Last year we gathered to celebrate the victory and promise of Barack Obama's new administration. This year we gathered again to remember Martin Luther King Jr.'s legacy as it continues to grow in our lifetimes.

A woman who attended the inauguration last year told stories about crowds so dense that it moved as one body. The struggle not to drink so as not to pee. Such a strong sense of unity! An older white woman in an elevator adjusted P. Diddy's tie and patted him on the shoulder without knowing who he was.

Eugene B. Redmond, Poet Laureate of East St. Louis, told about donating his papers and correspondence to Southern Illinois University. As a poet, playwright, critic, editor, educator, and important figure in the 1960s black arts movement, you can imagine the wealth of African American art history Eugene Redmond's collection will reveal.

Any Salon 53 gathering stars the art in the gallery. Among other artists represented was the father-daughter team of Najjar Abdul-Musawwir and Mekka Abul-Musawwir. Najjar teaches painting, drawing, and art history at Southern Illinois University at Carbondale. His work has been exhibited throughout the world. Mekka, his 14-year-old daughterhad her first exhibit at six. Just think of the promise ahead of her!

Underneath Najjar Abdul-Musawwir's painting of Obama in history a black and white cake was frosted with the same decoration.

Freida Wheaton and Salon 53 are favorite guests on Riehlife since I moved to St. Louis in 2007. Here is an archive.

September 3, 2007 Salon 53 opens. Home is where the art is.

December 22, 2007 Savoring a holiday party home.

March 11, 2008 John Rozelle's Sanga Series

April 14, 2008 Freida Wheaton's bonus poem during National Poetry Month

April 26th, 2008 Alvin Aily at the American Dance Theater & Dance St. Louis Ballet Ball.

October 25th, 2008 Dance St. Louis Dracula
January 19, 2009 www.riehlife.com/2009/01/19/happy-happy-martin-luther-king-jr-day/

September 7, 2009 Mavis Thompson feted

Michelle and I were heartbroken to learn this morning of the death of our dear friend, Senator Ted Kennedy.

For nearly five decades, virtually every major piece of legislation to advance the civil rights, health and economic well-being of the American people bore his name and resulted from his efforts.

His ideas and ideals are stamped on scores of laws and reflected in millions of lives -- in seniors who know new dignity; in families that know new opportunity; in children who know education's promise; and in all who can pursue their dream in an America that is more equal and more just, including me.

In the United States Senate, I can think of no one who engendered greater respect or affection from members of both sides of the aisle. His seriousness of purpose was perpetually matched by humility, warmth and good cheer. He battled passionately on the Senate floor for the causes that he held dear, and yet still maintained warm friendships across party lines. And that's one reason he became not only one of the greatest senators of our time, but one of the most accomplished Americans ever to serve our democracy.

I personally valued his wise counsel in the Senate, where, regardless of the swirl of events, he always had time for a new colleague. I cherished his confidence and momentous support in my race for the Presidency. And even as he waged a valiant struggle with a mortal illness, I've benefited as President from his encouragement and wisdom.

His fight gave us the opportunity we were denied when his brothers John and Robert were taken from us: the blessing of time to say thank you and goodbye. The outpouring of love, gratitude and fond memories to which we've all borne witness is a testament to the way this singular figure in American history touched so many lives.

For America, he was a defender of a dream. For his family, he was a guardian. Our hearts and prayers go out to them today -- to his wonderful wife, Vicki, his children Ted Jr., Patrick and Kara, his grandchildren and his extended family.

Today, our country mourns. We say goodbye to a friend and a true leader who challenged us all to live out our noblest values. And we give thanks for his memory, which inspires us still.

Sincerely,

President Barack Obama

You can also see Marvin Bell's "Yes We Can" in the Iowa City Press-Citizen newspaper on page 9A, available online by clicking this link (go to the full article for the live link).

Marvin Bell, who served two terms as the State of Iowa's first Poet Laureate, and who caucused for Obama in Iowa, wrote this poem at the request of an Obama supporter. The most recent of Mr. Bell's nineteen collections of poetry is Mars Being Red, published in 2007 by Copper Canyon Press.

