If the Hat Don’t Fit by Kalamu

If the Hat Don’t Fit by Kalamu


ChickenBones: A Journal

for  Literary & Artistic African-American  Themes



Being a man in modern American has been a position of privilege and dominance vis-a-vis women. This is the case regardless

of the feelings and actions of individual women and men that may vary from the norm of female/male relationships. It is this

hard fact of life, this business as usual, that is rightly being criticized.



Books by Kalamu ya Salaam

The Magic of JuJu: An Appreciation of the Black Arts Movement  /   360: A Revolution of Black Poets

Everywhere Is Someplace Else: A Literary Anthology  /  From A Bend in the River: 100 New Orleans Poets

Our Music Is No Accident   /  What Is Life: Reclaiming the Black Blues Self

My Story My Song (CD)

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If the Hat Don’t Fit,

How Come We’re Wearing It?

An Appreciation of Women Writing


If the hat don’t fit how come we’re wearing it is not a question but a statement. When African American men question the contemporary writings of African American women, they are not really questioning aesthetics, politics, form, structure, or content. What is really evidenced is a pained reaction: a statement of hurt, perhaps envy, and certainly an automatic defense of the walling wounded, male ego.

Sometimes when the sisters turn up the heat, we brothers retreat into sullen silence, pull the wool over our eyes, wrap our ears in mufflers, and don huge fur caps which totally cover our heads (even in summer). We do all of this allegedly to “protect” ourselves from the bad weather. But what bad weather? Do we really need to be protected from the writings of African American women? Many men do not even want to deal with the writings of contemporary African American women m general, and writers like Shange, Walker, Lorde, Morrison specifically.

Like swingers stumbling on the rhythms of bebop, like a self-proclaimed alto saxophonist who has just figured out Bird’s (Charlie Parker’s) “Donna Lee” being confronted with the white plastic, smoldering bent notes of Ornette Coleman’s “Lonely Woman,” like anyone comfortably bound in tradition then confronted with a future which is difficult to fathom, we blame the drummer when we cannot catch the rhythm. The reality is that we just do not understand what our sisters are writing nor why. Moreover, we really do not want to go through the changes of learning how to read this music. “Besides,” we think to ourselves, “what is there to gain from understanding a difficult woman when we can find easy ones?” For us “easy” means a feminine voice that is content to be a period at the end of our sentences rather than a troublesome question mark challenging us.

Sisters Are Through Blowing All the Things Men Are

No mailer how hip bop was, there was still much more music left to be made. Music not only new but also different. Like Trane, tired of playing “All the Things You Are” over and over again with only minute melodic variations, many sisters have abandoned the old song forms and are sounding out new song forms. “Favorite Things” no longer sounds like anything we recognize.

When the new music hit, a lot of the establishment could not hear it. “Antijazz” is what they called Dolphy and Trane. An immensely important artifact like “Meditations” was rated “no stars” in Downbeat by a critic with lead in his ears. Likewise, brothers close their minds to sisters’ songs, complaining about the noise and crying about how bad the sisters write about us.

For example, somebody always brings up Ntozake Shange’s image of the brother dropping the baby out the window. Dudes be enraged, saying Shange is a menace to men, a divisive force in the Black community who pits the women against the men. These same brothers rarely utter one word against Wright’s Native Son. They do not mention how Bigger took a big brick and bashed Bessie’s brains out ’cause she–Black and female and in his arms when he got mad–had nerve enough to love him. Cats do not mention Trueblood in Invisible Man, unashameded of his acts of incest. Don’t mention the male character in Baraka’s play Madheart, the character who slaps the Black woman and beats her to the stage floor as part of her “revolutionary” instruction. I mean, what have women looked like in much of what we have written?

The writings of women are easily understandable as a counterweight to the imbalance of past literature. But actually, these new songs are more than the past, much more than simply reactions to the traditional AABA popular song form (“A” being male, “B” being female). When Ornette cut “The Shape of Things to Come,” he wasn’t trying to rewrite history. Rather, he was shaping the future. Ditto what the sisters are doing. The past is gone. Regardless of how many of us may want to hold on to out-moded ideas, since the sisters blew through with their new songs, things will never be the same. Never. And thank goodness!

