When I was growing up, my mother had three sets of dishes. There was the everyday set, the one for company and Sunday dinners, and the one for very special occasions. In fact, those occasions so special, I can’t recall our ever using them. They weren’t washed. They were dusted. One summer, a couple from “home” (Guyana) was visiting us on a tourist visa of several weeks. The wife made breakfast for her husband one morning and reached for the company dishes.
The transitional nature of death was all around us last week, and I find it liberating. The great Civil Rights champion, Hon. John H. Lewis died Friday evening. Earlier on the same day another movement stalwart, C.T. Vivian passed away. My friend and brother of several decades past in the Moorish Science Temple, Sunni Karnatu-Bey, made his transition earlier last week. And last night I watched the Netflix film The Old Guard, about a small team of warrior immortals, directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood.
The day my daughter and I got tickets to the Broadway play, Hamilton, it was by divine synchronicity. A good friend, who knew I wanted to see it, heard that morning of two other friends who had tickets for that day’s matinee but suddenly could not attend. A couple of texts, a trip to the ATM, a quick handoff at Grand Central Station, a decision for my daughter to skip classes and there we were in our mezzanine seats, lapping up every note.
It was only after a few years of working with a colleague at a D.C. museum that I learned that she is a descendant of Frederick Douglass. It is not something she readily reveals. She shared the fact during her welcome remarks at an event presented by the March on Washington Film Festival (for which I am Artistic Director) and hosted at her venue that featured Daughters of the Movement. The Daughters are the offspring of Harry Belafonte, Diahann Carroll, Malcolm X, Ossie Davis & Ruby Dee, and Bill Lynch.