The Vulture (15 page)

Afro: Brother Tommy Hall

July 28, 1968

Applause.

‘Thank you, Brother Bishop, for those kind words of introduction . . . Brothers and sisters, I’d like to thank each of you for coming out on a night such as this to hear us. As Brother Bishop told you, BAMBU
*
is a black organization that was founded in New York City almost a year ago. The aim of BAMBU is to develop a collective approach to the specific problems of black people. When we use the word “collective” we mean that black people can only solve their problems when they are unified in terms of thinking and acting.

‘Black people have to move to a level where they begin to push toward each other as brothers and sisters. This means that brothers from the Bronx cannot get into a hassle with brothers from Brooklyn. As Brother Malcolm has taught us, “We don’t catch hell because we are Baptist or Methodist, Mason or Elks, Democrats or Republicans.” In other words, we don’t catch hell because we are from Brooklyn or the Bronx. We catch hell because we are black.

‘Once you and I understand and accept this, then we may begin to take care of business collectively. Therefore it is necessary for us to do our homework. This means that we must begin to equate and liberate black minds. We in BAMBU have developed a program which speaks to this need. Not only does it speak to this need, but also it provides other means by which black people can deal with the system.

‘We feel that freedom will only be achieved through the
collective
efforts of black people. In other words, that we must develop our own schools and our own cultural values. In this way black people will have a knowledge of self and necessary skills to implement meaningful change for the future.

‘Therefore our objectives are: (1) to provide a school system for black children that will replace the present system. (2) To become involved in a politicization of the community to the extent that black people control the governmental offices where they are most directly concerned. (3) To create the necessary means by which people stop the racist police force that brutalizes us, and defend our women and children against the other racists that exist in this country . . .’

Applause.

‘(4) To foster a cultural revolution that will create new values for our family. (5) And to develop our own means for economic survival in America.’

Applause.

‘What we of BAMBU plan to do is the following. On August 7, that’s Monday week, we will open our fourth Community Center in Manhattan. The Community Center will be this very building you have met with us in this evening, and the children will be taught about their blackness. Black history, black literature, Swahili, and African music will be taught. This will be for the children between the ages of six and fifteen. In the evenings there will be cultural classes for the adult and young adults of you who would like to participate. Also, for the men, there will be classes in karate, judo, and riflery in the evenings and on weekends.’

I paused because at that moment I saw I.Q. get up and leave.

‘Now,’ I continued, ‘when we say police brutality and racist police force, just what, exactly, are we saying? We mean that we want to inhibit the molesting of our people. We are talking
about the lack of response and the downright indecency we receive when dealing with police. We are also talking about the physical abuse that black people have been known to receive in this city. We have categorized all of this under the heading “Police Responsibility,” but it ties in with our desire to politicize black people. Through our program people will realize that the police force is only the racist arm of a racist structure, that of the United States government . . . What other country in the world would have a man such as George Wallace receiving thousands of dollars from thousands of people? What other country would allow a state like Mississippi to exist within its boundaries when the reports of countless shootings, lynchings, burnings, and bombings have been reported with black people the victims of all of these atrocities? Where else but in the United States would a man have to demonstrate to get an opportunity to
buy
a hot dog? . . .’

Laughter and applause. ‘Tell it, brother!’

‘Where else but the United States is the highest court in the land listening to appeals on laws written two centuries ago, in order to discover whether it’s legal or not to go to school where you want to? . . . Brothers and sisters, this is a racist institution you and I live under. We of BAMBU are doing our best to prepare a program that will help black people better understand
who
the enemy is and how we can best attack the system and change it . . . Thank you, very much. If there are any questions, I will be glad to elaborate.’

Applause.

Brother Bishop got up. ‘Thank you, Brother Hall,’ the older man said to me. ‘I appreciate your suggestion that we hold our meeting here this evening. It’s not often that I have an opportunity to visit this part of town . . . As Brother Hall mentioned, on August 7 BAMBU will be opening a school here for our people, and he will be in charge of the activities in this area. Brother Hall is a recent graduate of Manhattan
Community College, where he majored in history. He will be teaching the history here for our youngsters . . . You know, it’s good to see the young brothers and sisters involved so heavily with the freedom of black people. It’s a warm feeling to go into our centers in Harlem and see the young brothers and sisters serving as instructors for our children, teaching them what it means to be black . . . You know, when I was young I was taught that to be black was to be inferior, to be something undesirable. It seems a shame to me that I would have passed so many years along before I saw the error of all this. I’m hoping that all of our youngsters will see the beauty of their blackness and stand up for it . . . That, of course, is the purpose of the group programs we have begun here in New York. We have six centers in Brooklyn, two in the Bronx, and three here in Manhattan. Each one of them full of young black minds. This program has recently acquired a secretary for the Chelsea Center. Sister Mason, will you stand up?’ A young girl stood near the back of the meeting room. ‘Sister Mason will take the names of the students you brothers and sisters might want to sign up. Our program in this area will be able to facilitate seventy children at least . . . Now, if you have any questions for Brother Hall, would you please raise your hands.’

A man to the right of the stage raised his hand and was recognized by the chair.

‘Brother Hall,’ the man said. ‘First of all, I would like to say that I enjoyed whut you had t’say very much . . . I wuz wond’rin’ if maybe you could go into the types of things you will be teaching our chil’ren.’

‘Certainly, brother,’ I said, standing. ‘We are raised in America under many contradictions and hypocrisies. America has always been known as the land of the free whites and the home of the slave. One of the greatest perpetuators of this type of hypocrisy was the Father of the country, George
Washington. How many of our children are aware of the fact that George Washington was a slaveowner and a criminal being sought by the English authorities? Not very many. And it is important that they know, because a lot of our children grow up idolizing George Washington – wanting to be like him, because he never told a lie! Never told a lie!’ I repeated. ‘He was living a lie! All George Washington represents in my mind is another Virginia racist who thought black people were ignorant savages. We must be careful not to let our children foster these false examples. All of this is part of the white “brainwashing” that has taken place in this country for so long.