It is both dishonest and untrue to say that the “negative male” characters presented by sisters are atypical or unrealistic.

Traditionally, men have been socialized to demonstrate and condone anti-female behaviors and attitudes. Through its persuasive and pervasive media network, the men who run this society constantly reinforce a negative an/or subordinate view of women. With or without knowledge of the social forces at work, every man who is not actively struggling against sexism is either active promoting or passively supporting sexism just by accepting the status quo.

Being a man in modern American has been a position of privilege and dominance vis-a-vis women. This is the case regardless of the feelings and actions of individual women and men that may vary from the norm of female/male relationships. It is this hard fact of life, this business as usual, that is rightly being criticized. Bigger and all similar-acting brothers are indefensibly  wrong in their social relationships with women.

Objectively, if some of us are not Bigger-like in our social relationships, why should we feel any heat about the negative portraits of Bigger-ish behavior? To assert that most men are not like Bigger avoids confronting the reality of day-to-day life: most men have the potential to be Bigger-like, and this society traditionally encourages such behavior.

Upon close study, it is clear that women’s male characters are written far more realistically than men’s female characters. Undoubtedly, it is only our male blindness, defensiveness, and possibly chauvinistic self-interest that prevents us from understanding and accepting the figurative and literal validity of male characters portrayed in the contemporary works of African American female writers.

If the cap don’t fit’ then why are we wearing it? Why are we insisting that there is something so wrong with conscious and critical women writing true-to-life stories about how men routinely treat women in our culture? 

In African American literature of the 60s, it was common to find the image of women as “mirrors” of “their men.” Now that the mirror talks and says what she sees, all of a sudden we are pronouncing the image distorted and contending that the mirror is blemished. Have we men ever considered that perhaps the blemish lies not in the mirror, but in the subject, in the male?

This is not to say that the works of women are perfect in both execution and content. There is much to criticize, but the fact that African American men have colluded with the sexist status quo remains true. Generally, we men materially and psychologically have advanced ourselves via male domination of women. Women who point out and criticize this central truth can hardly be accused of hating men and promoting divisiveness. There is nothing wrong with criticizing one’s conditions.

Most men are not ready to take the cap off; even though some of us are willing to chivalrously “tip” our caps to those women whom we recognize as “ladies.” Fortunately, women are through smiling at the emperor’s old cap.

Like Toni C. Said, “Nobody Asked You to Like It”

Some of us men are slick. Inside of certain relationships we remove our caps; but otherwise, we hold our caps in our laps and reserve the right to put them on whenever we feel like doing so. We only condemn certain “female” writers, the ones we consider “too out” (i.e., mainly any woman who is not publicly heterosexual and preferably in a relationship with a Black man). We become liberals on the issue of sexism. We oppose raw sexism but remain unwilling to deal with the subtler but nonetheless destructive aspects of our own chauvinistic behavior.

But it is not enough for us men to move pass a vagina fixation. It is not enough to exorcise the “dog” in us. We must also move past a breast fixation. Too many of us want every woman to be our personal nurturer, offering us her breast We want women to coddle and pet us like cute puppies.

Divorce is up. Rape is up. Pornography is up. Wife-beating and other forms of battering are on the rise. With this reality of the world facing African American women, why should any man expect women to write pleasing portraits of us? Besides which, how would any rational woman define a “pleasing” male?

Whether we men want to see it or not, this world is terribly violent toward women–forty-eight hours a day. Did you see that flick? Did you see how the women were presented? You cannot go to the movies today without seeing a woman shot, raped, fucked-over, or socked in the jaw with a fast-swinging male’s fist breaking her lip to the accompanying applause of an audience that  emotionally agrees with artistic-misogyny. In A Boy and His Dog, a woman was actually eaten (for survival’s sake of course), and that film was set in the year 2000-plus. According to Hollywood, 20 or so years from now, men and dogs will be casually cannibalizing women.

Look at life through the eyes of a woman and you will see an arsenal of weapons arrayed against you and potential violence from every male you meet. A daughter moving through puberty cannot even trust her father as she steps out the bathtub; she better keep the door locked. Better believe it; momma’s top incisor tooth ain’t loose ’cause she bit on a bone while eating a steak.

