I knew this one was coming, but I’m glad. Greenwood, how do I describe it? Well, one city (if you can call it a city) seems like two. For all intents and purposes, it is two cities--Greenwood Black and Greenwood White. For one of the better Delta cities and according to Ben, “One that’s doing pretty well for itself”, Greenwood doesn’t have much to offer--Greenwood Black that it.
When we rode through Greenwood Black you would think we were riding through a village in Southeast Asia, India, or Latin America--anywhere but the United States. Yet, we weren’t; we were ridding through our backyard. Oh my goodness! The shotgun homes were worst than I imagined. It wasn’t just one or two homes; it was ALL of them! What many people would consider backyard storage units people used as homes. Over crowding, no privacy, no wonder this environment breeds sexual abuse.
Something that surprised me was the absence of police in these environments. You would think if these areas were high crime/drug locations the cops would swarm like bees to honey. Then again, what did PE say about 911 in the hood?
Black Greenwood depressed me. It’s easier to stay optimistic when reality is not staring you in the face. The problems are copious and they’re mounting everyday. Call it a character trait, call it naïveté, but I’m still optimistic. Why? Because if we improve one problem we’ll start to improve many. Education. In Mississippi education isn’t a sinking or capsized ship, it’s already at the bottom of the sea. We need to raise it from the dead. I’m also optimistic because in an environment where problems come from all angles, you can focus education in the cross hairs. Let me take that back, it’s more like a shotgun. If we fire at education, the multiple projectiles will hit other problems. I’m not a gun enthusiast, but this analogy works.
The Bridge over the river separating Greenwood is like a bridge into another world. Can you imagine living on the Black side of Greenwood and knowing that a better world exists right over the bridge? It’s not just the size of the homes; it’s the infrastructure, the neighborhoods, the schools, and the security (present and future). If you don’t know any different, you grow up you entire life see Black people live one way and White people another, why would you have any motivation to change that?
I was born by the river in a little tent
Oh and just like the river I’ve been running ever since
The Tallahatchie River. I think it actually clicked with me this summer that this is the river where Emmet Till was dumped. I can’t remember if I posted about Emmet Till, but if you’re reading this you may know the story, if you don’t then go read about it. On our trip to Greenwood we continued to Money, MS—a town between a river and railroad tracks. In Money we stopped at the rubble of Bryant’s Grocery, the location where 14-year-old Emmet Till wolf whistled at a white woman. It didn’t start running through my mind why I cared or felt something when I was at the store. More precisely, why I didn’t care for so long. Don’t get me wrong, I CARE about the Civil Rights Movement and Black history, indeed it is my favorite topic in history and I can talk about all day long. However, I feel like I should have known…it’s my history. I feel like I should know more about the big parts and the little parts, the extraordinary and the ordinary. So many things that happened in the past give reason to why things are the way they are in the present. It’s the legacy of oppression; it still oppresses.
It’s been a long, long time coming
But I know a change gonna come, oh yes it will
How long will we have to wait until cities like Greenwood across this nation experience positive change? Will the youth of the nation have to sacrifice their lives where the government won't take the lead? I don’t know how we can ask someone to pull themselves up from their bootstraps when they don't even have boots.
We took a trip to Greenwood, MS. We don’t live there. Even when were in the city I was protected from the streets in a van—a University van. Thinking back on it I think just driving through (doing the infamous fly-over after Katrina), as I was looking out, protected, others were looking in. I hope I did not make them feel like they were some strange creatures in a strange world—that they were somehow detrimentally different.
I talk about change a lot, and of things I’ve posted, some might call them radical. But, I wonder if I have the strength to do it myself. I’m human; I’ve had dreams too. Can I ask you to sacrifice yours, without doing it myself? Is there a way that we don’t have to sacrifice? Must it always be from the bottom up? If only we lived in a perfect world, but we don’t, we live in this one. I have hope though that a change is gonna come, “oh yes it will.”
-Radical.
Note: Inter-paragraph lyrics are from Sam Cooke's song A Change is Gonna Come
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