His name was Dion.
Seemed not unlike any other monotionious (sp) day in the group. It doesnt seem that we had been in the Morgan Yacht building that long. For myself I was still mesmorized by the garage doors on either side of the group, over on the 4th phase side. They always made such a sound when being opened/closed. I remember feeling like it was something special to have the doors open, as if we had done something particularly worthy of fresh air. I remember them calling for those that had "responcibilities" so that they could "watch" the door. But of course, the door wasnt what needed watching....it was the group. Not long after we had moved to the Morgan Yacht Building I recall the entire first row bum rushed one of the doors in one swift, planned and seemingly calculated move...For those of us not involved in the mass exidous, we sat in utter amazment. Chairs...or delapadated church pews were splintered as they over turned being trambled by "Door Keeps" and those fleeing the scene. Those of us left in the group had a sense of exhileration for our brehteren (as I recall it was all males that bolted for the door). At the same time there was a deepening sence of chagrin. Those of us who had been there for a considerable time knew that the doors would more than likely forever closed and the luxury of having the rolling doors open would be lost forever.
I digress...
As standard procedure, some lame staff memember came out and asked if anyone knew Dion. To my memory, none raised thier hands. The staff shrugged thier shoulders and returned to the intake area and the mundane group went on.
As the group ended and the chourus began to resonante thru the bare concrete walls and fiberglass coated floors, the door to the staff offices opened and immediately staff and 5th phazers yelled/demanded "Eyes Front"....but it was tooo late. Many of us had already seen the first black male (In Straight Inc.) being escorted into the front of the group for a formal introduction.
Dion seemed to be a good natured soul, infact, during his short stay (or my short memory) I don't recall him ever acting out. But what has wrang thru my remaining memory cells was how he was treated like a court jester at best. Liz Cassidy (as was Helen Petermen) was one of the main contributors to having Dion jump thru hoops....for "fun"
What kinda hoops, one might ask. There was a song the group sang for a long long time called "Shortning Bread"...you know the one...Mammy's lil baby loves shortnin shortnin, Mammy's lil baby loves shortning bread. Least I forget, as I burn my green leafy substance, there was another song, even more inflammatory, IMHO. "Pick a Bale of Cotton"........Consider the words to that song for a moment....
Interesting that these seemingly "harmless songs" had thier roots buryied deep in the heart of oppression, essentually Slave songs.
Liz Cassidy/Ms.Pete, would call Dion by name, have him stand up and either where he stood, or make him come to the front of the group and sing these songs. It was like she had her own lil pet mandingo, some lil black minstrel for her amuzement...oh, and of course the groups morale....cuz it always cheered the group up to see Dion not only sing the songs, but to act them out, mimicing the words which he sang.
Perhaps he was young and didnt realize what was taking place. On the other hand, maybe Dion knew he was in a bad bad place and if it meant demeaning himself and his culture, he would do what ever it took to endure.
As my anniversary nears, feelings/emotions/memories dont come to me in multiple waves. Yet, they come to me in a single wave and persist untill I either talk and spill my guts on ears, that with all good intentions have no posssibility of understanding...or I ride those waves out, that may take weeks/months to subside. Both methods seem to work well for me, other times they dont.
Dion is one of those waves!