And when it ain’t violence, it’s sex. Raw. Unrealistic. Heavy breathing from the radio, bump and grind on the television, and triple Xs (XXX) outselling everything on cable. Imagine life as a woman. Then write it like you see it, like you feel it, like it is. Guess how it will come out.

In the final analysis, women writers would not be accurately dealing with their condition if unreconstructed (men who refuse to admit their sexist socialization and are actively anti-feminist in their modes of behavior) males “liked” and applauded the bulk of contemporary writings by women. Just as we did not expect racist Whites to like the Black Arts movement, no one should expect male chauvinists to like anti-sexist writing, even when it is authored by a male, but especially when authored by a female. Most African American women writing today have long ago come to that conclusion. Both the validity of their work and their own will and ability to continue working is in no way dependent on men liking or approving of women’s literature.

But Is It Jazz?

Moreover, it does not really matter what most of us think. Like the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians playing to an audience of eight in some hall on Chicago’s southside, or Coltrane ascending with Pharaoh even as die-h hard fans walked out ’cause they couldn’t dig it’ the hard fact is that our sisters are going to keep writing.

Contrary to a popular belief, men do not own writing. We men cannot stop women from writing, nor can we dictate content or censor them without becoming Black male fascists. The very act of wielding our censorial whips and chains suffocates our own humanness in a box inaccurately marked “mankind”–a box that inexorably becomes an auction block and trading station, from which men speculate on the commodities of women’s lives, loves, and dreams. We cannot close the mouths of women without first closing our hearts, minds, and spirits. To stop women, we must first stop ourselves from being human. No human being loves oppression. Brave humans fight for freedom. And any person worthy of being called a man would fan the flames of women’s struggle to liberate themselves from the tyranny of male chauvinism.

When men say certain women writers/editors “have to be stopped,” all we’re doing is repeating the drawing-room conversation of plantation owners whom we serve and, unfortunately, too often imitate. The bourgeois–those who possess the major productive forces in this society–always fear any new phenomenon that they do not own or control. In many cases we reject the writings of women not just because we don’t like the content, but also because we can’t control it. Besides, like a slave rebellion on a nearby farm, this thing could get out of hand and exert a bad influence on our women. Harriet Tubman’s coming!

If anything, we ought to encourage sister writers. Let’s water this new literature, herald its coming, and look forward to a wider variety of vegetables and fruit. Let’s look forward to a far nicer, spicier, and yes, healthier meal than the bogus bread, blood, meat, sugar, and salt diet that most of us imbibe and chase down with alcoholic drinks.

Yes, the new music was really music. Alvin Ayler and Archie Shepp are Great Black Music, Aflican Diasporan aural creators using our ear canals to clear our heads. They could blow the standards but chose to set new standards. Our music and our lives are better because they blew what they knew to be real, regardless of what the experts had to say.

Similarly, our lives are better because Toni Cade Bambara,

Sonia Sanchez, Mari Evans, Jayne Cortez, Alexis DeVeaux, Alice Walker, Maya_Angelou, Ntozake Shange, and others are working literature into new areas. Their human geographics not only describe us, but also, and more importantly, women’s writings decisively contribute to the voicing of our collective reality. Their voices specifically include previously omitted parts of our history, present, and future. Rather than describing to others/aliens what we are like, African American women are voicing the Black experience, and dialoguing with the folk-field folk, that is, those brave enough to run for it (“it” being hard freedom in the hills).

At the fifth Howard University Writer’s Conference, I spoke about what I believe is the wonderful development of women writers. Part of what I said bears reiteration:

[I]t is my perception and my belief that much of the most creative and politically-important work happening in current Black literature is being authored by women. It may seem that there are more women being published. Overall, the work of talented Black women is more interesting, confronts our conditions in more creative ways, asks more questions, proposes more alternatives to the status quo than do the works of men.

In my opinion, Alice Walker’s The Color Purple, Toni Bambara’s The Salt Eaters, Alexis DeVeaux’s book on Billie Holiday, and a number of other examples of fiction by Black females are much imore inventive than recent published fiction by Black male writers.

