to herself as she worked in her garden, remembering all of the wonderful things her n ew husband had told her the night before. The queen had become very happy. Now, there came a time when the sultan grew tired of his new wife and summoned his old wife to return to the palace. But when he saw how beautiful she had become, and how hapy she was, the sultan asked, "Wife of mine, what has this poor man done to you?" And she told him. And it was then he he understood "meat of the tongue."

No one would have probably even noticed had you not brought it to attention. After I scrolled up, I was like, "Oh!" The bro and sis speaking on the lack of loyalty and the lack of a desire to pay as prompted by black faces are so much on it. These two issues can be seen in the downfall of black bookstores and the downfall of a people in many other areas, too. You don't see our people going to Barnes and Noble expecting to be hooked up. Also, like Hickson was kind of saying, that "The next man's ice is colder, so I'm going to buy his" mentality has got to be purged from our collective. Our loyalty and support coupled with the knowledge that we need no one else's validation could go so far. On another note, Hue-Man Bookstore has closed? Dang twice. Dang, I'm late. Plus dang, because that is one bookstore that I planned on supporting again when I got to NY. Finally, I have not yet looked at the list of reasons. I soon will, but is this reason listed? Reason: MOST PEOPLE DO NOT REALLY READ AND WHEN THEY DO READ, THEY ARE NOT READING FOR OUT OF THE DESIRE FOR ENLIGHTENENT OR PLEASURE BUT MORESO OUT OF SCHOOL/WORK RELATED OBLIGATIONS.

"If you don't allow a man an education, don't put him in prison for being ignorant. That's what they did to me when I was 16." - James Brown Check out this James Brown documentary (Soul Survivor):

