Glory

    In our discussion of Glory we were asked to consider why Colonel Shaw volunteered the men of the 54th to lead the assault on Fort Wagner. I have wanted to come back to this question for some time as our in-class answer left me wanting.
    Our two-minute discussion centered around the idea that African-American men could not expect to be treated like human beings until they proved themselves men. As Rawlins puts it “Times coming when we gone have to ante up, ante up and kick in like men, like men!” In other words, in order to be taken seriously these African-American men had to prove themselves in battle. Unfortunately, there was a hitch to this plan, namely that in 10 months of service the black regiment had seen only one battle and they had to blackmail military officials for the privilege to fight.
    By volunteering to lead the charge on Fort Wagner the 54th showed great human dignity and courage in the face of an almost certain death sentence. They proved their dignity by accepting a noble death; by dying like men, they became men. This is, essentially, the answer we came up with in class. It is the right answer, but that makes it no less problematic for me. We have to stop accepting these kinds of answers to these kinds of situations. Why was the only way these men could be seen as men was in death? There is something inherently problematic about that idea. It seems to suggest that the only way one society will recognize the legitimacy of another is through its destruction. But that is a copout for both, because by accepting this statement as reality the latter never has to grow beyond its bigotries because the offender no longer exists, and the former doesn’t have to live in a world where reality seldom meets the ideal. Human beings have to recognize their common humanity sooner than the moment its extinguished and humanity has to stop accepting death as the price of life.
    For me this question on Glory had great resonance because it conjured up thoughts of Rwanda, Palestine, and Kosovo. I had to wonder when will we ever learn?

Push

    The novel “Push” by Sapphire may be read as a rebirth story. In chapter 1, as I stated in my last blog, we get the central metaphor of the novel. Lying on the kitchen floor of her meager apartment, beaten and bloody, Precious clings to the words of a kind stranger as she gives birth to her first child at 12 years old: “Push, Precious, you gonna hafta push.” Perhaps this is how we should read this novel. Finding her voice, finding herself and finding her way is going to be like giving birth — ugly, bloody, and beautiful.
    In a sense, Precious has to rebirth herself in order to claim a life for herself. She has to give herself a second chance at life by giving herself a life, beginning with her childhood and the ABCs. In chapter 2 we get a twisted birth scene in which the dreaming Precious takes her infant self away from her abusive mother. She acts as midwife, mother, and teacher to herself in this dream, first delivering herself from her mother, then nurturing the little Precious and finally giving herself the key to her voice — ABCDEF … “Thas the alphabet. Twenty-six letters in all. Them letters make up words. Them words everything,” Precious wrote in her journal in chapter 2.
    And when Precious is on the verge of collapse, facing a sad future as an HIV positive victim of sexual abuse, rape and incest with two babies to support, Ms. Rain drives her on, pushing her past her exhaustion:
    “‘I’m tired,’ I says.
    She says, ‘I know you are but you can’t stop now Precious, you gotta push.’ And I
    do” (97).
This scene is heavy with the connotations of labor and birth. Precious has to labor through her exhaustion in order to create meaning out of her cruel world and carve a space for herself within it.