You may also enjoy seeing a New York Times video op-ed on the FIRST WORDS of teenagers speaking directly to our new president expressed in poetry by clicking here.

Yes, We Can
On the inauguration of Barack Obama as the 44th president of the United States of America, Jan. 20, 2009.

by Marvin Bell

We are a people who began from a Yes,

A nation born of the yes in the farmland,

The yes engraved in the dirt and stone,

In the mines, in the sea, in the machines

That made girders that made cities,

In the big ideas that make us human,

In the yes that comes to every street

Where there endures a love of forebears

And a net for children when they fall,

Where there was a yes to “Let’s try,”

And a yes, we can do better, and a yes

That grew to enfold our largest America.

Yes to the high-rise ironworker, yes

To the diggers of tunnels and the pilots,

Yes to those still on line, to the makers,

The builders, the haulers, the guardians,

To the teachers who had to make do.

It is the yes that sings, and lights up the dark.

It is the yes in the myriad colors of unity,

And in what it means to be a grownup.

In the gasoline rainbows by the curb

As the parent takes his child to school

And the parent takes her lunch bucket to work,

And the father carries his papers

And the schoolchild her homework,

The carpenter her measure, the fisherman his tackle,

And who dares say, no we can’t, at sunup?

Have you heard the cry of yes in the newborn

At his mother’s breast, and heard the yes

Whispering in the fields at harvest time?

There is a yes that will not be shushed

In the head of the scientist weary at her desk

And in the doctor as he studies the x-rays

After hours. We are the yes from every continent,

The yes born of flesh and blood that came

By steerage and slave ship, the manyness

Of all who were this nation’s first people

Or came after, by many paths, whatever it took.

We have been an aggregate of wishes

And hopes, of the future, of blessings, of aches

And pleasure, of the sacred liberties

For which families have labored and grieved.

We still want to say yes, yes to equality,

Yes to the best in us, yes and yes to the idea

That we will be judged by what we do for others

For free, and so we have said yes, and yes again,

One nation, one people, and yes, we can.

Yesterday I attended a magnificent brunch celebration for Martin Luther King Jr. and the upcoming historic inauguration of Barack Obama.

Freida Wheaton's home art gallery named "Studio 53" was a fitting backdrop for this salon--a gathering of the most prominent African Americans in St. Louis and its expanded metro area...reaching as far as East St. Louis and Carbondale, Illinois.

Edna Patterson-Petty, whose gorgeous quilting work is renowned, had been commissioned to make a quilt for the inauguration. She is indeed making a series of seven pieces, and these, as if inspired by the Master Quilter Himself/Herself are coming out from under her hand in record time. Anyone who has ever done any kind of hand work on fabric can well appreciate the degree of her effort and the extent of her mastery. An image from one of Edna's quilt's festooned the centerpiece chocolate cake (next to the ever-popular Red Velvet cake!).

Representatives from the Eugene Redmond Writing Club attended to read their Kwansabas---a poetic form invented by the club. One of Edna's panels featured a grouping of Kwansabas on cloth.

Mr. Caston, the director of Caston's Ballet Academie, the official school of the Caston Chamber Ballet, and still a beautiful dancer himself, was there as well...still looking as calm and elegant as ever.

Freida had put out the call for art about Obama, and her community of artists had responded lavishly...some bringing a painting just for that day, before taking their pieces off the wall to which them to other exhibitions.

Happiness is the best cosmetic, after all, and everyone in attendence---representing 3 generations---radiated happiness and the beauty it brings.

It seems that humans, in order to deal with the mass of humanity they encounter, need to organize the masses by reverting to labeling people through identity. I don't know if this is genetic or a learned behavior (clearly the details are very much learned), but it is the root of much of the problems here in East and Central Africa and perhaps many other parts of the world.

Most people, African as well as Americans and Europeans (to use some identity labels), assume that "Zarembka" is an African name. This has led to a number of humorous incidents. For example, when I was being picked up at Nairobi airport in 1999 by a Kenyan Quaker, he held a sign saying, "David Zarembka." I went up to him and said, "Hello, I'm Dave Zarembka." He took one look at me and said, "No you're not!" I was somewhat taken aback and the Kenyan quickly realized his mistake.

