My – And Our – Responsibility

Jascin N. Leonardo Finger • June 8, 2020

God gave Noah the rainbow sign, no more water, the fire next time!

– James Baldwin


That line – taken by James Baldwin from a spiritual, or slave song, has haunted me since the day I read it many years ago. It is seared upon my consciousness. In the last few years, and in particular the last week or so, it is a throbbing constant churning over and over again in my head. Are we headed for the fire? Are we in the fire? What would Baldwin, one of my favorite writers, think of us now?


I often think about what Maria Mitchell would think of certain situations. Maria Mitchell was a Quaker. She believed that all people were equal. The women’s rights movement – at least initially – was closely tied with the slaves’ rights movement. Unfortunately, a schism developed within this movement. Maria remained in the camp of all or nothing – meaning that they would fight for the universal rights of all. In fact, she turned down speaking at a meeting of “the other side” – she turned down Susan B. Anthony. And frankly, I’ve always been pretty proud of her for that.


Colour is not a human or a personal reality; it is a political reality. 

James Baldwin


It’s always hard to place a person of the past in a present day context for a myriad of reasons. She doesn’t have the benefit of history – seeing what she missed and learning from it. She did make comments in her journals and letters about the sickness she felt traveling in the South before the Civil War. I believe she would have spoken out in some form. She would have supported her students of all walks of life. I believe she’d be shocked at where we still are. That people continue to be brutalized and ill-treated based on their gender, their sexual orientation, their religious beliefs, their skin color. I believe she would be disappointed. I believe she would be deeply saddened.


Her family members were also at the forefront of fighting for the rights of all. Her brother left his wife and daughter behind on Nantucket to travel to the South to work on behalf of the Freedmen’s Aid Society during and after the Civil War. And later, he would be a founding faculty member of Howard University.


My connection and hurt during this time runs even deeper than history. If you do not know me or my family, then you do not know that we are a transracial family. My husband and I are white. Our son is African American, Haitian, and Korean. We became a family at his birth. Before my Father passed away, he said continually to my Mother about what was happening in the country, that, “We are going backwards.” He was, unfortunately, right. It seems like it is getting worse.

It demands great spiritual resilience not to hate the hater whose foot is on your neck, and an even greater miracle of perception and charity not to teach your child to hate.

– James Baldwin

I’m not going to write this eloquently – there is too much emotion involved. There is sadness, anger, fear, hysteria. I see what has happened – especially in the last few months – and I have flashes of what life will be like for my son. Sure, I can protect him now but I have found myself already having “the talk” with him – starting even before the age of six. And, as a white woman, it has not been easy. I have lived in white privilege. Any interactions he witnesses are within this privilege. Just think of what my experience might be when stopped by police compared to one of our African American friends. He witnesses my interaction – not theirs. And as a full-of-life little boy – and one who doesn’t stop at, “Stop!” – my fear is ever more increased. He is surrounded by people from all walks of life – different shades, different sexual orientations, different religious beliefs. His “uncle” is an African American man raised in Mississippi who has had horrific experiences and unfortunately continues to have them. My son’s “uncle” will also be relied upon to help us work with our son to have him better understand the unfortunate world we live in – his words may and will resonate better with my son than those of his white parents. I truly hope, plead, beg that the world we live in will be different by the time he is a teenager but history has shown it differently. It makes my stomach twist in agony, fear, and anger.


Whoever debases others is debasing himself.

– James Baldwin


I know that I will use Baldwin’s words with him. His bookshelf is already groaning with books by Baldwin, Ta-Nehisi Coates, John Lewis, J. Drew Lanham, and others – mentors on paper. This is in addition to what I have been able to find in picture books – frankly, not an easy task. Books and quotes don’t do it – but they are a start and something I have been using and will continue to use as my husband and I – and our village – try to show him the way, arm him with the tools and knowledge he needs to protect himself and others, and as we try to make this world better for him. Perhaps that sounds trite but that’s all I can do. As the mother of a child of color, I can’t breathe. I won’t breathe either until the day I die – or the day this world is finally equal and a young black man or woman can walk down a street or go for a run – NOT in fear.

Please try to remember that what they believe, as well as what they do and cause you to endure does not testify to your inferiority but to their inhumanity.