(1938-1997) Fela Anikulapo-Kuti The Father of Afro-Beat Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, previously Ransome-Kuti, was born in Abeokuta, Nigeria, in 1938. His family belonged to the Egba branch of the Yoruba tribe. His father, like his grandfather, was a minister of the Protestant church, and director of the local grammar school. His mother was a teacher, but later became a politician of considerable influence. As a teenager, Fela would run for miles to attend traditional celebrations in the area, already feeling that the authentic African culture of his ancestors ought to be preserved. His parents sent him to London in 1958, but rather than study medicine like his two brothers and his sister, Fela chose to register in the Trinity School of Music, where he was to spend the next five years. While still a student, he married a Nigerian girl called Remi and had three children. In his spare time, Fela played in a highlife band called Koola Lobitos with other Nigerian musicians living in London. Among these was J.K. Bremah, who had previously influenced Fela by introducing him to African music circles in Lagos at a time when Western music predominated there. Fela returned to the Nigerian capital in 1963, three years after independence. Soon after, he was playing highlife and jazz, fronting the band with those of the musicians who had come back from England. Over the next few years, they performed regularly in Lagos and then in 1969, in the midst of the Biafra war, Fela decided to take Koola Lobitos to the United States. In Los Angeles, he changed the name of the group to Fela Ransome-Kuti and Nigeria 70. At the club where they were playing, he met an African-American girl, Sandra Isodore, who was a close friend to the Black Panthers. She introduced Fela to the philosophy and writings of Malcolm X, Eldridge Cleaver and other Black activists and thinkers, through which he was to become aware of the link existing between Black peoples all over the world. Through this insight, Fela also gained a clearer understanding of his mother’s fight for the rights of Africans under colonial rule in Nigeria, together with her support of the Pan Africanist doctrine expounded by Kwame Nkrumah, the Ghanaian Head of State, who had negotiated independence for his country with the British. While in Los Angeles, Fela also found the inspiration he was seeking to create his own unique style of music, which he named Afro-Beat. Before leaving America, the band recorded some of these new songs. Back home, Fela once again changed the name of the group, this time to Fela Ransome-Kuti &Africa 70. The L.A. recordings were released as a series of singles. This new African music was a great success in Lagos, and Fela was to open a club in the Empire Hotel, called the Afro-Shrine. At that time, he was still playing the trumpet, having not yet changed to the saxophone and piano. He started singing mostly in Pidgin English rather than Yoruban, so as to be understood all over Nigeria and in neighboring countries. In his songs, he depicted everyday social situations with which a large part of the African population was able to identify. Young people from all over Nigeria flocked to hear his songs, which developed themes relating to Blackism and Africanism, encouraging a return to traditional African religions. Later he was to become satirical and sarcastic toward those in power, condemning both military and civilian regimes for their crimes of mismanagement, incompetence, theft, corruption and marginalization of the underprivileged. In 1974, pursuing his dream of an alternative society, he built a fence around his house and declared it to be an independent state: The Kalakuta Republic. To the chagrin of the bourgeois section of Nigerian society, this act of defiance was soon to spread throughout the entire neighborhood as more and more people were inspired by Fela’s stance. The authorities remained vigilant, fearing their potential power of his ‘state within a state.’ On countless occasions, Fela was to suffer the consequences of his scathing denunciations with arrests, imprisonment and beatings at the hands of authorities. With each incarceration and violent confrontation with the powers that be, Fela became more outspoken, changing his family name from ‘Ransome’ to ‘Anikulapo’ (‘he who carries death in his pouch’). His notoriety spread and his records began to sell in the millions. The population of the Kalakuta Republic grew amidst mounting criticism, particularly of the young people, many of whom were still in their teens, who left their families to live there. During the ‘Festival for Black Arts and Culture’ (FESTAC) held in Lagos in 1977, Fela sang Zombie, a satire against the military, which was to become enormously popular throughout Africa, bringing down the fury of the Nigerian army upon him and his followers. As Fela relates in Unknown Soldier, a thousand soldiers attacked the “Kalakuta Republic,” burning down his house and beating all of its occupants. The song tells that, during the course of this attack, his mother was thrown from a first floor window and later died from her injuries. Homeless and without his Shrine, which had also been destroyed along with the entire neighborhood, Fela and his group moved to the Crossroads Hotel. A year later, Fela went to Accra to arrange a tour. Upon his return, to mark the first anniversary of the destruction of the Kalakuta Republic, Fela married twenty seven women in a collective ceremony, many of whom were his dancers and singers, giving them all the name Anikulapo-Kuti. After the wedding, the whole group set off for Accra (Ghana) where concerts had been planned. In a packed Accra stadium, as Fela played Zombie, riots broke out. The entire group was arrested and held for two days before being put on a plane bound for Lagos, banned from returning to Ghana. Upon his return to Lagos, still with nowhere to live, Fela and his entire entourage squatted at the offices of Decca, where they remained for almost two months. Soon after, Fela was invited with the seventy member-strong Africa 70 to play at the Berlin Festival. After the show, almost all of the musicians ran away. Despite this catalogue of set-backs, Fela returned to Lagos determined to continue. The King of Afro-beat and his Queens went to live in Ikeja, in J. K. Bremah’s housea new Kalakuta. There, Fela, more political than ever, went on to form his own part, “Movement of the People” (M.O.P.). He presented himself as a Presidential candidate in the 1979 elections that would return the country to civilian rule. His candidature was refused. Four years later, at the next elections, Fela once more stood for President, but was prevented from campaigning by the police, who again rampaged through his house, imprisoning and beating Fela and many of his followers. Any further Presidential aspirations were crushed, however, when a coup brought Nigeria back to military rule. In 1984, with General Buhari in power, Fela served twenty months of a five year prison sentence on trumped-up currency charges. He was only released when, under General Babangida, the judge confessed to having sentenced him with such severity because of pressure from the previous regime. The judge was dismissed from office and Fela was given his liberty. Over the next decade, with an entourage of up to eighty people, now called Egypt 80, Fela made several visits to Europe and the United States. These tours were to receive tremendous public and critical acclaim, and made an important contribution to the worldwide popular acceptance of African rhythms and culture. Considering himself to be the spiritual son of Kwame Nkrumah, the renowned Pan Africanist, Fela Anikulapo-Kuti was a virulent critic of colonialism and neo-colonialism. Over the past twenty years, he became famous as a spokesman for the great mass of people, in Nigeria and elsewhere in Africa and the African diaspora, disenchanted with the period of post-independence. Fela’s sad death in August 1997 was mourned by the nation. Even those who did not agree with him were among the million people or more who attended his funeral. Even the many governmental letters of condolence sent to his family were eloquent testimonials to a great man. His death was attributed to an AIDS-related heart failure, though a more popular diagnosis was that, as a result of the countless beatings at the hands of the authorities, his system was sufficiently weakened to allow disease to enter. Throughout his life, Fela was sustained by the unconditional love and respect offered to him by the millions of people whose lives he touched. In death, he retains the legendary status to which he was elevated by the throngs of people who came to pay their last respects at his laying in state in Tafa Balewa Square: ‘Adami Eda’ – (Chief Priest). “He will live forever!” By Jacqueline Grandchamp-Thiam (Paris) &-Rikki Stein (London) 1999. Courtesy of MCA Records. In 2009, American record label Knitting Factory Records acquired the rights to reissue the 45 albums that Universal Music controls. The broadway play Fela! had its world premiere at Off-Broadway’s 37 Arts in September 2008, where it enjoyed a sold-out limited run. It won the 2009 Lucille Lortel Award for Best Musical. Fela! was conceived by Bill T. Jones, Jim Lewis and Stephen Hendel. Fela! opened in Broadway November 2009. This musical was directed and choreographed by Tony Award-winner Bill T. Jones (Spring Awakening), with a book by Jim Lewis and Bill T. Jones. Sahr Ngaujah and Kevin Mambo played the title character on alternate performances, while afrobeat band Antibalas and other members of the New York City Afrobeat community, under the direction of Aaron Johnson, performed Kuti’s music live onstage. Fela! explored Kuti's controversial life as artist, political activist and revolutionary musician. Featuring many of Fela Kuti's most captivating songs and Bill T. Jones’s imaginative staging, Fela! was a provocative hybrid of concert, dance and musical theater. Coinciding with the Broadway debut, Knitting Factory Records released The Best Of The Black President, a collection of Fela Kuti's recordings. Fela Anikulapo-Kuti Obituary "Fela was sweetperhaps not an adjective that would normally be used to describe this tornado of a man, but Fela was sweet to me. This sweetness that I perceived in him emanated from his love for humanityparticularly for those who had drawn life’s short straw. Hundreds of people depended upon Fela for a living. Many more than he needed to run his Lagos club, The Shrine, or to play in his band. I saw him as a social engineer, concerned with issues of injustice, corruption, the abuses of power. He was ready to lay his life on the line in defense of such causes, which he did on countless occasions. For his trouble he was beaten with rifle butts, endlessly harassed, imprisoned, vilified by the authorities, despised by bourgeois society (whose sons and daughters were captivated by him). His house was once burned to the ground by a thousand soldiers after they had raped and beaten his followers, thrown his mother and brother from a window, both of whom suffered fractures (his mother was ultimately to die from her injuries). Each time they were to beat him, though, he always bounced back with a vengeance, stronger than ever. It is my view that the only thing that kept him alive, and the ultimate source of his strength, was the love the people had for him. And his music – the rumble of thunder and the crack of lightning – layer upon layer of sublimely interwoven rhythm and melody, tangled in a delicious knot of divine inspiration. Deliberate conspiracies of hot brass woven around the intricately hypnotic consistency of bass and guitar lines, all driven by the dual forces of lavish percussion and Fela’s own passion for the precision of his musical vision. Heaven help any musician who might stray from his given task. Fury would descend upon him until, in mortal terror, he would struggle his way back into the groove. The icing on the cake of a Fela performance was his singers and dancersfabulous glittering unreal creatures from another world who would exude waves of sensuality and downright sexiness that you could cut with a knife. All in all, thirty-something people on stage, each playing their part in what Fela called “the underground spiritual game.” In the center of the audio-visual feast for the senses, Fela reigned supreme. He was everywhere at onceplaying keyboards, soprano or alto sax, the occasional drum solo, a sinuous dance from one side of the stage to the other and then it was time to sing, the ever-present spliff held in his elegant fingers. No moon and toon and joon for this articulate firebrand. Only eloquent, biting poetic social observation, expressed with a breathtaking clarity and natural authority which placed him firmly in an unsurpassed realm in which he had no equal. Perhaps Pavarotti can break a wine glass at sixty paces, maybe Bono can make girls wet their pants with a flick of his sweat laden hair, but for sheer master, panache, style and guts nobody could or can beat this guy. To get a bead on who he was, once he had recorded a song, he would never perform it again on stage, no matter how record company execs may plead. Recently, however, he had ceased his endless harangue of politicians, big business, organized religion, the military, police, etc. (Once, when running for President of Nigeria, he proclaimed that his first act upon being elected would be to enroll the entire population in the police force. Then, he said, “Before a policeman could slap you, he would have to think twice because you’re a policeman, too.” The authorities ultimately refused to allow him to enter the race. Too bad.) He now saw politics as “a distraction,” saying that our only task was to enter into contact with our own spirit, without which “we would not survive.” His last years were spent in spiritual contemplation. He never left the house, except twice a week to go to the Shrine to play. He wouldn’t arrive until two in the morning. There would be fifteen hundred people waiting for him and he would finish at dawn. And now he has gone. AIDS they said. As far as I’m concerned it was one beating too many which had weakened his body sufficiently to allow disease to enter. He was a giant of a man, but a man nevertheless. The system can only take so much. I went to his funeral. A hundred and fifty thousand people or so gathered in Tafawa Balewa Square to pay their last respects. Bands played, people queued endlessly to file past his glass coffin. We then ran with the coffin to a hearse (there were still thirty thousand people queuing up) to make the 20 mile journey to the Shrine, where Fela’s children were to carry out a private ceremony for family and friends. In a cavalcade of vehicles we rode through Lagos City behind a band in the back of a pick-up truck playing Fela tunes. The road was thronged with tens of thousands of people, until we came to the brow of a hill. I looked down across the valley to the distant horizon. The road was filled with people from one side to the other and as far as the eye could see. A million people or more, and even more came as we passed through each neighborhood. Seven hours to cover 20 miles and the band never dropped a note. As we came nearer to Ikeja, we began to worry. What would happen when we reached Pepple Street, a small side street in which The Shrine was situated. How, in fact would we reach The Shrine with a million people in front of us? Night fell as we drew near. We turned in to Pepple Street. There was hardly anyone there. One million or more people had decided that it was not appropriate for them to be there. Fela was my friend for the past fifteen years. Our fourteen year working relationship had grown from that friendship. I regret his passing but celebrate his life. He will live forever through the incredible legacy of more than 50 albums of music which he has left up and through the love and respect of the millions of people who knew him, from near or far. He was finally laid to rest in front of his house, Kalakuta, in Ikeja on the morning of Tuesday, August 12, 1997. His son, Femi, played a plaintive sax solo. A gentle rain felllike perfume. By Rikki Stein. Courtesy of MCA Records. Beloved Fela http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oz7mMJD5LeQ

