Showing posts with label studs terkel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label studs terkel. Show all posts

Thursday, February 19, 2009

studs terkel's post-script to the world

Studs Terkel, Chicago native and famous oral historian passed away on October 31 of last year. Four days later his book “P.S. Further Thoughts From a Lifetime of Listening,” was published. Author of sixteen other books and a disc jockey for 45 years, Terkel made a living out of listening to people tell their stories, and telling those stories to the world.

It is hard to know where to start when reading Terkel’s large body of work. Although “P.S.” is his last book, it is a good first read for those new to Terkel.

The book is a compilation of previously published essays and works that Terkel claims in his preface were, “scattered, torn sheets of wrinkled paper under the desk, behind the bookcases, beneath the couch, tossed in boxes, everywhere.”

Because of the “scattered” nature of this book’s creation, it has an eclectic nature that reflects Terkel and his interests well. One of the essays “Dreamland,” is autobiographical. Terkel writes about his youth and his brother’s mishaps with girls he brought home from Dreamland, a dance hall where black jazz bands played. This essay gives the reader a good picture of Terkel’s boyhood in the 1920’s, and reminds one that life isn’t pristine in any decade.

The greatest essay in the book is Terkel’s interview with author James Baldwin. In the essay the reader can see how skilled Terkel was as an interviewer by the questions he asked Baldwin.

The interview took place in 1961, and Baldwin has just published his book “Nobody Knows My Name.” In the interview, Baldwin reflects on the pain he suffered as an African American in the United States by not having an identity.

He said this identity must be discovered by both blacks and whites, and commented that, “the American Negro is the key figure in this country. And if we don’t face him, we will never face anything.”

This interview is intriguing because it is written at the heart of the civil rights movement, and it is on a subject that was important to Terkel, who also wrote an excellent book called “Race” where he interviewed white and black Americans about their thoughts, feelings, and experiences with race.

When one reads the Baldwin interview, and also the book “Race,” it is easy to initially feel as though the problems of race are solved, until the reader sees him or herself reflected in one of the interviews. And that is the point, by talking to everyday people, Terkel gives Americans a glimpse into their own hearts, and holds up a mirror to their inner personalities.

Terkel, who described himself as an agnostic in an interview on National Public Radio, came to different conclusions than the average evangelical Christian. However, despite his differences in worldview, Terkel has given America, and the world, a piece of its story through his interviews. Any reader desiring to better understand race and the American people should give Terkel’s books a try. They are worth a listen.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

stereotypes, stories of sin, and brother mike

Generalizations.  It is always frustrating when someone assumes that they know you, because you fit a type, a file in their classification scheme.

I lived in California, and I was homeschooled.  Let's file me.

You lived in California- Check one of the following=
  • Movie star
  • Valley girl
  • Surfer
  • From the O.C.
You were homeschooled- Check all that apply=
  • Nerd
  • Denim skirts
  • Complete homework in pajamas while eating cookies.
  • Nerd
Somehow the above don't mix, I don't fit any of the descriptions (maybe nerd), and I become unclassifiable.  Or, the exception.

"Other Californians I've met were stuck up, but not you."
"You're cool, tell your parents they did a good job, you're not like other homeschoolers."

Other.

Whose the other, the generalization?  The generalized individual.  The more I meet people from groups I have generalized, the less I can classify them.

Brother Mike was my other.  He begged at the corner of our intersection in California.  He asked my dad for a dollar once to get a hotdog.

I was afraid of him.  He was homeless, he wanted my money, he had a mental impairment...he was dangerous.

One day we were trying to cross the street quickly because Brother Mike was coming toward us.  We had a whole envelope full of money.  We were selling lollipops to fundraise for my brother's wrestling team.

We almost got hit by a car in our attempt to get away from Brother Mike.  He shouted to us from across the street.  "You kids be careful okay?  You almost got yourselves killed!"  And kept walking.

It blew my mind, and destroyed my stereotype.

I have been reading the book Race by Studs Terkel.  In one of his interviews he talks to a woman who has become bigoted in her opinions of African Americans because of her experiences in law enforcement.  At one point, Terkel asked her about her friends that were black, she replies:

"They're exceptions.  Absolutely.  And all the people from my church.  It's ninety-five-percent black."

His follow-up question concerns her colleagues, she replies:

"--Are exceptions.  Oh absolutely."

Were these people exceptions?  Or were they just the people who got to tell her their story?

Everyone has a story, a story of fallenness... no matter what race or gender.

Everyone sees the world through a lens based on their story, and each of our lenses is cracked and irreparably scratched by sin.

It is difficult to generalize when we begin to hear the stories of the other.

Jesus took the time to love people, because He already knew their stories.  He reached out to the generalized, the downtrodden... the ones without a voice because, "We all know what those people are like, we know their kind Jesus."

Zacchaeus.  Tax collector.  "We know him Jesus. He rips us off on every tax return."
Jesus replies, "Zacchaeus, make haste and come down, for today I must stay at your house."

Adultress.  About to be stoned by the religious leaders. "We know her Jesus.  She has sinned against the community, and against You."
Jesus replies, "He who is without sin among you, let him throw a stone at her first."
To the woman, Jesus says, "Go and sin no more."

Every criminal has a story of sin.  As well as every churchman, every atheist, every child.

C.S. Lewis' classic devil Screwtape says, "It does not matter how small the sins are, provided that their cumulative effect is to edge the man away from the Light and out into the Nothing. Murder is no better than cards if cards can do the trick. Indeed the safest road to Hell is the gradual one—the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts."

We all are on a slope to hell, whether gentle or steep, until Jesus steps in.

I wish I took more time to hear people's stories, rather than assume I knew who they are based on the color of their skin, their clothing, their neighborhood, their education, their political associations, their church denomination, etc.

I am hopeful that my generalizations, my stereotypes, can be destroyed.  But only if I get to know the other

If we all get to know the others in our lives, maybe we would hurt each other less, and love each other more.  

If someone says, "I love God," and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen, how can he love God whom he has not seen?  And this is the commandment we have from Him: that he who loves God must love his brother also.  1 John 5:20-21