Another time when I was giving a workshop at a peace conference at George Fox University, I stood up to summarize my workshop on the African Great Lakes. A person I later met in Bujumbura told me that she was so disappointed that I was not an African that she did not attend my workshop. For those who are not "in the know", "Zarembka" is a Polish name. (Oh,oh, maybe I am losing those who had labeled me as an African!!!)

Yet, ironically enough, since my children, Joy and Tommy, have a Kenyan mother, they are half African together with that African-sounding Polish name. But in fact "Zarembka" has now become an African name. It is the custom here in Kenya for people to name their children their African name after their grandparents.

Gladys has a daughter, Beverly, and when she gave birth to a son, they gave him the Christian name of "Danson" and an African name of "Zarembka". If he would happen to have many children and then male grandchildren ("Zarembka" has now become a male name), in fifty or so years there could be a number of Zarembkas here in Kenya!

So this labeling can have a strange history.

Once when my daughter, Joy, was attending Haverford College, I went to visit her. I found her watching a co-ed rugby game. She pointed out one player to me and asked me, "Is that player a male or a female?" It was very difficult to tell, deciding one way and then the other way. Joy's comment was, "It doesn't make any difference which gender you think that the player is, but you are uncomfortable until you make the decision one way or the other". She then commented that [in America] after determination of gender the next crucial determination is race.

In her book, Pigment of Your Imagination: Mixed Race in a Global Society (www.ThePigment.com), Joy discusses the differences in the mixed white/black couples and their children in England, Kenya, Zimbabwe, and Jamaica. In the latest national election, Barack Obama is seen in the United States as "black" and much has been made of the fact that he is the first African-American US president. His racial "identity" has little to do with his upbringing because he was brought up completely by the "white" side of his family. Yet, if he had grown up in Kenya, as Joy found out, he would have been considered "white".

But in Kenya race is not the determining factor it is in the United States. It is one's ethnicity (tribe) that counts the most. From people's African names, one can usually tell the ethnic group of the person. This ethnicity is passed through the fathers side only, so there cannot be "mixed" people even though a large number of people are actually "mixed". In Kenya, Obama is seen as a Luo regardless of the fact that he barely knew his father and has visited Kenya a total of only a few weeks. The Thursday after the US election, Kenyans got a holiday to celebrate the success of one of their own. Of course Nigerians and Ugandans got two days off because of the success of this African.

So the labeling of identity has little relationship to reality, but is putting the masses of people in the world into narrow boxes.

I have mentioned many times that most of the Quakers in Kenya live in Western Province and are a group called the Luhya. Actually this is a simplification. There are actually fourteen sub-groups among the Luhya. They were not even considered a group of their own until 1940 when they organized together to increase their political clout, beginning by giving themselves the name Luhya. But among the Luhya, people immediately determine which subgroup other people come from. As we drive around the countryside I ask Gladys where the boundaries are between the different groups and it is usually a road or a stream. I wonder how people who are, say on opposite sides of a stream, can be all that different from each other. Lugari District, where I come from, is not the home area of any one of these groups so that people from the various groups have come to live here together. Still, everyone identifies him/herself from the area he/she came from. There is a tremendous amount of inter-marriage but children follow the designation of their father. As can be expected these sub-groups all have their stereotypes.

Frankly I am irritated by these subdivisions, although by now I can frequently tell which sub-group a person is by their name or where they come from. It seems so trivial. That is, until one hears that the Maragoli (one of the largest and best educated of the Luyha groups, to which Gladys belongs) dominate the Quaker institutions at Kaimosi which is in the home area of the Tiriki. The kind of thing one hears is that the Tiriki don't like the Maragoli because they were the teachers of the Tiriki and beat the Tiriki students badly.

As much as I dislike this labeling of identity, to ignore it is impossible if one wants to understand what is going on. At one of my talks in England, the brother of a Kikuyu politician who was on the Orange Democratic Movement side (i.e., not supporting the Kikuyu Kibaki side and therefore opposing the "Kikuyu identity") noted to me that during the election campaign where he was helping out his brother, he was continually attacked as a "traitor" to the Kikuyu and, I think, felt physically in danger at times. Those who do not wish to conform to their supposed identity frequently have a tough time. Can you think up ten examples in the next few minutes?

