IN PRAISE OF AUNTS AND UNCLES
By Rev. Dr. Larry Delano Coleman
Monday, January 31, 2011
Practically all of us have them, or had them, at one time or another. We might even be “them” right now, ourselves.
But, what is the familial purpose, aunts and uncles—our mothers’ and fathers’ siblings; or, of their parents’ siblings? What is our familial purpose relative to our own nieces and nephews?
This question has intrigued me ever since I read the Old Testament book of ESTHER, and became acquainted with that book’s hero, Mordecai, Queen Esther’s uncle.
Mordecai is the archetypical uncle. He is wise. He is loving. He is pragmatic. He is courageous, and decisive. His orientation is family-first! Due to all of these virtues, and others, he successfully maneuvered his niece, Esther, into becoming the new Queen of Persia, consort of King Ahasuerus, King of Persia and Media, (known to the Greeks as “Xerxes” or “Artaxerxes”), who ruled over 127 provinces from India to Ethiopia. He replaced former Queen Vashti for insolently refusing to appear before him during a banquet at Susa with his court and military generals. http://nlt.scripturetext.com/esther/1.htm
After Esther becomes Queen, through Mordecai’s help, she, in turn, saves herself, her uncle, and their Jewish people from genocide by interceding with the King, risking her own life thereby, saying, ”I will go to the king even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish.” http://bible.cc/esther/4-16.htm http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Book_of_Esther
Broadly speaking of course, aunts and uncles are family. In that sense, they are somewhat akin to surrogate parents, endued with the authority to instruct, reprove or discipline, and conversely obligated with the duty to protect, provide and encourage.
Love and laughter, hugs and kisses, and tall tales and short quips are what I mostly associate with my aunts and uncles. Whenever we gather, there’s generally joy, food and festivities, whether planned or not. There are also boisterous recollections, generally of the type you can’t refute, because you were too young to remember; like, “Boy, when you were little, we had to switch them little legs all the time! You remember that?” Of course not! Your dumb silence would only engender more, tearful laughter.
Aunts and uncles are also good at supplying connective tissues in family history. One of my uncles told me where and how my parents first met, something I did not know and would have never asked. One of my aunts once told me that her father, my grandfather, was so revered for his piety and moral rectitude that his white, Mississippi, farming neighbors would have him to come by and pray for them during their illnesses, although he was black. This was something else I could not have known, but fully appreciate.
Aunts and uncles are praiseworthy. Some have had to “take in” and raise nieces and nephews following those children’s parents’ simultaneous deaths, or other calamities, as Mordecai did with Esther. In other instances, “aunt” and “uncle” was an honorific given to deserving folks who were no actual kin, but who were part of one’s extended family. Aunts and uncles may also provide occasional gifts and presents: Christmas, graduations, weddings, birthdays, etc.
Mainly, though, aunts and uncles produce cousins. Cousins are our lifetime playmates, friends, fellow travelers, family. If aunts and uncles produced no more than this, their job will have been well done!
Whether as Mordecai in the Book of Esther or as “Aunty Emily” in L. Frank Baum’s The Wizard of Oz, or as “Uncle Tom” in Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, aunts and uncles have played, and continue to play vital and praiseworthy roles in popular culture, and in our daily lives. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aunt_Em http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/toc/modeng/public/StoCabi.html
#30
Monday, January 31, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
SAMUEL YETTE: PHILOSOPHER-KING
SAMUEL YETTE: PHILOSOPHER-KING
Friday, January 28, 2011
By Larry Delano Coleman, Esq.
I was blessed to be a senior, sitting in a classroom in Alain Locke Hall, at Howard University’s, then brand-new, School of Communications in September 1972, when former Newsweek reporter, Samuel F. Yette, walked in the door to commence his inspiring career as a college professor.
Back then, I was also Editor-in-Chief of The Hilltop, the weekly student newspaper, founded by writer, Zora Neal Hurston, during her student days in the 1920s at Howard. Our new school’s Dean, Tony Brown, of PBS’s “Tony Brown’s Journal” had promised to vault our new school into the elite of journalism schools, so hiring Sam Yette, then the controversial author of The Choice: The Issue of Black Survival in America, seemed entirely consistent with that end.
Sam Yette was a great teacher, with a passion for learning. He was a stickler for punctuality and for preparation. Once weekly, we had a quiz, which he graded and recorded. In addition, we had reading assignments which required book reports on his desk. Reading the daily newspaper’s columnists, usually the Washington Post’s , was de rigueur, every day. Occasionally, they would visit us: William Raspberry, Bob Maynard, and the venerable Carl T. Rowan.
