ROLE MODEL
Those of you who have read these BLOGs (one thousand and seventeen, so far); know that seventy years ago my mother died in childbirth, leaving my father with eight children, alive, ranging from 2 to 13 in age. My mother, and the infant, both lived, briefly, but there was not enough blood available for either of them to sustain life.
For the next four years, my father struggled, without significant help, to keep us alive, and to earn a living. My mother was a college graduate; my father had a sixth-grade education; upgraded significantly by my mother, during their marriage of fifteen years. Our child-rearing pattern had been firmly established by both parents,by the time of her death; and it served well to insure our survival for the next four years. During those years, we had to "raise" ourselves, overnight, while my Dad worked at his job, for the Railroad. You can imagine the plehtora of "tales" that can be told of events during those years, when we all had to "grow up" -- to take full responsibility for our actions, and, to support each other.
Dad would arrive home at the crack of Dawn; get our breakfast, and get the six older children off to school. During the day, he would cook, wash clothes, mind the two children who were too young for school, and get enough sleep to make it back to work; at Dusk. He did this for four years. There was a "nursery school" service that he could pay for. Often the two youngest children would run away from the Nursery School, and show up on the Play-Ground at our School; at Recess time. The "shock" experssed by the entire Black Community, at the time of the death, was quickly followed by a strange "withdrawal", and scarce offers of support. We later learned that the community reaction was "orchestrated" by my Grand-mother, who decided to "grieve" her daughter's death in that way. My Grandfather did not share her behavior. He would "drop by" the house to make sure we got to bed on time.
My Dad was, strangely, prepared for his role. His Father deserted his family in 1918, to make a "killing" as a boot-legger. My other Grandmother, his mother, was ill, and Dad dropped out of school, to work, from Dawn to Dusk, plowing fields on an adjoining farm. His mother died when he was eighteen, and he fought, unsuccessfully, to gain custody for his three youngest siblings. They were "taken" by the State of Missouri, and lived miserable lives as a result. One of them, a boy,, my namesake, was murdered in Sioux City, Iowa in 1933. Dad married again, in 1949. We got a Step-mother!
Stay Vigilant! This country began to experience a trend toward under-performing male children, around the time Ronald Reagan arose to the Presidency. All male children, regardless of class and race, have been impacted by the "forces" that have produced so many "worthless" males among us. We still don't have a "handle" on the most significant causes. The "degradation" has grown; along with this Nation's shift to rhe Hard Right.
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