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Booker T. and W.E.B. Dubois by Dudley Randall “It seems to me,” said Booker T., “It shows a mighty lot of cheek To study chemistry and Greek When Mister Charlie needs a hand To hoe the cotton on his land, And when Miss Ann looks for a cook, Why stick your nose inside a book?”
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Booker T. and W.E.B. Dubois by Dudley Randall “It seems to me,” said Booker T., “It shows a mighty lot of cheek To study chemistry and Greek When Mister Charlie needs a hand To hoe the cotton on his land, And when Miss Ann looks for a cook, Why stick your nose inside a book?” “I don’t agree,” said W.E.B., “If I should have the drive to seek Knowledge or chemistry or Greek, I’ll do it. Charles and Miss can look Another place for (a) hand or cook. Some men rejoice in skill of hand, And some in cultivating land, But there are others who maintain The right to cultivate the brain.” “It seems to me,” said Booker T., “That all you folks have missed the boat Who shout about the right to vote, And spend vain days and sleepless nights In (an) uproar over civil rights. Just keep your mouth shut, do not grouse, But work, and save, and buy a house.” “I don’t agree,” said W.E.B., “For what can property avail If dignity and justice fail? Unless you help to make the laws, They’ll steal your house with trumped-up clause. A rope’s as tight, a fire as hot, No matter how much cash you’ve got Speak soft, and try your little plan, But as for me, I’ll be a man.” “It seems to me,” said Booker T. “I don’t agree,” said W.E.B. (What’s your angle Booker T.? a question posed by Remedy)
Ancestor Thank God your ancestor, not then known by his slave name crouched low in the ship bent his back and grimaced well enough to bear the pain. Be grateful too that he did not excuse himself from the misery of enslavement but chose to endure an imprisoned existence. Was he simply strong in body or was his mind so sharp he outwitted those in charge? (1996). Jones, M. The Color of Culture II. Seattle: Impact Communications.
Crown By Dakari Kamau Hru Can’t stop watching you! Pardon while I stare Watching your Afrikan locks Love you for your hair. Gently bouncing near your brow Cupping ‘round your ear The poetry atop your head Keeps me coming near. Swirling, sassy spiral-strands Swing like swizzle sticks. Laughing locks lay lavishly Look like licorice. Can’t stop watching you! Crown extraordinaire. Don’t wear no hat. Don’t change a thing—My baby has GOOD hair! Shake your head and let your locks Hang all loose and free. Shake them locks for no one else You belong to me. I could take you all around Let the people stare. I would be so proud to holler, “See my baby’s hair!” Even if you tie it back And make a pony tail, A train come speedin’ down the track Would have to jump the rail! Can’t stop watching you! Crown extraordinaire. Don’t wear no hat. Don’t change a thing—My baby has GOOD hair!
Success To laugh often and much, To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, To find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, Whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. That is to have succeeded. Ralph Waldo Emerson