Isn't that something? On the sun though, I absolutely love it.. I can't take too much AC. I must, however, say that I do not believe the theory of global warming (especially as caused by mankind) to be a hoax. Still, It's been so hot down here and I absolutely love it. No sun block thanks to that jazzy melanin, just shea butter and ahh, I love to take the sun in. Plus summer is vacation time and where do I choose to go during the summer? Much hotter places! Yet Mama Ocean is right there, as beautiful and blue as she can be, so more sun is actually even more wonderful. Speakin on da sunshine, gotta love it. Gotta love this tune, too. Everybody loves da sunshine ...well not "everybody" but you know)~

As far as waiting for someone to fall down from the sky, good luck to the chillun waitin for help o. It might be harder to get that cameo in the post-racial era than it was during the era of blatant slavery. Hopefully Chris Rock's comment will be one of many to cause us to think about things that are obvious yet things that we have been oblivious to for so long. Hopefully this is only one of many massive shakes that will take to awaken the sleeping giant. "Arise from your sleep, Africa. Arise from your sleep, America. There's work to be done, Africa. There's work to be done, America. If we would unite, we would be free. So long, too long." -Majek Fashek

Source MSNBC, Staff July6, 2012 Just yesterday, George Zimmerman’s attorney, Mark O’Mara, began soliciting donations for his client’s bond because he said Zimmerman couldn’t afford the one million dollar bond the judge had set. Well, all the begging for bond money must’ve worked because today, Zimmerman was released from jail. Read More: Zimmerman Released From Jail With Help of Donations to His Defense Fund

Chris Rock’s comment about white people’s day creates an angry buzz The Examiner Marci Stone Friday, comedian Chris Rock experienced quite a bit of backlash after his “white people’s day” comment on July 4th; Rock, who thought he was being funny tweeted a joke to followers, but his comment has stirred controversy. Chris Rock’s tweet: “Happy white peoples independence day the slaves weren’t free but I’m sure they enjoyed fireworks” Rock is a former “Saturday Night Live” cast member and this isn’t the first time his comments have been bathed in controversy, and he seems completely unmoved by the comments made about him. Some people have commented that they thought it was just a joke and not meant to be controversial, including actors Don Cheadle and Zach Braff. This Week in Blackness host Elon James White said this in response to Rock’s comment: "I find this Chris Rock backlash absolutely ridiculous. Really? Someone tells the truth and you mad? I’m American. I never claim otherwise. I never give the “We didn’t land on Plymouth rock” speech unless its in a really funny way. But part of being American, to me, is that I have to acknowledge all the bulls*** that comes with it. Basically some folks came over, stole other people’s land, killed them, then started a country on the backs of my people, while killing them, and then at some point they freed the slaves but then oppressed them and killed them some more. Do I have the ability to do things here that I wouldn’t in some parts of the world? Yes. But my family paid the price for that in actual blood, sweat and tears. If more people were like Rock and acknowledged the truth maybe we’d be in a better place as a Nation." ****** So, what do you think? Do you think that Chris Rock was out of line for making this comment?

That should be an interesting debate...

Though I do not at all feel bothered, Cynique, I cannot control your feeling that this is not true because I cannot control your perceptions. In other news, my daddy told me every single day when I was a little girl that I was the most beautiful in the whole wide world. All that coming from a strong, beautiful African man?? Oh trust, even if I were butt ugly, I would never believe it, so I "am" hot.

The bit about your imposing a no fly zone was just a little joke re: wars. Of course anything that is supplied is open for debate and questioning. Why should the timing of the honoring of a group of people be exempt? I would ask you if you could specifically quote anything that I said to make you infer that I had an issue with something that I posted being challenged, but I'll just stay on the subject of these all being mere views. Again, though you might disagree with some or even many of my perceptions, that does not make you less worthy of my respect. I might disagree with some or even many of yours and hopefully you feel the same about respect to this younger head, even in the midst of debate. After all, I can only share the very things that others on here share, which are opinions/perceptions/interpretations. I can't afford to let my ego get so big that I am offended by what other people think of my agreeing or disagreeing with certain things. If that is what others feel to do, then that is what they feel to do. At the end of the day, none of the individuals debating the truth really has it completely, only perceptions of it. ( <--- even that is a perception). Look how people are still debating over whether there is a supreme being or whether there is Heaven or Hell or whether the planet Earth was created and if so, how and "the god particle" and so on and so on. All those perceptions/interpretations (and often tax dollars go to fund them). Sometimes very passionate perceptions/interpretations. In the end, who can really say that he or she fully knows one way or the other? Perceptions, opinions, interpretations, perspectives. I can't get hot and bothered over my opinions/perceptions and hopefully the egos of others are not so important until others must get hot and bothered over them.