‘How many of our children know of Nat Turner? How many know that the slaves were living the lives of miserable cattle in the South? The white man has had a way of depicting things through his use of the media to make things look as though the slaves were happy in the plantation and didn’t want the South to lose the war. How many know how badly the slaves were tortured and beaten? In 1831 Nat Turner led a slave rebellion in Virginia which resulted in the death of fifty-seven whites. He was a preacher, a man who walked from plantation to plantation spreading the word of God, and it was a sign from God that prompted him to burn and plunder and kill. There was no contentment for any other than the “house niggers” during this period. The black man in America has always been hounded and hunted, hungry, and abused . . .’

Applause.

‘How many of our children know that 400,000 black soldiers died in the War Between the States? Fighting on the side of the Union Army to do in the master that he reputedly loved so dearly? . . . No, my brothers and sisters, we have been brainwashed. We might unify our thoughts and our actions. If two and a half million Jews can demand their freedom and hold enough check to scare the hell out of the rest of the world,
surely twenty-two million or more black Americans can fight for their rights. These are the type of things I will try to convey to our children.’

Applause.

‘Brother Hall, how old are you?’ A young lady of approximately my age was asking the question, and the others in the audience laughed.

‘I’m twenty,’ I told her.

‘I was wondering primarily about your background and qualifications.’

‘I graduated in June from Manhattan Community College as a history major. I hold two jobs, the most prominent of which is my work with BAMBU.’

‘In other words, you condone a section of the education we receive from white people?’

‘I’m glad you asked that,’ I told her. ‘In every great revolution there have been educated men at the top. Mao went to a university. Ché went to a university. Fidel Castro and Ho Chi Minh were educated men. In this country some of our most eminent men are educated at the university level. Dr King, Ron Karenga, Stokely Carmichael, to name a few. These men were not brainwashed during their stay at their schools. They came out with more ideas about how we as a people may better combat the system. I think that it is necessary for us to learn the white man’s skills. That applies to science, math, engineering, all of the major fields where we may profit and grow financially as a people.

‘I think that it was important for me to gather facts while discovering how history is taught the wrong way, before I came and offered to teach what is more than history, but truth.’

‘Thank you,’ she said.

There didn’t seem to be any more questions, so Brother Bishop stood up and adjourned the meeting. As the people began to file toward the exits, the young girl who had asked
me the last question came up from behind me and touched my shoulder.

‘Hello,’ I said.

‘I’d, uh, like to ask a few more questions, but I didn’t think I should try and hold up the group. Do you have a minute?’

I nodded and turned to excuse myself from Brother Bishop and a few of the older brothers, who would probably have discussed issues for hours. They nodded and smiled when they saw the young lady behind me. I put on my raincoat and followed her toward the door.

‘I haven’t eaten,’ I said. ‘Would you like something?’

‘Maybe a cup of coffee or a Coke,’ she said. ‘Uh, what I wanted to talk to you about concerned something rather personal. I hope I wouldn’t be bothering you.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘No bother.’

We walked from the third floor to the first and then out onto 23rd Street. The rain had stopped, and the dampness left a pleasant smell in the city streets. As we walked toward 23rd and Eighth Avenue, where I usually ate, I took a closer look at the girl. She was about my age and well developed. Her hair was done in a short afro, and it topped about one hundred and ten pounds. Her mind was evidently elsewhere while I was taking inventory.

‘By the way, I don’t know your name,’ I said.

‘Natalie . . . and yours is Hall?’

‘Tommy Hall,’ I said.

‘I’m Natalie Walker.’ We shook hands.

Natalie and I walked into the coffee shop just as the rain started again. We took a booth in the corner facing the only entrance. I took her coat and coaxed her to look at the menu while I selected a couple of records at the jukebox.

After we had ordered, she began to talk a bit more freely.

‘I’m going through a similar situation to what you were discussing,’ she said.

‘In what respect?’

‘In terms of education. I’m a student at CCNY, but I don’t want to stay in school here. They’re not teaching anything relevant. I told my mother I had to go to a black school and enjoy some of the things that young black people are doing in this country, but she won’t listen. She absolutely refuses to let me transfer or stop school.’

‘What are her reasons?’

‘She says I need to be near home. She thinks all of these student uprisings will get me in trouble if I go to a black school with the type of black curriculum that I’m interested in.’

‘I agree with her in a way.’

‘What?’

‘I agree that she needs you close to home.’

‘That’s not what I said. That’s not what she said!’

‘That’s what’s happening, though. She doesn’t want to lose you to beliefs contrary to those of her own. Now, she was a follower of Dr King, is that right?’ Natalie nodded. ‘And you talk about Rap and Stokely, is this right?’ She nodded again. ‘In your mother’s eyes she’s protecting you. She believes that if she can keep you close at home, keep her finger on your pulse, that whenever you start talking a lot of that black stuff, she’ll be around to remind you of all the fine things Dr King did in the movement.’ I paused. ‘Because most of the older black people think that this current trend toward being black and expressing your blackness is only a fad anyway.’

‘What do you think?’

‘I think that black people are waking up after a long hibernation, and after they do their homework, we’ll be ready to make some changes in the system.’

The waitress came up with our food. ‘A toasted corn muffin and coffee for the young lady, two hamburgers, French fries, and coffee for the gentleman. Will that be all, sir?’

‘That’s all, thank you,’ I said.

‘Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,’ Natalie said.