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In September, the Friends of the Middlesex Fells presents Nature, Our Most Precious Resource, an exhibit of artwork celebrating the beauty of the Middlesex Fells Reservation. I’m honored to have three pieces in the show, 12 x 12 prints capturing the bright-hued beauty I’ve experienced in the Fells over the years. The event is hosted at the Beebe Estate in Melrose with an opening reception scheduled for September 2nd, 7-9 PM. Further details can be found below or by calling 781-662-2340.

Learn more about Fells at Friends of the Middlesex Fells: http://www.friendsofthefells.org/

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They could have stayed in the land where they had been born, a land that over time their ancestors had come to consider home. During the war the land had been bloodied but the war was over. A few cities and institutions had been destroyed but for the most part key systems and infrastructures had been preserved.  Yes, war had ended, and with war’s end some change had come.  Were they not free? A big change, for sure, but clearly not enough.

Word spread of a different place, a place with more opportunities, where one could make a fresh start.  It would be an all or nothing gamble. Not everyone was sure of such a gamble but some were.  Families mobilized.  All they need do to reach this promised land was to cross the river.  And they did.

Not everyone was happy.

This is how one group’s journey was described by an observer:

“… today there are sixty or seventy … of all ages and sexes on the river bank … singing and shouting … waiting for a government boat that will give them free transportation … These emigrants are the most lazy … too lazy to make a living in this warm and generous climate, where nature holds out to them her arms laden with rich and magnificent fruits that never fail. She points to her lakes … with unfailing yield of food from the waters, and can boast of a soil more productive than any other. Yet this lazy class of emigrants are compelled to go [elsewhere] to make a living or be fed by a magnanimous government.  The most important of these emigrants have abandoned comfortable homes, and many of them have no means to pay passage … and what money they had was expended … [They] have been deceived by designing rascals in our midst who have held out flattering hopes and promises for the future that can never be realized. …”

As for that elsewhere considered a promised land? It was Kansas. The river crossed was the Mississippi.  The emigrants were African Americans departing the south in what’s considered to be one of the first major migrations after the Civil War. The above excerpts were posted in the Boston Post on May 2, 1879 (just fourteen years after the end of the Civil War and two years after the end of Reconstruction) in a letter written by a resident of Vidalia, Louisiana to his client in Massachusetts. His client owned a Louisiana plantation.

While over six million people were freed by the end of the Civil War, many continued to work the fields where they had once been enslaved. Few other employment options existed.  By the late 1870s, white southern elites returned to power and quickly undid many of the advancements made with regard to voting rights and economic opportunities for blacks. As economic pathways disappeared and violence increased, people sought a promised land and that land was out west and especially Kansas, home of the mythic John Brown.

One concern sparked by the exodus of African Americans was, who would work the fields?  In his 1879 letter, the author includes a clipping from another southern voice reflecting upon this potential impact and proposed federal actions.

“The proposition of [President] Garfield to appropriate from the Treasury of the United States seventy-five thousand dollars for the relief of these emigrants … it is one the of most “cheeky”propositions, to use a cant expression, we have ever heard.  Here is a people, probably in combination with Garfield himself and other haters of the South, who leave their comfortable homes in the South, and under certain unexplained influences go voluntarily to the West to better their condition.  They there find only those who have persuaded them into such a wild goose chase … They find the conditions identical with what had been told them over and over again by intelligent men in the country they have left, they find the same difficulties and trials which every class of immigrants have to encounter when moving to a new country, and they are thrown on their own resources to no greater extent than the thousands of white immigrants who every year throng the Western Territories. Why does not Mr. Garfield ask the Congress of the United States to appropriate money for the temporary support of German and Irish and other European emigrants? They are as worthy …

“If this proposition to support this band of crazy wanderers should be adopted and money appropriated for keeping them in idleness, there would be created a drain on the public Treasury which hundreds of millions would not satisfy … and the time would not be long before our Western friends would have a surfeit of their colored brethren. … How long is this peculiar care for this class of our population to continue? … The colored people are as free as the whites … He has the same right as the white man has to emigrate but he has no further right than the white man for assistance …

“The place of those who go from the South will doubtless be soon supplied by the Chinamen, and what would Mr. Garfield say if the people of the South should apply to Congress for a year’s support for the almond-eyed Mongolians who may be brought here to develop our cotton lands?”