Queen Nanny of the Maroons (by Ian Bernard) Nanny, known as Granny Nanny, Grandy Nanny, and Queen Nanny was a Maroon leader and Obeah woman in Jamaica during the late 17th and early 18th centuries. Maroons were a cultural mix of African slaves and the native Arawak Indian tribes that predated European colonisation. Nanny herself was an escaped slave who had been shipped from Western Africa. It has been widely accepted that she came from the Ashanti tribe of present-day Ghana. Nanny and her four brothers (all of whom became Maroon leaders) were sold into slavery and later escaped from their plantations into the mountains and jungles that still make up a large proportion of Jamaica. Nanny and one brother, Quao, founded a village in the Blue Mountains, on the Eastern (or Windward) side of Jamaica, which became known as Nanny Town. Nanny has been described as a practitioner of Obeah, a term used in the Caribbean to describe folk magic and religion based on West African influences. Nanny Town, placed as it was in the mountains away from European settlements and difficult to assault, thrived. Nanny limited her attacks on plantations and European settlements and preferred instead to farm and trade peacefully with her neighbours. She did however make numerous successful raids to free slaves held on plantations and it has been widely accepted that her efforts contributed to the escape of almost 1,000 slaves over her lifetime. While Nanny lived, Nanny Town and the Windward Maroons thrived and multiplied. The British colonial administration became embarrassed and threatened by the successes of the Maroons. Plantation owners who were losing slaves and having equipment and crops burned by Maroon raiders demanded that colonial authorities act. Hunting parties, made up of British regular army soldiers, militiamen, and mercenaries (many from the free black community), scoured the Jamaican jungles. Captain William Cuffee, known as Captain Sambo, is credited as having killed Nanny in 1733 during one of the many and bloody engagements of the war. The war itself lasted from 1720 until a truce was declared in 1739; Cudjoe, one of Nanny’s brothers and a leader during the Maroon War, was the driving force behind the treaty. After Nanny’s death, many of the Windward Maroons moved across the island to the more sparsely inhabited Western (or Leeward) side of Jamaica. Nanny Town was eventually captured by the British and destroyed in 1734. Nanny’s life and accomplishments have been recognised by the Government of Jamaica and she has been honoured as a National Hero and awarded the title of “Right Excellent”. Currently, there are only seven such National Heroes and Nanny is conspicuous as the only woman. A modern portrait of Nanny, based on her description, appears on the Jamaican $500 note, the largest banknote in circulation in Jamaica. Sources: Mavis Campbell, The Maroons of Jamaica, 1655-1796 (Trenton, New Jersey: Africa World Press, 1990); Edward Long, The History of Jamaica, Volume II (T. Lowndes, Fleet Street, London 1774); Karla Gottlieb, The mother of us all: A history of Queen Nanny, leader of the Windward Jamaican Maroons (Trenton, New Jersey: Africa World Press, 2000). Contributor(s): Bernard, Ian Independent Historian

Queen Nanny Of The Maroons – The Mother Of A Nation By Karla Gottlieb It is night in the Blue Mountains. The year is 1734. There is no noise save the occasional hoot of an owl or the shriek of a bat enjoying its evening feast. A visitor might think the place uninhabited, but this is a warrior’s camp – Maroon soldiers and look outs are posted along every ridge, high up in the trees, behind every shadow. They are cloaked in darkness and covered in branches, hiding among the lush foliage. A few hours before morning approaches, we hear the tramp-tramp-tramp of black British boots on Maroon soil – the British soldiers, in their bright red uniforms and big black boots, with their loud laughter and disregard for their environment, are a stark contrast to the Maroon soldiers. The British have come to capture what they feel is rightfully theirs – escaped or never captured Africans who they view as slaves, the rightful property of the British government.One Brit, a straggler, comes to rest in a clearing, puts his gun down and leans back against a tree to catch his breath. He looks up to the sky, enjoying the peace and quiet of the night and wondering when they will reach the elusive Nanny Town so they can finally burn it to the ground. Suddenly, the “tree” he was leaning against comes to life, and with a whispered word in a language he has never before heard, slits the soldier’s throat. I was told this story, with slight variations, by Major Charles Aarons of the Mooretown Maroons in 1994. Maj. Aarons was, at the time, the democratically elected second-in-charge at the time, under Col. C.L.G. Harris. The two were put in place by a council of 24 women who were in turn picked by the modern Maroon people to run things in Mooretown, a town that is also called “New Nanny Town” because that is where the people moved to when Nanny Town was finally burned after about 50 years of warfare in 1734. The most significant leader of the Windward, or Eastern, Maroons was, of course, the legendary Queen Nanny. Brilliant strategist, spiritual leader, sustainer of hope, diplomat, nurturer, Nanny is the kind of leader that inspirers legends and changes the world. In fact, I would argue that Nanny had at least two significant contributions that changed the direction of the modern world: first, she developed Guerrilla warfare and the tactics she used were later studied by military strategist in the Vietnam War and others. Second, because she and her people established the first independent black polity in the New World, she led the way for freedom struggles in Haiti, Brazil, the U.S., Guadelope, Surinam… - anywhere where there were enslaved Africans. Without the work of the Maroons under her leadership, I believe the world would be a different place. Nanny, a wise and great leader who changed the history of the world, is indeed the mother of Jamaica. Her legend lives on in this great island nation – her image graces the 500 bill (the ‘Nanny Note’), she is referred to in song, poetry, verse and every day language, and she is one of seven National Heroes (the only female and the only Maroon to be so honored). Some argue[1] that because of Nanny’s influence, the Maroons and people in the surrounding area of Mooretown are more egalitarian, and that women have greater rights than in the rest of Jamaica.Queen Nanny has alternatively been called “ubiquitous,” “formidable,” “the mother nurturer of a nation,” and it is said that, “her legendary spirit evokes pride among her people, and among all Jamaicans.”[2] Incredible legends are told of this warrior queen. It is said that she was able to catch bullets and fire them back at the British. It is said that she possessed magic (also called obeah, Science, or myal) and had incredible psychological control over the British, who were deathly afraid of her and her powers. One story recounts the tale of the “Nanny Pot,” a huge cauldron of boiling liquid strategically placed on a mountain trail on the way to Nanny Town. When the British soldiers would look in the pot, they would suddenly look in and die. Each soldier coming up the single file path would meet with this same end, except for the last one, who Queen Nanny would save. She would bade him look in the pot where all the soldiers had died, and send him back home to tell his general what he saw, this further instilling the magical power of the leader. In fact, some hypothesize that this cauldron was actually the convergence of two rivers, where the water appeared to boil. The rebel queen, who was a wise herbologist, would put herbs in the water that had a chloroform-like effect. As the soldiers approached, they would inhale the vapors, become drugged, and fall in to their deaths. Another story recounts a time when the Maroons were at the brink of starvation and Queen Nanny was considering surrendering to the British. She heard a voice in her head tell her not yet, wait one more day. When she awoke the next morning, she found three pumpkin seeds in her apron pocket. The voice told her to plant them. She planted them on the side of a mountain now known as Pumpkin Hill, and in a very short time, the seeds grew to fruition with large pumpkins that saved the Maroons from starvation. This story is often cited when scholars refer to Nanny’s nurturing qualities, and her ability to care for her people like a mother earth deity. I would argue that Queen Nanny is not only the “mother of a nation,” but also the Mother of Us All. As Edward Kamau Brathwaite so eloquently states, Nanny both physically as priestess and metaphysically as queen-mother, not only contributed important inputs of personal leadership to her embattled group, but by miraculously keeping alive and adapting to the new conditions the survival rhythms of her past homeland, helped make it possible not only for her own group to survive with dignity and some respect from the other; but, by her victorious presence in and through the groups, helped to make it possible for African culture itself to survive in a hostile slave and materialist environment in such a way that that culture, instead of being eradicated, was able to survive and subterraneously contribute to what is emerging as the complex and unique “creole” culture of our time. [3] The lessons that can be learned from her leadership affect all of us. Her wisdom, openness to incorporating elements from other cultures like the Arawak and other African nations, her strength, and her spirituality inspire all of us. I think if we could all see her as a model – of resistance, determination, and strength against all odds – the world would be a better place, and we would all be able to see what is not visible, what is on the other side of the visible world. [1] Bilby, Kenneth and Filomina Chioma Steady. “Black Women and Survival: A Maroon Case.” Black Women Cross-Culturally, ed. F. Chioma Steady. Cambridge, MA: Schenkman, 1981. [2] As quoted in Gottlieb, Karla. The Mother of Us All: A History of Queen Nanny of the Windward Jamaican Maroons. Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 2000, p. 79. [3] Brathwaite, Edward Kamau. Wars of Respect: Nanny and Sam Sharpe. Kingston, Jamaica: Agency for Public Information, National Heritage Week Committee, 1976, pp. 17-18.