Why do I believe this? First, because more of our talented male writers have been, shall we say, “gainfully employed” in status quo positions by colleges, corporations, foundations, and government agencies. More men have received grants, fellowships, and the like. For many Black men, it is no longer in our interest to sink the ship of state because many of us have been granted a berth aboard the U.S.S. Status quo. Sure, our security aboard ship is shaky, but the point is that we are there, not in the water.

This is a generalization, but I think it is a generalization that corresponds in many important ways to our current reality vis-a-vis our creative writings.

In the context of Black literature, women and those who are sensitive to women are offering critiques of society that stretch beyond class and race, and this stretching is both healthy and necessary. Female authors are making these important creative strides because they are reacting both to our people’s oppression and exploitation in general and to their own particular oppression and exploitation as women. In other words, they are fulfilling their historic mission as articulated by Franz Fanon.

We Got to Move

Women writers are not aliens, nor should their presence be surprising. Women writers are truly our colleagues, and we ought to be their comrades. We ought to share struggle and space with them. To do this, we must leave the estates of our male mansions. We must leave the familiar but alien colonial capitals and journey into the bush of ourselves.

Of course, the bush is no easy place to go, especially for of us who have grwn accustomed to the creature comforts of the big cities.  The bush can be dangerous, and, at times, unmerciful. Yet, the bush is also liberating. The bush is the internal terrain for which we alone are responsible. It is the hearts and imaginations of our people; the now deformed and malnourished center of our existence, which requires not only discovery but also therapy in order to restore whole communities.

Going into the bush requires sacrifice; you cannot ride in air-conditioned splendor. Why go after ephemeral and uncertain freedom in the hills when there are certain comforts to be had beneath the reign of our historic oppressors? The answer is simple: our future is in the bush; the plantation will not survive. We have no choice. Either save ourselves or perish with our oppressors. 

Essentially, this is what sisters are saying. What do they gain by remaining the wives, bitches, and whores of men’s dreams? Look at the reality: many of our sisters are living alone with their children anyway. The social landscape is not improving. That is why more and more of them are running for the hills, running for their lives. And we should be on the road with them, fleeing an oppressive past, escaping to an arduous but liberated future.

Our sisters are not hiding from us, unless, of course, we hold a chain in our hand and are scouts and slave-catchers for the old regime. Our sisters are not begging, requesting, pleading, nor even any longer willing to cross the burning sand and softly present their case at our feet like peasants petitioning a governor. From here on out, if we are to talk, it will be as equals. Dialogue with Black women can only take place when and if we decide that we are willing to leave the big house and live in the hills. Jamaican Maroon leader, Nanny, catches British bullets in her teeth. No way is she going to listen to the bullshit of some assimilatto who refers to himself and the establishment as “we.”

The women are not waiting for us. They gone. And that’s one of the reasons why much of their literature is so interesting.

Source:  What Is Life: Reclaiming the Black Blues Self


Kalamu ya Salaam has traveled extensively as a journalist, activist and arts producer:  Ghana, Tanzania and Zanzibar, Barbados, Brazil, Cuba, Guadaloupe, Haiti, Jamaica, Martinique, Nicaragua, St. Lucia, Suriname, Trinidad & Tobago, Korea, Japan, The People’s Republic Of China, England, France and Germany.

Contact Information: Kalamu ya Salaam/ Box 52723/New Orleans, LA 70152-2723 

Phone: (504) 581-2963 /Fax: (504) 581-5446/ email:

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Ella Baker and the Black Freedom Movement

 A Radical Democratic Vision

By Barbara Ransby

One of the most important African American leaders of the twentieth century and perhaps the most influential woman in the civil rights movement, Ella Baker (1903-1986) was an activist whose remarkable career spanned fifty years and touched thousands of lives. A gifted grassroots organizer, Baker shunned the spotlight in favor of vital behind-the-scenes work that helped power the black freedom struggle. She was a national officer and key figure in the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, one of the founders of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, and a prime mover in the creation of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee.