“Dr. Yette,” an honorific which our class bestowed upon him, as a token of our love, respect, and admiration, was “ole school” Tennessee, having graduated from Tennessee State University in Nashville. Hailing from Harriman, Tennessee, he fit the mold of Mordecai Wyatt Johnson, also from Tennessee, the first African American President of Howard, who was born in Paris, Tennessee. He taught us to strive to be the best, because, as blacks, we would encounter racial prejudice and discrimination in the field of journalism, as well as in the field of law, to which I aspired. He said two things which I yet recall: 1. “You can’t con an honest man;” and, 2. “There’s always room at the top.”
What I remember most, though, about the class, and what has endured with me till this day, is our reading of Plato’s Republic . Customarily wary of all things “Greek,” I was initially suspicious of the assignment, deeming it to be insufficiently “relevant” to a black university like Howard. But, that book, based on ancient Egyptian ideals of governance, was, and continues to be, an enduring treasure. I have applied its teachings in a variety of contexts; to myself, of course, and to the National Bar Association’s Law and Religion section, which I founded, in 2005, along with others. The “Guardians,” of whom Plato wrote, is the name which I gave to that section’s elected board of directors, who select the executive officers. Therefore, applying ancient Egyptian ideals, as gleaned from Plato, who was educated in Egypt, himself, to the National Bar Association, the first and largest association of black lawyers and judges, is part of the legacy of the great, Samuel Yette.
He was the “philosopher-king,” idealized in the Republic, and, which I have tried to emulate as an attorney, and now as a writer and African Methodist Episcopal Church preacher. From his tree fell mighty fruit, these nurture, and yet fall.
#30
Friday, January 28, 2011
By Larry Delano Coleman, Esq.
I was blessed to be a senior, sitting in a classroom in Alain Locke Hall, at Howard University’s, then brand-new, School of Communications in September 1972, when former Newsweek reporter, Samuel F. Yette, walked in the door to commence his inspiring career as a college professor.
Back then, I was also Editor-in-Chief of The Hilltop, the weekly student newspaper, founded by writer, Zora Neal Hurston, during her student days in the 1920s at Howard. Our new school’s Dean, Tony Brown, of PBS’s “Tony Brown’s Journal” had promised to vault our new school into the elite of journalism schools, so hiring Sam Yette, then the controversial author of The Choice: The Issue of Black Survival in America, seemed entirely consistent with that end.
Sam Yette was a great teacher, with a passion for learning. He was a stickler for punctuality and for preparation. Once weekly, we had a quiz, which he graded and recorded. In addition, we had reading assignments which required book reports on his desk. Reading the daily newspaper’s columnists, usually the Washington Post’s , was de rigueur, every day. Occasionally, they would visit us: William Raspberry, Bob Maynard, and the venerable Carl T. Rowan.
“Dr. Yette,” an honorific which our class bestowed upon him, as a token of our love, respect, and admiration, was “ole school” Tennessee, having graduated from Tennessee State University in Nashville. Hailing from Harriman, Tennessee, he fit the mold of Mordecai Wyatt Johnson, also from Tennessee, the first African American President of Howard, who was born in Paris, Tennessee. He taught us to strive to be the best, because, as blacks, we would encounter racial prejudice and discrimination in the field of journalism, as well as in the field of law, to which I aspired. He said two things which I yet recall: 1. “You can’t con an honest man;” and, 2. “There’s always room at the top.”
What I remember most, though, about the class, and what has endured with me till this day, is our reading of Plato’s Republic . Customarily wary of all things “Greek,” I was initially suspicious of the assignment, deeming it to be insufficiently “relevant” to a black university like Howard. But, that book, based on ancient Egyptian ideals of governance, was, and continues to be, an enduring treasure. I have applied its teachings in a variety of contexts; to myself, of course, and to the National Bar Association’s Law and Religion section, which I founded, in 2005, along with others. The “Guardians,” of whom Plato wrote, is the name which I gave to that section’s elected board of directors, who select the executive officers. Therefore, applying ancient Egyptian ideals, as gleaned from Plato, who was educated in Egypt, himself, to the National Bar Association, the first and largest association of black lawyers and judges, is part of the legacy of the great, Samuel Yette.
He was the “philosopher-king,” idealized in the Republic, and, which I have tried to emulate as an attorney, and now as a writer and African Methodist Episcopal Church preacher. From his tree fell mighty fruit, these nurture, and yet fall.
#30
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