Queen Nanny of the Windward Maroons has largely been ignored by historians who have restricted their focus to male figures in Maroon history. Learn more about Jamaica only female national hero. By Deborah Gabriel Queen Nanny is credited with being the single figure who united the Maroons across Jamaica and played a major role the preservation of African culture and knowledge. Background Queen Nanny of the Windward Maroons has largely been ignored by historians who have restricted their focus to male figures in Maroon history. However, amongst the Maroons themselves she is held in the highest esteem. Biographical information on Queen Nanny is somewhat vague, with her being mentioned only four times in written historical texts and usually in somewhat derogatory terms. However, she is held up as the most important figure in Maroon history. She was the spiritual, cultural and military leader of the Windward Maroons and her importance stems from the fact that she guided the Maroons through the most intense period of their resistance against the British, between 1725 and 1740. Queen Nanny is presumed to have been born around the 1680’s in Africa’s Gold Coast (now known as Ghana). She was reported to belong to either the Ashanti or Akan tribe and came to Jamaica as a free woman. It is possible that Queen Nanny brought slaves of her own, reportedly being of royal African blood. It was not uncommon for African dignitaries to keep slaves. She was said to be married to a man named Adou, but had no children. She died in the 1730’s. Moore Town is now the primary town of the Windward Maroons – it was founded in 1734 after the British destroyed the original Maroon town, which was known as ‘Nanny Town’. Historical Maroon Identity and Culture Slaves imported to Jamaica from Africa came from the Gold Coast, the Congo and Madagascar. The dominant group among Maroon communities was from the Gold Coast. In Jamaica this group was referred to as Coromantie or Koromantee. They were fierce and ferocious fighters with a preference for resistance, survival and above all freedom and refused to become slaves. Between 1655 until the 1830’s they led most of the slave rebellions in Jamaica. Spiritual life was of the utmost importance to the Maroons which was incorporated into every aspect of life, from child rearing to military strategies. Almost every slave rebellion involved African spiritual practices. Leaders, such as Queen Nanny usually practiced Obeah and were able to instill confidence in their followers. Spiritual practices such as Obeah (and voodoo in Haiti) evolved from Africa, and during slavery times were of great significance to the black population. However, under colonial rule as Western culture was imposed on the Caribbean, these African practices became ‘outlawed’ and took on negative connotations. Among Maroon culture, their ancestors are revered and their importance to everyday life is recognized. The past is a source of pride which is both taught and shared. Amongst modern day Maroons, the history of their resistance against slavery is an extreme form of pride that forms a large part of Maroon identity. The story of the Maroons endurance and ability to hold off the British troops for almost eighty years is one that has never been repeated in history. What saw the Maroons through to freedom were their unfailing courage and determination. Their resistance to slavery drew on the strength of their memory of Africa and its culture. Their African culture and identity instilled in them great confidence and self esteem. So much so, that this diluted the stigma of inferiority imposed by the plantocracy. Therefore, the resistance against slavery by the Maroons was a defense of their culture and identity, their spiritual and political values and preservation of African civilization. This is why Maroon ancestors are an integral part of their day to day lives. At each annual Maroon celebration of the 1739 Peace Treaties there is a ‘private’ element of the festivities at which only Maroons may attend, where the ancestors are said to visit, including Queen Nanny who is honored. The Significance of Women Maroons On the plantations women did not escape the brutality of slavery. Marriage and partnerships among slaves were prohibited. For those that managed to form unions in secret, they were forced to endure the removal of their offspring who were separated from their mothers soon after birth and sold into slavery. Many women opted for abortions rather than see their babies endure the same fate (slavery) that had befallen them. Furthermore, women on the plantations were physically exploited by their slave masters by rape and other sexual practices that were often quite sadistic. They too endured hard physical labor within the household doing domestic work and rearing the children of their slave masters. Some occasionally worked on the plantation itself. By contrast, the Maroon women raised crops and were responsible for most of the agricultural output within their communities. The men hunted wild hogs and raided the plantations for food and supplies and to free slaves. Often, the plantations were ‘raided’ to bring back women into the Maroon communities, without which they would be unable to increase their numbers and ensure the survival of the Maroons as a race. There are legends of great women Maroon warriors who raided the plantations and freed slaves, wielding huge knives that they used to cut off the heads of the British. The strength of women in Maroon communities stemmed from their position within traditional Ashanti or Akan culture. The Ashanti culture was based on a tradition of warrior nations and a history of proud and respected women. Many Ashanti elements were retained in Maroon language and culture. The Legend of Queen Nanny Queen Nanny is credited with being the military leader of the Windward Maroons who employed clever strategies which led to their repeated success in battles with the British. She was a master of guerilla warfare and trained Maroon troops in the art of camouflage. Oral history recounts that Nanny herself would cover her soldiers with branches and leaves, instructing them to stand as still as possible so that they would resemble trees. As the British soldiers approached completely unaware that they were surrounded they would swiftly be picked off by the Maroons. Maroon settlements were sited high up in the mountains with only a narrow path leading to their town. In this way, the British soldiers could clearly be seen on approach as they advanced in single file, allowing them to be picked off one by one. This method was particularly successful with large numbers of British soldiers being killed by a comparatively small number of Maroons. A famous legend about Queen Nanny is that during 1737 at the height of the Maroon resistance against the British, Nanny and her people were near starvation and she was on the brink of surrender, when she heard voices from her ancestors telling her not to give up. When she awoke she found pumpkins seeds in her pocket which she planted on the hillside. Within a week the seeds grew into large plants laden with pumpkins that provided much needed food for the starving community. To this day, one of the hills near Nanny Town is known as ‘Pumpkin Hill’. There are two versions of the story of Nanny catching bullets. The first is that Queen Nanny was able to catch bullets with her hands, which was a highly developed art form in some parts of Africa. The other story is that Nanny was able to catch bullets with her buttocks and fart them out again. Renowned historian Edward Braithwaite suggests that the original story took a vulgar twist on account of British colonialists who were known to detest Nanny and were being deliberately offensive about her when they relayed this tale. The last legend about Queen Nanny is that she placed a large cauldron on the corner of a narrow mountain path near the edge. The pot was said to be boiling even though there was no fire beneath it. British soldiers approaching would curiously look inside, fall in and die. Some were said to collapse and fall over the hill. There have been suggestions that the pot contained special herbs with anaesthetic properties, as Nanny was said to be an herbalist. Contemporary historians maintain that the pot was in fact a circular basin formed by the hollowed out rocks of the Nanny River, joined by the waters of the Stony River. The continuously flowing river kept the water constantly frothy, giving it the appearance of a boiling pot. The Legacy of Queen Nanny Queen Nanny is credited with being the single figure who united the Maroons across Jamaica and played a major role the preservation of African culture and knowledge. She was hated by the British. Early historians wrote in derogatory terms about the Maroons, trying to present them as savages no better than animals. Queen Nanny was often portrayed as being bloodthirsty. Thickness’ journal published in 1788 described an encounter with a woman presumed to have been Nanny herself, wearing bracelets and anklets made from the teeth of British soldiers. "The old hag had a girdle around her waist with nine or ten different knives hanging in sheaths to it, many of which I have no doubt have been plunged in human flesh and blood". Much of the work compiled by Edward Braithwaite was instrumental in seeing Queen Nanny made a National Hero of Jamaica in 1976.This brought about a national recognition of the contribution made by the Maroons in securing liberty from slavery from the British. The Windward Maroons with Queen Nanny as their leader are a role model for resistance, rebellion and survival. Queen Nanny herself is a symbolic figure for all those who suffer from oppression. Whilst Queen Elizabeth 1 dispatched the pirate John Hawkins on her own ship, the SS Jesus of Lubeck to Africa with orders to transport Africans to Jamaica, Nanny of the Windward Maroons was empowering her people to resist slavery at all costs. Therefore, Queen Nanny is the true Queen of Jamaica. Acknowledgements The following excellent books were the main sources of information which formed the basis of my article:- A History of Queen Nanny, the Mother of Us All, by Karla Gottlieb ‘Black Rebels, African Caribbean Freedom Fighters in Jamaica’ by Werner Zips

