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crotons don't even bloom but we eat green pecans one whole day long and get the flux anyway. We learn a new way to Aunt Livvy's house a short-cut through Macedonia churchyard past the graveyard where the tenderstone man sleeps against a headstone. We thread ourselves through goober vines to avoid the shuddering pines where Aunt Heggy's ghost hangs out. like "perpendicular" and "encyclopedia" and what "picayune" means. We learn that why things grow so wild and fast in The Bottom has something to do with the rich black soil--and freedom. And wonder what it feels like to shout in church, be in the family way or to have a ding-a-ling; to ring a chicken's neck or milk a cow. And ask certain questions for the first time: If we sit under a juniper tree when we get sick and tired will God send an angel with healing water? And can JoCleeta please go to heaven too when she dies, since she's only a little white girl. Is it true that Santa Claus is a white man, and wouldn't be caught dead sliding down the chimneys of little colored girls? carry rabbit-tobacco in Prince Albert cans tucked into their hip pockets and smoke it behind the outhouse; that besides making good brooms juniper branches are pretty to look at; that Sister Hobbs is piano soloist, missionary by day and obyah-woman by night; and pretty ain't to the bone; you crop collard greens but pull turnips all the way up out of the ground; that fat meat's greasy fire is hot big girls don't cry and the preacher's hands feel like sweaty putty. too nappy-headed and too black and our footprints in the deep deep snow Up North still zig-zag around the yes indeed white folks; with growing knowledge, wisdom, and silver strands; that paved streets and neon lights can make a city bright but roses won't grow in these concrete gardens and more things than stepping on a crack can break your mother's back.  |
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About Standards |
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