I had a full weekend planned with my high-energy 2-year-old. I was especially thrilled about Saturday’s meal. I was throwing a little meat on the grill and if you’ve ever barbequed with a 2-year-old, you know the excitement.
Friday night was grocery shopping.
“Daddy, Daddy… I know what I want!”
“Okay,” I said, dazed by her sudden outburst.
“Can you cook some more of that long chicken like you did that other time?”
“Baby, which ‘other time’ … and what is … ?” Then I remembered she was 2.
For what seemed like an eternity, I lifted chicken parts from the freezer hoping she’d say: “That’s it!” Of course, raw chicken looks nothing like the finished product. Suddenly, as loud and as shocking as her original outburst, I heard, “These, these long chickens right here.”
Long chicken was bratwurst sausage and the “other time” was almost a month before. And, it was her 80-year-old aunt who grilled them.
This was the beginning of my daughter regularly planning family dinners and establishing the topic of the evening’s discussion. One weekend we watched “Rosewood,” a movie based on the historic massacre and destruction of a town of African-Americans in Florida in 1923. As she shook her head over and over at scenes of unprovoked violence and mayhem against people that looked like her, she machine-gunned me with questions that initiated her early understanding of racism in America. I will admit that her complex questions initially challenged me, but they helped me to become a better teacher.
One question from that night still disturbs me today: “If they didn’t want to be with the black people, why did they get mad when they tried to be by themselves?” Neither of us could understand the rationale behind prohibiting a group from being self-determinant, from birthing something uniquely their own.
When God called Abraham “the father of many nations,” something was called into existence that did not previously exist. Paul could not avoid mentioning how Abraham harshly considered his 100-year-old body “already as good as dead.” He and Sarah had been unsuccessful in conceiving children, yet Abraham now believed it possible. This was based solely in their faith. Unlike us who have the Bible and Abraham and Sarah’s story, all Abraham had was hope.
However, what was spoken into existence that day was more than just a baby. It was a redefining of “nationhood.” Previously isolated to geography, nationhood was now expanded to include groups that shared common culture, interest, beliefs and faith. As a self-determining act, a number of African-American organizations formed before and during the civil rights movement chose to include the word “nation” in their names. The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, National Urban League, National Action Network and the National Black Women’s Justice Initiative are but a few of these groups.
These organizations “became great nations” by choosing not to restrict membership by faith, color or continent, but by inviting membership for all who shared their concern for critical causes. On a 2008 broadcast of “The Phil Donahue Show,” Louis Farrakhan declared even the Nation of Islam to be open to those who shared belief in the teachings of the organization.
While organizations still bring negative connotation to the word (think, Arian Nation), there are still cohesive groups that promote God’s ideals of community, love and equity. Against all hope, these groups ignite powerful movements against inequality and injustice. By faith alone, they dream bold, beautiful new worlds.
My daughter is now quite the activist and she’s considering graduate school. She proudly serves several organizations, including Long Chicken, a recently formed group of her colleagues that gathers over dinner to discuss how to be community around recent events affecting black women. Whenever reading the news, I imagine her signature headshaking and my heart warms in knowing that she’s about to plan a little dinner gathering.
CARLTON JOHNSON is the operations officer for Johnson C. Smith Theological Seminary in Atlanta. He also serves as president of the Atlanta chapter of the Association for the Study of African American Life and History.
