Black Voices Choir, University of Virginia, Newcomb Hall, Fall 2013
“It does not matter what oppressors say or do or what they try to make us out to be. We know that we have a freedom not made with human hands. It is faith that defines our person, and thus enables black people to sing when the world says that we have nothing to sing about, to pray when prayer seems useless to theologians and philosophers, and to preach when the world will not listen.” James Cone, God of the Oppressed
Today (Jan. 1) as we close Kwanzaa and reflect on the principle of Imani, let us commit ourselves to never losing faith in the power of our history, the necessity of our struggle, and the promise of a brighter day for all humanity. Enjoy a very short compilation of video clips from Black Voices’ Fall 2013 concert. Thank you BV for being such great keepers of the tradition!
“The integration of our being, the integration of our experience, the integration of our history, that is the meaning of community for me.” Vincent Harding, 1988
With the spirit and lessons of Kwanzaa in mind, we repost an unedited, audio clip of Vincent Harding’s magnificent address, “Community as a Liberating Theme in Civil Rights History,” delivered at the University of Virginia’s Center for the Study of Civil Rights in 1988. The third Kwanzaa principle is Ujima, and in my view Harding’s lecture brilliantly historicizes the operationalization of “Ujima (Collective Work and Responsibility)” during the black freedom struggles of the 1950s and 1960s.
A truncated version of Harding’s speech was published in New Directions in Civil Rights Studies, a volume edited by Patricia Sullivan and the late Armstead Robinson. As some readers are probably well aware, the Center for the Study of Civil Rights was housed in the Carter G. Woodson Institute for African American and African Studies during the second half of the 1980s. This audio of Harding’s address at the Center’s “First Annual Civil Rights Conference” clocks in around 48 minutes, but be not dismayed, there’s never a dull moment. Especially intriguing is Harding’s commentary on the need for civil rights scholars to grapple with the meaning of “community” and “spirit” in their work. To those historians working on the civil rights phase of the black freedom struggle, he queries:
“Is it possible that our spirit needs to be more in sync with the spirit of the movement in order adequately to catch that movement?”
On a related note, Harding also invites critical reflections on the complex meanings and uses of “community” within the black freedom struggle. Of course, community as living archive, community as object of critical inquiry, community as motive force, are recurrent themes in Harding’s scholarly work, from his collaborative endeavors with the Institute of the Black World, to his theoretical dictates in my favorite essay of his, “The Vocation of the Black Scholar,” to his classic text, There Is a River.
Perhaps sensing that some of the conference attendees would misread his call for a deeper engagement with the idea of “community” as a request for more “local studies,” Harding offers a more expansive definition of community:
“I am referring to a way of being, a way of human beings relating to each other. I am talking about the coming together of human beings in such a way that they may enhance their mutual humanness beyond the point to which it has now come. That, I understand, to be the meaning and purpose of community. Community is a way of being among humans and, at times, non-humans such as to integrate the meaning of our past, our present and our future together.”
Black Fire 