The time will come when African-Americans will participate in our great country America. We will not be hidden in the ' Black' Statistics. Black History is American History.

African-American History is that of a people whos' Ancestors were enslaved in America for hundreds of years.                                                           

 The Mainstream

 

Yes, I was brought to the city. Bringing with me the fears that my mother and father brought with them when they escaped the foot of the deep South.

Seeking the land of plenty where those like me had an opportunity to just live free.. of out-houses, and back of the bus rides, with no posted signs keeping me out.

We settled in the brickyards; where, when I looked up, I saw Black people just like me hanging out of the highrise windows; flirting with the graveyard for all eternity.

So..., I dreamed of getting out, with the drive, ambition, and determination that my mother and father had, when they decided to get out of the deep South. I found my way out!

I didn't have to look up (any more), to see people like me. I looked around the ghetto and saw where I didn't want to be. My schools and stores were designed especially for me, so it's said, with my mentality.

I moved accross the street, where 'no signs' were posted all around. There was no turning back, although I feared death  from this new breed of folks I'd found... living there. I rode the tide and waited it out. That new breed of folks changed without a doubt.

Now, they were all like me. My schools and stores were still designed to be for people just like me, so it's said, reflecting my mentality. I continued to dream of getting out.

I moved into the mainstream, and found myself standing beside a mayor. I looked around, there were none like me there; until that day the mayor would be...from that group of folks called minority, who were at last free. Now, my school and stores reflects my mentality.

This is Harold Washington Mayor of Chicago

 

Ode To The Peoples Man

How befitting, the sky closed its eye and cried for a great man who died. It wept throughout the period he lay in state while lamenters filed by paying homage to the Giant whose hands now rest upon the laws of this land for all eternity.

He was one of his kind, endowed with great leadership qualities that emerged when political jockying reached deep into his being and pushed to the surface the gifts of knowledge, readeric, strenght, and love that he shared with his clan; encouraging them to be strong and honest, while following in the footsteps of this great African-American man.

For it to be said when one is dead, that he paved the road to happiness; with praise for those less fortunate beings who looked in every corner of the world for the recognition, that lifts a man's head high, makes him proud and shy, and, inflates his chest before he's laid to rest - is the ultimate test of ones success.

 Thank you Harold for being the leader that you were. We will always miss you. You too... were gone too soon.

 (c) June Colbert Bowman-Sims