Hmm.... Well this is much more of a guess than many historians seem to have. :-) I guess the absence of a thing always leaves an opportunity for creativity. So, I'll piggy back off you, Troy. Red- For those whom Christopher Columbus discovered had been living here for ages White-For the heroes who killed most of those above and hijacked the land (for freedom, of course) Blue- The sentiments of those dispossessed, disinherited, and abducted; some in their own land, others in a strange land Stars- The sight of the average. For the stars are so bright that the blind many to the realities of those things above and the legacy which is evident in nearly every aspect of society. (13 probably because dudes who dig aprons especially dig the number 13.) I know, I know. Shut up and eat my hotdog, right? I would, but I don't eat hot dogs.

Well everyday in this world, words start and end wars. Not always though, sometimes, it is the interpretation of these words that start or end wars. In the case of this thread, what you interpreted is not at all what I said neither in word nor intention. (It's a good thing that you can't impose a no-fly zone, I'd be in a bad way. :-O Peace and respect same way. )

"The Fallacy of the Fourth" by Paul Scott On July 5th 1852, the great orator and abolitionist, Frederick Douglas delivered an electrifying speech where he posed what was possibly the most significant question of his time; "What to the slave is the Fourth of July?" He received a thunderous round of applause. A hundred and twenty some odd years later, July 4th 1976, as a nine year old junior militant, I stood defiantly on a picnic table, raised my sand shovel and posed a similar question. Why do black people celebrate Independence Day,anyway?" The response I received? "Shut up and eat your hot dog!" The issue of whether African Americans should celebrate the 4th of July is one of those eternal questions that is often asked this time of year but never receives a valid answer. Why do black folks feel obligated to dress up in red, white and blue top hats and sing the Star Spangled Banner to commemorate a day when our ancestors were picking tobacco in the hot Carolina sun? Historians trace the genesis of the problem back to slavery times when the enslaved Africans were not required to work on some holidays. So as one writer put it, even in 2010, for black folks, psychologically, we reenact Emancipation Day every weekend and holiday. However, we must never confuse a day off work with historical accuracy. This may come as a shock for some but black folks weren't free in 1776. Matter of fact, it wasn't until four score and five years later that Abe Lincoln delivered the Emancipation Proclamation. Also, it must be noted that black folks gained nothing from the America's victory over the British. Lerone Bennet writes in his book "Before the Mayflower" that a Lord Dunmore, former governor of colonial Virginia, issued a proclamation on November 5, 1775 promising freedom to all male slaves willing to fight for England. This was 86 years before Lincoln "freed" the slaves in states that were rebelling against the Union. Not to mention that Britain abolished slavery in 1833 and it was not until 30 years later that slavery was abolished in America. While some may argue that Independence Day is not about slavery but the higher ideals of Freedom, Justice and the Pursuit of Happiness that is another lie that has been repeated so much that people accept it as religious dogma. In Eric Williams' book "Capitalism and Slavery" he states very clearly that the Revolutionary War was based on economics; American sovereignty versus British imperialism. According to Williams, the main source of the conflict was the control of the West Indian sugar and molasses trade. Dr. Ishakamusa Barashango in his work "Afrikan People and European Holidays: A Mental Genocide Vol II" writes that the American colonists needed the molasses to make rum that was used to exchange for slaves on the West African coast. So, why in 2010, will even the most educated African Americans so vehemently defend their compulsions to celebrate a false holiday? Part of the problem is the belief that in order to "make it" in American society, we have to "go along to get along." Unfortunately, many of us do not have the courage exhibited by the children in the Emperor's New Clothes fable to tell his royal highness that not only was he butt naked but a slave owner as well, figuratively speaking. So every year, they put on writer Paul Lawrence Dunbar's "mask that grins and lies" and sit down at 4th of July picnic tables, gobbling down as many hot dogs as they can stomach. What WEB DuBois referred to as a "double consciousness" having to be both African and American, psychologists would call schizophrenic behavior. Historically, when we wanted to be part of the American Dream they wouldn't let us but when we rejected white America's ideology they called us "divisive" and "reverse racists." So the implied threat behind bumper stickers that read "America: Love it or Leave it" is enough to beat most black folks into psychological submission. What is also disturbing is the hypocrisy that Independence Day revelers exhibit when addressing the Hip Hop generation. I find it ironic that the same black folks who will berate the youth for their justification of using the dreaded "N" word by saying that they are "redefining the meaning to stand for something positive" have no problem redefining history so they can justify setting off firecrackers. Also, although members of the older generation will criticize rappers for coming up with outlandish "hood tales" just to sell cds, they will rewrite history to give black folks Independence when they were still picking cotton. The saddest part of the whole ordeal is the message that we are sending young black children when we encourage them to celebrate Independence Day. Instead of teaching our children to think critically, we are forcing them to accept a blatantly false version of history without examining the facts. How can we teach them to value education when the foundation of the United State's educational system is based on a 200 year old lie that had a holiday formed around it. To teach young black children to celebrate Independence Day is intellectually, criminal. So, go ahead white America, enjoy your day in the sun. But as a descendant of enslaved Africans, I close with the immortal words that the Frederick Douglas: "This Fourth of July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn." Paul Scott writes for No Warning Shots Fired.com. He can be reached at (919) 451-8283 info@nowarningshotsfired.com (LOL!@ "Shut up and eat your hot dog!" lol Fi real... )