There are other letters from that time that echo the same sentiments about the roles of African Americans, the Chinese immigrants and more but I stop here. The history of that time — of emigration, migration and refugees arriving in a new land — is complex and is part of what makes America so darned unique.  Though no wall around Kansas or along the Mississippi was mentioned, as I read the words, I could not help but think of Trump. He is nothing new. Nor are the people who look up to someone like him, a man who puts down everyone, and who enables some peoples’ worse base instincts toward selfishness, fear of others and violence.

I do not find hope in these old letters but I am reminded that we as a nation have survived such people and attitudes before.  I have seen many stories of late debating whether or not Alex Haley’s Roots should have been remade. I don’t know but I do believe that there are always lessons to be learned from studying and remembering the past.

Sources

Boston Post, May 2, 1879, page 2, “The Negro Exodus”

National Archives Exodus to Kansas

 

 

 

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… in the waters of the pond below.

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… books by Bruno Munari on drawing trees and drawing the sun. Online descriptions suggest they were written for children but I think what is meant is children of all ages.  Unexpected finds as I walked through the library. Thank goodness I have a big backpack.

More information about Bruno Munari

Brainpickings on Munari: https://www.brainpickings.org/2012/11/22/bruno-munari-design-as-art/

drawing a tree:  http://www.artbook.com/8887942765.html

drawing the sun: http://www.artbook.com/8887942773.html

Wikipedia on Munari: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bruno_Munari

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Available as PDF for $5.99 or in print. Other books can be viewed on my pinterest board. Enjoy.

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It has become tradition. After visiting Dublin I produce a small book chronicling my travels. The 2015 edition is now available for purchase in print or for immediate download: http://www.blurb.com/b/6648069-dublin-green

p.s. Of course, there’s a cybersale in effect. Save 40% until December 1st with the code: CREATIVE40

http://www.blurb.com/b/6648069-dublin-green

 

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… paired with a powerful poem referencing Icarus.  It can take a while for the free version of the 52 page journal to load but it is worth it to start from page one and work your way to the end.  This Fall 2015 edition of Dirty Chai Magazine is filled with beautiful art, creative nonfiction, fiction and poetry.  As the editor Azia DuPont notes in her opening letter there are a number of sensitive pieces dealing with tough topics chosen “not for their shock value but for their humanity.”  As always I am honored to have one of my photos selected to share the page with such works. Enjoy.

https://dirtychaimag.files.wordpress.com/2015/10/dirtychaiissueviiifall2015.pdf

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I must say …

I do love winter light.

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Thanksgiving: Simple Gifts

Well said, I think. Happy Thanksgiving wherever you are in the world. 😉

Bob Schwartz's avatarBob Schwartz

Shaker Sewing Table

The Shaker dance song Simple Gifts (Joseph Brackett, 1848) is the ultimate Thanksgiving song. It is also the ultimate American song, provided we recognize that in America, the most religious and richest nation on earth, simplicity and humility are ideals worth aspiring to and striving for.

Ken Burns writes this about his documentary The Shakers:

They called themselves the United Society of Believers in Christ’s Second Appearing, but because of their ecstatic dancing, the world called them Shakers. Though they were celibate, they are the most enduring religious experiment in American history. They believed in pacifism, natural health and hygiene, and for more than 200 years insisted that their followers should strive for simplicity and perfection in everything they did.

Shaker design, including furniture and baskets, may be familiar to you. So may the melody of Simple Gifts. It is frequently used in pop culture, and is most famous…

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