There’s a profound history (and good reasons) behind the names we give our children
My paternal great grandfather’s name was Doctor. Doctor Livingston. He was born in the year 1879 so I never knew him, but I do know he wasn’t a doctor. On the contrary, my GGF was the son of parents who were enslaved in Orangeburg, South Carolina.
I’ve been researching my family history for years and, for obvious reasons, I’ve been captivated by this name for as long as I can remember. Why Doctor? Was he named after Dr. David Livingstone, the legendary missionary?
I guess I’ll never know for sure. But while reading Isabel Wilkinson’s Caste: The Origins Of Our…
I’ve learned to appreciate my parents’ intentional storytelling.
Growing up, I was always keenly aware that my parents were older than all of my friends’ parents. I was born in the late 1960s; my parents in the 1920s. Sometimes it was so frustrating when, my mother, in particular, raised my sisters and me in ways that seemed so old-fashioned. Yet, when I look back with grown eyes, I realize what a blessing it was to have been nurtured with the steady calm, seasoned discernment, and wisdom of two people who’d seen it all.
Although I can’t recall either of them giving me structured lessons in Black history, they…
In the wake of the Capitol Riot and at the dawn of a new Presidency, the words of Martin Luther King, Jr. take on a new meaning.
As our country still reels from the terror of witnessing a white nationalist mob force its way into the halls of the U.S. Capitol built by enslaved Americans (whose descendants had to clean up afterward), this treasonous attack has shone a light on the intrinsic nature of our democracy. Not only is it fragile, thereby requiring fierce protection, but at the same time, it must constantly be pushed forward because there are some who will stop at nothing to try and pull it back.
So, as we enter a time when The Capitol Riot, Martin Luther King Day, and Inauguration…
The hospitality and holiday traditions of the German people helped Lt. and Mrs. Alonzo Smith ease into their new life together, away from the grip of America’s racism.
In December 1954, Betty traveled from Washington, D.C., to join her husband in Germany where he’d been stationed for almost two years. She is surprised to discover that Black people are treated better overseas than at home.
Note: This is a continuation of Part I:
These stories are excerpts from my forthcoming book, The Cloudsmith.
Alonzo brought his wife inside the house where he’d found a space to rent just before her arrival. This was home while they waited for an apartment to become available on the base. The landlords were locals — the Muellers, a couple who lived in…
In 1954, a newly-married U.S. military officer and his wife were reunited overseas, and in many ways, their first December together set the tone for the rest of their marriage.
Five months after their hastily planned yet beautifully executed July wedding in Washington, D.C., Lt.and Mrs. Alonzo Smith, Jr. were finally going to be reunited in Germany (Alonzo had to hurry back to his post at Landstuhl Air Force Base shortly after the couple was married and Betty is getting ready to join him).
This is an excerpt from my forthcoming book, The Cloudsmith.
December 1954. Betty was deathly afraid to get on a plane and fly anywhere, let alone across the Atlantic. So, what could have been an eight-hour flight was now going to be a 4 to 5-day…
75 years ago, Black veterans had risked their lives for America only to return home to the subordinate caste.
World War II officially came to an end 75 years ago when Japan formally surrendered on September 2, 1945 during a brief ceremony aboard the Navy battleship USS Missouri, which was anchored in Tokyo Bay. Amid much pomp and circumstance, stoic Japanese leaders signed the Instrument of Surrender as did U.S. officials and leaders of the other Allied countries. When the ceremony was over, a parade of fighter jets flew overhead.
On the day of the ceremony, over 200 warships representing the U.S. Navy Fleet and the Allies were either present in Toyko Bay or sat just outside in the…
The stories of Black servicemen are often untold. Here’s one of them.
This is an excerpt from my forthcoming book, The Cloudsmith.
Part One
June 13, 1945. As the USS Norman Scott sailed into Leyte Gulf, it passed several other destroyers that were heavily damaged. Some were missing smokestacks, others had gaping holes in the decks. Realizing that his ship received only minor damage, Alonzo was grateful.
The war wasn't over yet — something he and the rest of the crew had to come to terms with despite receiving news of Germany’s surrender to the Allies just a few weeks earlier, which signaled the end of the conflict in Europe. It was a tremendous…
Our nation’s classrooms have always been at the center of social and political battles but it’s time to change that.
Fall is coming and the debate around whether we should open our nation’s school buildings or keep them closed amid a pandemic remains a heated topic. Viewpoints are falling along political party lines and that’s not surprising. Schools have always been used as a litmus test for public opinion, specifically, attitudes towards race and equality.
I’m reminded of the stories my mother used to tell me about her school shutting down for several weeks each year when she was a child.
Mom was from Cherryville, North Carolina, a small town about 40 miles west of Charlotte. Back when she was…
Homogenous communities are often the result of racist beliefs and policies that never went away.
When my family moved to the Washington, DC suburbs in 1970, the White family that purchased the house next door decided not to move in after they discovered we were Black.
All of the houses in our neighborhood were new construction — beautiful, spacious colonials with large backyards. Our almost-nextdoor neighbors’ house was nearly finished, filled with fabulous upgrades. They must have lost a good sum of money by backing out of their contract to buy the house.
Evidently, it was worth the cost of not having Black neighbors.
The way I see it, their decision was a huge loss…
America’s reckoning is needed more than an executive order.
I’ve been pulled over a few times in my life. Each time, as I waited for the police officer to approach my car, I could feel my heart racing with fear. Thankfully, I’ve never experienced an inappropriate or violent police stop.
I’ve been fortunate.
However, as the parents of three, black sons, my husband and I have had to sit them down for “The Talk” — a difficult yet potentially lifesaving conversation that no parent should ever need to have with their children. …
Kelly Vanessa Porter
Writing A Book. Storyteller of Historical Narratives. Vegan. Trusting God Always. www.kellyvporter.com