When looking at the independence flags of other nations, it is very clear that the colors have deeper meanings.For instance, some colors and their brief representations: Black-the people, gold-the sun, green-the land... Red-the blood of the people, black-the people, green-the land...Black-the people and their vigor, gold-sun/resources, blue-the water.. and so on. These things are taught right along with the meanings of the triangles or bars /stripes that might be on them. The American flag has a certain number of stripes, bars, and stars. Most people in America know the symbolism in this. However, what seems to be vague, what seems to not be taught is the symbolism in the colors of the American flag, the red, white, and blue. I have, of course, seen some explanations of these colors yet these explanations just do not seem to be clear and out in the open. They, at best, seem to be something just made up and distributed. For something that holds so much meaning to patriots, why is it that what the colors represent is not known? I mean it is a clear crime, almost sacrelige, to burn a flag... It holds so much meaning, yet why is the meaning seemingly obscure? :-) Before you rush to think that this sista has, yet again, proven to be out of her right mind, ask yourself: "Do I know the symbolism behind the colors of the American flag(especially without looking at Wikipedia for quick yet unsat. reference)? "

(What a mouthfull...) Pity for Poor Africans (1788) William Cowper I own I am shock'd at the purchase of slaves, And fear those who buy them and sell them are knaves; What I hear of thcir hardships, their tortures, and groans Is almost enough to draw pity from stones. I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, For how could we do without sugar and rum? Especially sugar, so needful we see? What? give up our desserts, our coffee, and tea! Besides, if we do, the French, Dutch, and Danes, Will heartily thank us, no doubt, for our pains; If we do not buy the poor creatures, they will, And tortures and groans will be multiplied still. If foreigners likewise would give up the trade, Much more in behalf of your wish might be said; But while they get riches by purchasing blacks, Pray tell me why we may not also go snacks? Your scruples and arguments bring to my mind A story so pat, you may think it is coin'd, On purpose to answer you, out of my mint; But, I can assure you, I saw it in print. A youngster at school, more sedate than the rest, Had once his integrity put to the test; His comrades had plotted an orchard to rob, And ask'd him to go and assist in the job. He was. shock'd,sir, like you, and answer'd -- "Oh,no What! rob our good neighbour! I pray you, don't go; Besides, the the man's poor, his orchard's his bread, Then think of his children, for they must be fed." "You speak very fine, and you look very grave, But apples we want, and apples we'll have; If you will go with us, you shall have a share, If not, you shall have neither apple nor pear." They spoke, and Tom ponder'd -- !I see they will go: Poor man! what a pity to injuro him so Poor man! I would save him his fruit if I could, But staying behind will do him no good. "If the matter depended alone upon me, His apples might hang till they dropt from the tree; But, since they will take them, I think I'll go too, He will lose none by me, though I get a few." His scruples thus silenc'd, Tom felt more at ease, And went with his comrades the apples to seize; He blam'd and protested, but join'd in the plan; He shar'd in the plunder, but pitied the man.

A Native American Take on Independence Krissy Clark July 2008 This weekend we celebrate our nation's 232nd birthday. But it's not a celebration for everybody, especially for many of the Indian tribes who lived on this land long before the Founding Fathers got here. So how is the Fourth of July handled on sovereign Indian lands? Weekend America's Krissy Clark visited some First Nations to find out: Charles Hudson is a member of the Mandan-Hidatsa tribe, born on the Fort Berthold Reservation in North Dakota. But by the time he came along, in 1959, much of the reservation was under 300 feet of Missouri River water, thanks to a giant dam built by the federal government, which relocated most of the people in his tribe. Tribal leadership fought the project for years, but failed. When the tribe's chairman finally went to Washington, D.C., to give up the land, he had to take off his glasses to weep. A picture of the moment made the front page of the Washington Post. Flooding of the reservation started soon after. "Both my mother and my father had to leave the town that they grew up in, where their families and ancestors had all lived," Hudson says. This was not the first nor the last conflict Charles and his tribe had with American institutions. Sometimes it was little things, like when Charles was going to the local public high school. "The length you could wear your hair was heavily regulated. Boys could not wear hair past their collar, and that was obviously a direct violation of their cultural norms," Hudson says. "But my goodness, that's nothing compared to the radical oppressions that my mother's generation and her father's generation were going through." "Kill the Indian to save the man" -- that oppressive motto led to restrictions on his tribe's native language and native customs. The federal government forced Indian children to go to churches and boarding schools where they were re-educated and stripped of their cultural traditions. So it makes sense that, growing up, the Fourth of July would be a dark day for Hudson, a sad tribute to the country that tried and tried again to exterminate its native people and their culture. But it wasn't -- for Hudson, the Fourth meant "summertime, family, fireworks. You can't wait for the fireworks. As a kid you look forward to that celebration." Hudson was not alone. Across the Fort Berthold Reservation-- what was left of it-- people partied on the Fourth of July. Sno Cones and barbecues, weaved together with older, indigenous traditions like powwows that would last deep into the night. At the center of the festivities was the drum. "The beat of the drum means everything in the powwow," Hudson says. "It signifies the heart beat of a people. There are different types of dances, ceremonies, give-aways, acknowledgements." So why were they celebrating? "You know, this is the classic case of making something positive out of really desperate situations," says Matthew Dennis, a professor of U.S. history who studies the way Americans celebrate national holidays. He says we can learn a lot about ourselves as a country by looking at how the Fourth is celebrated on reservations like Fort Berthold. "It is those who have struggled the most, and who've been forced to be the most creative, that have the most to teach us," Dennis says. "Forgiveness without forgetting, incredible creativity and resilience." To understand what Dennis means, we need to go back to the late 19th and early 20th century, when reservations like Fort Berthold were under severe federal rule. At one point, the reservation's white superintendent issued a declaration that read like this: "Dancing, exchanging of presents, traveling from one dance to another, and dancing feasts are not to be carried to excess." The superintendent decreed that permission for all traditional dances must be obtained in writing -- but, Dennis says, there was a kicker: He didn't object to gatherings that were on the Fourth of July. The Fourth of July, after all, was the time to teach Indians how to become good Americans. Some Indian children were even reassigned new birthdays to coincide with the Fourth. So the Mandan and Hidatsa people who lived at Fort Berthold decided that if the Fourth of July was one of the few occasions when they could celebrate their native customs, then why not celebrate the Fourth of July? By the early 1900s, the Fourth had become a big day on the reservation, Dennis says, starting at dawn and lasting well in to the evening with traditional dances and ceremonies. "All kinds of singing and dancing, exchanging of gifts," he says. "They would visit friends, initiate people into societies and do all the sorts of things that they were ordinarily prevented from doing, under the cover of this patriotic celebration." These turn-of-the-century festivities sound very familiar to Charles Hudson, the Mandan-Hidatsa Indian who grew up on Fort Berthold in the 1960s. "That's very cool," he says, when he hears Dennis's description of these old Independence Day celebrations. "If a visitor was to go visit Fort Berthold today, a visitor would see something very similar to that." And not just on the Fort Berthold Reservation. For more than a century, the Fourth of July has been a big day across Indian country. The Quapaw in Oklahoma, the Ojibwe in Minnesota and the Northern Cheyenne in Montana are just a few of the tribes that have established big rodeos and powwows on the Fourth -- celebrating the day, but making it their own. Of course, not all tribes or all Indian people have embraced the holiday in the same way. The Onondaga of upstate New York decided a few years ago to stop observing the Fourth of July altogether. Right after America declared independence in 1776, George Washington ordered Onondaga villages to be destroyed -- they were in the way of the new country. The film "Smoke Signals" by writer Sherman Alexie of the Spokane and Coeur D'Alene tribes captured the bitterness the day can bring in a scene between a father and son who are driving home on the Core D'Alene reservation one Fourth of July: "Happy Independence Day, Victor," the father says to his son with more than a hint of sarcasm. "Are you feeling independent?" That line made Michelle Singer, a member of the Navajo tribe, laugh out loud when she saw it in the theater, but she has mixed feelings about Independence Day. One the one hand, when she is at Independence Day barbecues with her little brother, "he and I would certainly joke about the irony of this being Independence Day, and yet when you think about it's the beginning of the dominance of Euro culture, if you will." On the other hand, her grandfather was a Navajo "code talker" during World War II, and she relishes the chance that the Fourth provides -- to honor him and his fellow veterans. Native Americans enlist in the military at far higher rates than any other group of Americans. So it all felt a little surreal for Singer when she found herself, a few years ago, watching the fireworks gala at the nation's capital, from the top of the federal building that houses the Bureau of Indian Affairs -- the same agency that once handed down "kill the Indian to save the man" policies to her ancestors. Singer was there because she had a job on the staff of a U.S. senator. But even after being in Washington for a few years, she says she was surprised by how moved she was by all the pomp and circumstance that night. "I could hear the Washington Philharmonic play, and see this wonderful fireworks extravaganza going on in our nation's capital just above my head, with that beautiful panoramic view that you see down the Mall," she remembers. "It was very moving." But was there any part of her that felt guilty? Like she was betraying herself or her culture by enjoying this Fourth of July spectacle? "Yeah, there's a little of that self-imposed guilt," she laughs. "Like, 'I shouldn't really be enjoying this all too much. If anything, I should have some resentment.'" But more than guilt, Singer says she felt humbled. Native Americans didn't even become citizens until 1924. And now, here she was. "We came from homes where our parents didn't have a college education, and here we were in our nation's capital, working in some pretty influential positions, and yet we were just these Indian kids," she says. The birth of this country came with caveats. But in the glow of those fireworks, it seemed to Singer that, somehow, both her countries -- her sovereign tribe and the place that issued her passport -- might one day figure things out.