– James Baldwin


The step, however small, which is in advance of the world, shows the greatness of the person, whether that step be taken with brain, with heart, or with hands .

Maria Mitchell


JNLF

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[1855] On the 12 th [December] at 8 o’clock, I found a comet in Cetus. It is probably that seen by Bruhns in Berlin on Nov. 12. It is round and bright and moved so rapidly that in an hour I was certain of its change of place. From 8 to 10 ½ it had moved about half the diameter of my field of view. I tho’t it varied in its light but of this I am not quite certain, as I at times changed from one instrument to another, and I cannot be certain that my eye was not somewhat affected by the size of different powers, so as to affect my judgement. I would give a good deal for it to be my own possession, because it would convince me that I was not declining in vigor.  This comet, unlike her won comet of October 1, 1847, is fairly fast moving – it would take many calculations and much time for her comet to illustrate its movement – beyond just the appearance of its “tail.” Maria had made earlier comments in the month about if being a hard year – the hardest of her life. The loss of friends, her mother’s illness. But this, with other matters, buoyed her spirit and she talked about her “blessings.” This comet was one seen by Maria only eight years after her comet discovery so it seems interesting that she feels she is slipping and not as “vigorous” – she is only thirty-seven years old at this date. JNLF
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Another re-blog. I came across this recently while looking through my computer files. I want to re-blog it in memory of Jean Hughes, an incredibly gifted islander, who was directly influential in the lives of so many island children and those in need. She was the Coffin School Trustee’s President for many years and I had the honor to serve as a trustee under her. She passed away in the summer of 2025. Jeanie loaned me this from her family collections as she thought I would enjoy it. She knew me better than I thought she did. With love. 1830s Chinese silk to be exact. It literally floated into my lap as I sat reading a letter.  A letter from a young Nantucket girl to her grandparents. A young girl who just several years before had moved from tiny Nantucket Island to San Francisco with her mother to join her father. He had moved for better work and a better life. Nantucket was in an economic decline. Reading this treasure trove of letters – loaned to me by a friend who is a descendant of these people I mention – was like spying on them. Now, when I read Mitchell family letters and writing it is slightly different for me. Having worked in the Mitchell House for so long, I feel like they are a part of my family. This batch of letters was different however. I felt like they know I read their letters – as if they were looking over my shoulder or sitting on the other side of the room aghast. I felt like they thought no one ever would – or at the very least an outsider – read this correspondence. The worse letter one was the son writing to his mother upon receipt of her letter telling him of his father’s death. That was hard. Made harder because he thought his father was fine – he was as of the last letter a month or two before. Made harder as I lost my own Father a little over a year ago. I knew how he felt – but cannot imagine receiving a letter that is about a month old telling one of such horrible news. He had not seen his father in several years. I could speak to my Father, visited him monthly, and was there with him. That was not an easy letter to read. The silk fabric piece is quite beautiful – and still pristine – as if it was just folded into the letter yesterday. She wanted to share with her grandparents the dress that her cousin had brought to her directly from Hong Kong. A cousin, who was likely pregnant – or “sick” as was written but it was obvious what “sick” meant (yes, pregnancy was looked at as an illness in a way – and there were high rates of infant and mother mortality during and immediately following birth). The cousin had travelled back and forth to Hong Kong on the China Trade with her husband it seems but due to the pregnancy had to be put off with family or others until the baby was born. This was a common practice for the wives of whale captains who might go to sea with their husbands. They were put off with other whaling families or missionaries in far off ports so that they could have their baby where others could help. Sometimes they were put off months in advance. And, did you know that Nantucket whale wives were the FIRST to go to sea with their captains husbands? They set the trend – after all, we were the whaling capital of the world. At least, until we lost that title for multiple reasons. I digress. The other piece that leads one to realize that money was to be had – at least for the cousin – is that she didn’t bring fabric – she brought the dress already made in Hong Kong. Yes, it would have been less costly there than in the United States but it shows there was extra money for spending. And, there was enough excess fabric inside the dress for this young girl to cut off a piece of it and send it to her grandparents. Making them feel as if they were a part of her daily life – and making her feel that way too. So far from home. On the other side of the continent with Nantucket Sound in the midst, to boot. JNLF
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