In Rwanda and Burundi, since everyone speaks the same language, has the same culture, and lives intermingled, I am not sure that there is really any "ethnic difference", but labeling has made it so--deadly so. Again the system works only because there cannot be mixed people in the center who are not of any one side. In 1993 when Burundian Felicite Ntakaruka's sister, who was half Tutsi and half Hutu, was asked by the Tutsi military who had invaded her secondary school, to move to one side if she were a Tutsi and another side if she were a Hutu, she decided not to choose, but to stay in the middle. She was killed.

European race theory accounts for the differences in life chances between the Hutu and Tutsi. The early European "explorers" in the region decided that the cattle-keeping Tutsi came from Ethiopia while the Hutu were Bantu agriculturalists. Why was this important? Because the Ethiopians were considered the bottom rung of the white race. Consequently if the Tutsi came from Ethiopia, they were "white" and therefore should be the rulers. This is what the German, and particularly the Belgian colonialists, implemented. In Rwanda everyone had an identity card (note the use of the word "identity") on which the category "Hutu" or "Tutsi" was indicated. This had drastic consequences during the genocide as anyone with the label "Tutsi" on their identity card was killed. The hate radio station that promoted the genocide asked the Hutu to throw the Tutsi in the river so they could go back to Ethiopia. The idea is that the bodies would float down the rivers to Lake Victoria, down the White Nile, and then up the Blue Nile back to Ethiopia. The Tanzanians pulled 20,000 bodies out of the Kagera River where it empties into Lake Victoria because they were rightly afraid that the decomposing bodies would pollute the whole lake.

Recent DNA analysis has shown that all Hutu, Tutsi, and Twa (a small, discriminated against, third group in the region) are closely related genetically. Therefore the theory of the Tutsi origins in Ethiopia is total race mythology.

Recently the Rwandan Government has declared that everyone in Rwanda is a Rwandan and the categories of Hutu and Tutsi can no longer be used. Nonetheless everyone concludes very quickly who is a Tutsi and who is a Hutu. Even I can do this, although it probably takes me longer and I probably make more mistakes. (Everyone makes mistakes in this labeling of identity game.) To some this seems like progress, but then it is not so clear. In Burundi, during the Bugaza regime in the 1980's, the terms were abolished. Therefore no one was allowed to count how many Tutsi were in the government, in the army and police, students in the colleges, etc. In other words, the abolition of the terms became a method of continued domination by the Tutsi since everyone knew, yet it could not be officially known.

Like me with the many sub-groups among the Luhya, many foreigners in Rwanda and Burundi ignore or overlook these distinctions that are so important to the local people. One of the consequences of this, for example, is that all the non-governmental organizations in Bujumbura only hire Tutsi in their senior positions (some of the best paying jobs in Burundi). Since they always have had these positions and therefore are qualified and experienced, they can keep out any up-and-coming Hutu. This is not a passive game. I heard of a case when there was a senior opening in one non-governmental organization. One of the Tutsi members of that organization called up a Hutu, who could have been thinking of applying, and told him, "no Hutu should apply for the position." And, of course, if a Hutu had applied and received the position, he/she would have been sabotaged by the Tutsi so that their dominance could continue.

This has become a long essay. But the result is clear. We live in a murky world of make-believe identities which are important only because they have such negative, even deadly, effects on people's lives.

Is Barack Obama an African-American or an American? Is he "black" in the US and "white" in Kenya? Is he a Luo? Is he an African?

Kenyans expect a million Americans want to come to Obama's father's home in Siaya District and they are developing a new tourist circuit to accommodate this. What a disconnect. Yet a million Africans may want to visit his ancestral home!

I started to scream with joy, "He's won" and some of the folks I screamed this to jumped for joy. Others didn't believe me. Sarah and I had "honored guest VIP" passes thanks to a generous donor; we were directed through a bevy of black SUVs and limousines and ran into Illinois Governor Rod Blagovich. After snaking past the press tents, we faced a bank of cameras and lights. Behind us were Chicagoans of every color, age, and dress waving small American flags and dancing to the piped in music. "USA" was in lights on one of the skyscrapers and the Hancock and Sears tower were lit with red, white and blue.