independence Day for Native Americans When the lands are given back to us, and we don't have to do fund raisers or occupations to get them back ; When the buffalo are not hazed and killed by government agencies; When rocks are not sold as souvenirs on Alcatraz ; When Indian names and images are not used as Sports mascots or for commercial selling of products ; When we can have equal time in our classrooms across the United States to learn and speak our languages so they are not lost forever ; When we have funding in our schools so our children can learn; When all tribes can be "recognized" ; When we can keep our casino monies and take care of our own; When we all have health care, card carrying or not ; When we can have statues that also commemorate our own people; When we can change historical markers to reflect the truth and not glamorize the murders; When we can see curriculum in our school books and classrooms that are not romanticized or glossed over when it comes to what really happened in and around Indian Country ; When we don't have to ask permission to hunt and gather for sustenance, ceremony, or for medicinal reasons; When all Sacred Sites are in place (and protected); When our ancestors remains or artifacts are uncovered, the corporation or construction companies JUST STOP and find a different place to build; When DJ's of commercial radio stations stop putting Indian people down; When we can get our Indian Trust $$$ back out of the US Government's hands; When we can get adequate and efficient housing for all Reservations & rancherias & there is no waiting list ; When we can get more of a variety of commodity foods and some fresh food...like eggs, milk, etc ; When we can all have enough land given back to grow our own foods; When our reservations are no longer used as toxic and nuclear waste dumps; When the US Government apologizes and is held to answer for the atrocities and genocidal acts it did against countless Native American people ; When our President makes a visit to each Rez and realizes what the USA has re-created in Afghanistan, Iraq and countries to come; When our ceremonies are not sold by those who disrespect the pipe, the sweat lodge, the sundance and the things that help us heal ; When we can get roads, power, phones, and computers to the Reservations & rancherias that are without these things; When we have a gym, clinic, wellness center, etc on each and every Reservation; When we have our own radio station on each Rez; When we have more kids graduate from High school and college; When we have adults returning back to school and getting their GED; When we have less or no Indians in Prison and jail or political prisoners like Leonard Peltier; When we have more rehab, preferably traditional and native way facilities ; When we have more prevention programs and activities on the Rez's; When poverty dissipates and children and adults do not have to go hungry; When women are not referred to by the name "Squaw" and men "Chief"; When Winona La Duke sits as President in the White House

Independence Day for Native America By Helen Oliff | Published: July 4, 2011 The Fourth of July holiday inspires feelings of patriotism and freedom for many Americans. We tend to celebrate it with barbecues, picnics, and family gatherings over the long weekend. And thousands of people continue to leave their homelands to come to “the land of the free and the home of the brave” to live out the American dream. Do we ever stop to think how Independence Day might be for Native Americans? Indigenous peoples lived here free and independent for thousands of years before the United States of America was founded in 1776. This audio clip by American Public Mediacalled “A Native American Take on Independence” shares some insights from a Native perspective.

Cynique says: Well, why question the motives of those who show recognition to unsung heroes? Your frame of my mind is "why question" whereas my frame of my mind is "why not question"? I tend to believe that you would believe that we are being logical in life to question so many things. Why, then, is this situation an exception? As I said, it has nothing to do with suggesting that they continue to be ignored and it doesn't even have anything to do with my not "liking" the timing of the accolades. It is my questioning the timing of the accolades and I've no real interest in debating for the sake of debate but rather taking every exchange as a chance to heighten my awareness and to possibly aid in the heightening of awareness whenever possible. Cynicism is not so much my interest, but the issue of the conditioning of the minds of my people is of utmost priority at all times. At any rate, you said: "What you are also implying, WaterStar, is that the bravery of these Marines should be ignored because of the sins of the past." As you have continued to imply the same thing in your most current post in this thread, I ask you to quote the words that I said to make you infer this.