taking a knee

The world of art and culture cannot remain removed from political tension whether back then or today.

The Time My Parents ‘Took A Knee’ For The Black Panthers

Jamie Bernstein, Contributor
Writer, concert narrator, filmmaker

When we fret over the intense polarization in our culture today; when we shrink from the shrill tones of TV news and social media; when we despair over the callousness of the White House toward issues of race, police brutality and peaceful protest ― we might gain insight from looking back a handful of decades to see how similarly divided we were in another era.

In 1970, I was a senior in high school when my mother, Felicia Montealegre Bernstein, organized a fundraising gathering at our New York apartment to help 21 Black Panther members who were in jail. [...]

After an hour of snacks and drinks, my mother introduced the Panther representatives, and invited them to speak about their situation and solicit support from the assembled guests. At some point in the proceedings, my father, Leonard Bernstein, arrived from his rehearsal across town, and slipped into the gathering – except, of course, my father’s larger-than-life personality did not permit him to “slip in” anywhere. All eyes turned to him.

He wound up having an exchange with Panther representative Donald Cox, during which he asked questions and Cox explained the Panther position further. In the corner, Tom Wolfe was silently ingesting all of it, like a python gradually swallowing a rabbit whole.

The next morning, Charlotte Curtis’s story appeared on the society page of the Times. (The society page!) The article bristled with scorn for the Manhattan socialite wife of the Maestro, hobnobbing with Black Panthers: “There they were, the Black Panthers... and the... white liberals... studying one another cautiously over the expensive furnishings... and the silver trays of canapés.”

My parents were condemned and mocked in the press. Their own friends criticized them for “siding” with the Panthers. The louder the volume grew, the more misunderstood the event became. [...]

Today, as I observe the hysteria surrounding the Black Lives Matter movement, and the ways in which our media – and politicians – distort and inflame the issues for their own purposes, I think back to what my parents went through in 1970: the courage they had to do the right thing for a politically vulnerable group, and the dignity they maintained as they became engulfed by the hype, melodrama, and persistent misrepresentation of events. I also think about how police brutality against blacks was the galvanizing element in both eras; the lack of progress is discouraging. [...]

Democracy’s hardest job is to find that tricky balance between a government that protects its citizens, and a government that leaves its citizens alone. When we see our government inflaming the fear of the Other, and setting minority groups one against the other, all our tyranny alarms should be ringing at full volume. I know if my parents were alive today, their tyranny alarms would be waking up the whole neighborhood by now. At the very least, they would both, most somberly, be taking a knee.




via {huff post}

0 comments:

Post a Comment