Chicago loves a party and it felt like many of the other festivals I've been to here but somehow surreal at the same time. Having made Obama campaign phone calls starting with the Iowa caucuses, when it was just a few of us in the Chicago campaign office, drinking hot chocolate and trying to convince voters to take a chance, through the excitement of Indiana's primary on past the long summer of smears and going door to door to register voters and then get them turned out, I just couldn't believe in some way that we were finally seeing victory.

I think many of those in the "VIP" area felt the same way; a lot of them were young campaign interns (read" no sleep, living on chips and fast food, and little pay").

Others, like ours, were family pairs of Boomer parents and twentysomethings. The last time we remember the kind of hope we have felt this year was when we were kids and Jack Kennedy was the President.

When they announced the next "First Family of the United States" we went nuts; and there they were; Michelle, Sasha and Malia holding hands with Barack. We could barely see through the cell phones, cameras, and flags but it didn't matter. We were finally "here" and what an amazing feeling.
Barack's speech made us cry; he thanked his family including his late grandmother; he thanked us, he thanked pretty much the world and he reminded us of the hard work ahead, and then it was over, like a wedding; days and weeks and years, in this case, of preparation and you can't believe it\'s time to go home, it seemed too fast; we wanted an instant replay to savor this joy.

Strangers hugged and took pictures of each other; the crowd behind us waved flags, danced, cheered and sang.

My daughter said, "You know, I'm like Michelle, I am finally really proud of my country." For her at 25, there have been already too many wars, the Gulf War (which she protested with me as a child), the war in Afghanistan, the war in Iraq. Due to hard work and her gift for languages, she has worked in Taiwan and China and volunteered for the United Nations in Thailand and she has seen her country's reputation tarnished by too many lies and too much violence. She has also seen the effects of poverty, war, and racism not only here at home but in villages in Cambodia. So to see her wave a flag last night was wonderful. It was even more wonderful to see her be able to witness the unmitigated delight on Chicago's streets last night; as we say in the protest movement; "Whose Streets? OUR STREETS!"

People hugged, cheered, bought souvenir "Chicago Tribune" headline pins and t-shirts with "OBAMA WINS!"

At the storefront windows of Ebony and Jet crowds took photos of giant reproductions of magazine covers of Barack and Michelle and went inside for a photo with a cardboard cutout of Barack. I have never seen Chicago's black community in such absolute rapture and they were happy to share it with the rest of us. It has been a long time coming.

I'm in love this morning with Janny Scott's NY Times profile "A Free-Spirited Wanderer Who Set Obama’s Path" which so delicately traces the "unconventional life of Stanley Ann Dunham Soetoro, the parent who most shaped Mr. Obama".

A Mother’s Influence is part of a series of articles about the life and careers of contenders for the 2008 Republican and Democratic presidential nominations.

But, set that aside. Yes, we want to know about this woman because of her influence on a key figure in American politics. But, even if there were no insights to be gained in how their relationship as mother and son shaped him. Even if there were no ripples of reflection to trace between her courage and big world view...between mother and son. Even then, we'd want to know about this woman, about this life, about this way of seeing the world and being in it.

I find the article extremely moving. Janny Scott has written a nuanced portrait worthy of its subject...the subject being not only the mother, the seeker, the doer...but the subject being women in the world...the subject being a human way of relating in the world...the subject being a woman who was an arc across cultures and ways of being. She just stepped across the barriers.

A friend says of her: "She had a world view, even as a young girl. It was embracing the different, rather than that ethnocentric thing of shunning the different. That was where her mind took her.”

May our minds take us there. May we embrace the different. May our centers shift, without wobbling, to embrace continents and peoples.

"I was a precinct captain for Obama in Iowa, and one of the most impressive things his campaign did was send me a thank you gift. It was a copy of the Constitution," says Alan Brody. This act inspired his 1789 Contribution Campaign. Read more below. ---JGR

Send a “special 1789 contribution” to the Obama campaign, in the amount of $17.89 or $178.90 or $1,789.00 in honor of the 1789 date of adoption of our nation’s constitution.

Dear Friends,

All throughout 2007, Independents and Democrats in Iowa were saying, "We have many good candidates this year."

In this "first out of the gate" state, with its neighborhood caucuses, the most money and the dirtiest campaign can't win you a victory. You literally have to get out and meet the people. The candidates crisscrossed the state for 11 months. I'd guess that everyone in the state could have had the opportunity to meet any of the major candidates in person at a rally or meeting less than 30 minutes from their home. Here in Iowa City, we had multiple such opportunities.

After close scrutiny, Iowa (96 percent white as the pundits kept complaining) surprised the country by going for Barack Obama. The atmosphere in the Democratic caucuses was civil, even friendly. The results were not a vote against Hillary Clinton or John Edwards, both of whom in Iowa ran clean, fair campaigns. It was just that Iowans were more impressed by Barack Obama and his potentials to restore civility and the rule of law within America, and faith in the country abroad.

I stood up in my caucus for Obama, but coming home that January 3rd evening I was feeling like a "good Democrat." I know how badly eight years of George W. Bush have damaged this country, and so I felt ready to see the Democratic candidate selection process through, and then contribute my dollars and cast my vote for whichever of the three top Democratic candidates would emerge as nominee for November.

A mere three weeks later, I'm having second thoughts. I was one of those diehard supporters of Bill Clinton, through the worst days of the impeachment hearings. While viewing him as a shmuck for going for Monica Lewinsky, I also saw the impeachment for what it was: a sleazy, deeply unpatriotic political maneuver led by the Republican attack machine, by male Republicans who should have known better than to cast the first stone, and by a sensationalist media obsessed with profits at any cost. And I respected Hillary Clinton for how she handled herself. For her intelligence and commitment to public service, I could also forgive her her vaulting ambition and flashes of insincerity, and I had been impressed with how much she had learned and grown since 2000, as she mastered the role of Senator from New York.

Nothing that happened during the Iowa campaigns changed my mind about any of that. But I'm afraid that among those who place power above integrity, desperation brings out the worst. Stunned by their Iowa defeat in a clean and fair campaign, it appears the Clintons and the impressive political machine at their disposal has turned to personal attacks, lies and dirty tricks.

"That's politics," some will say, but I have to say, "Sorry, I'm not looking for four more years of that kind of politics."

I have also begun to ask myself, over the last few days, "Am I willing to entrust the Clintons with all of those massive powers that George W. Bush has accumulated in the White House, over the last eight years of depredations against the Constitution and the rule of law?"

I was a precinct captain for Obama in Iowa, and one of the most impressive things his campaign did was send me a "thank you gift." It was a copy of the Constitution. That's the kind of President I'm willing to entrust with all those powers George W. Bush accumulated to the White House, because I have full confidence in Barack Obama's integrity to dismantle those powers that go beyond the Constitution, and to use wisdom in his exercise of those which, for the genuine security of the country, he needs to retain.

Barack Obama has not approved this message, and I think would not. To do so might appear opportunistic, and I sincerely believe that opportunism was not the reason he and his wife Michelle decided to embark on his candidacy.

But I hope you approve this message, and if you do, I want to ask you to help "send a message" for a new politics. I am this morning sending a "special contribution" to the Obama campaign, in the amount of $17.89, in honor of the 1789 date of adoption of our nation's constitution.

This is an unusual figure that I think almost no one would normally give. So in effect, when you send this amount, you are sending a "1789" message not just to Barack but to the whole Democratic Party, and the Republican attack machines that are revving up their engines towards November. Let's make "1789" a kind of message to all the politicians that we are fed up with the politics of the last two decades, we've had enough... We want a new politics, and a President who will return to our Government civility, the rule of law, and the integrity of our Constitution.

To make that "1789" contribution, click here to go directly to the Obama secure website.

And then I hope you would forward this message to many other people on your email list, and ask them similarly to forward it. I have a dream that, before this ripple dies away, a million contributions of $17.89 could pour into the Obama campaign, and catch the attention of the press, to send a message to all the candidates that our hearts and minds are looking for a new politics for this country.

Warm regards,

Alan Brody