Baker made a place for herself in predominantly male political circles that included W. E. B. Du Bois, Thurgood Marshall, and Martin Luther King Jr., all the while maintaining relationships with a vibrant group of women, students, and activists both black and white.

In this deeply researched biography, Barbara Ransby chronicles Baker’s long and rich political career as an organizer, an intellectual, and a teacher, from her early experiences in depression-era Harlem to the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s. Ransby shows Baker to be a complex figure whose radical, democratic worldview, commitment to empowering the black poor, and emphasis on group-centered, grassroots leadership set her apart from most of her political contemporaries. Beyond documenting an extraordinary life, the book paints a vivid picture of the African American fight for justice and its intersections with other progressive struggles worldwide across the twentieth century. UNC Press

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Who Was Ella Baker—Ella Baker began her involvement with the NAACP in 1940. She worked as a field secretary and then served as director of branches from 1943 until 1946. Inspired by the historic bus boycott in Montgomery, Alabama, in 1955, Baker co-founded the organization In Friendship to raise money to fight against Jim Crow Laws in the deep South. In 1957, Baker moved to Atlanta to help organize Martin Luther King’s new organization, the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC). She also ran a voter registration campaign called the Crusade for Citizenship.

On February 1, 1960, a group of black college students from North Carolina A&T University refused to leave a Woolworth’s lunch counter in Greensboro, North Carolina where they had been denied service. Baker left the SCLC after the Greensboro sit-ins. She wanted to assist the new student activists because she viewed young, emerging activists as a resource and an asset to the movement. Miss Baker organized a meeting at Shaw University for the student leaders of the sit-ins in April 1960. From that meeting, the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC)  was born.

Adopting the Gandhian theory of nonviolent direct action, SNCC members joined with activists from the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE) to organize in the 1961 Freedom Rides. In 1964 SNCC helped create Freedom Summer, an effort to focus national attention on Mississippi’s racism and to register black voters. . . .

With Ella Baker’s guidance and encouragement, SNCC became one of the foremost advocates for human rights in the country. Ella Baker once said, “This may only be a dream of mine, but I think it can be made real.” Her audacity to dream big is a cornerstone of our philosophy. Her influence was reflected in the nickname she acquired: “Fundi,” a Swahili word meaning a person who teaches a craft to the next generation. Baker continued to be a respected and influential leader in the fight for human and civil rights until her death on December 13, 1986, her 83rd birthday.—EllaBakerCenter

*   *   *   *   *’s 25 Best Selling Books

For July 1st through August 31st 2011  


#1 – Justify My Thug by Wahida Clark #2 – Flyy Girl by Omar Tyree #3 – Head Bangers: An APF Sexcapade by Zane #4 – Life Is Short But Wide by J. California Cooper #5 – Stackin’ Paper 2 Genesis’ Payback by Joy King #6 – Thug Lovin’ (Thug 4) by Wahida Clark #7 – When I Get Where I’m Going by Cheryl Robinson #8 – Casting the First Stone by Kimberla Lawson Roby #9 – The Sex Chronicles: Shattering the Myth by Zane

#10 – Covenant: A Thriller  by Brandon Massey

#11 – Diary Of A Street Diva  by Ashley and JaQuavis

#12 – Don’t Ever Tell  by Brandon Massey

#13 – For colored girls who have considered suicide  by Ntozake Shange

#14 – For the Love of Money : A Novel by Omar Tyree

#15 – Homemade Loves  by J. California Cooper

#16 – The Future Has a Past: Stories by J. California Cooper

#17 – Player Haters by Carl Weber

#18 – Purple Panties: An Anthology by Sidney Molare

#19 – Stackin’ Paper by Joy King

#20 – Children of the Street: An Inspector Darko Dawson Mystery by Kwei Quartey

#21 – The Upper Room by Mary Monroe

#22 – Thug Matrimony  by Wahida Clark

#23 – Thugs And The Women Who Love Them by Wahida Clark

#24 – Married Men by Carl Weber

#25 – I Dreamt I Was in Heaven – The Rampage of the Rufus Buck Gang by Leonce Gaiter


#1 – Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention by Manning Marable #2 – Confessions of a Video Vixen by Karrine Steffans #3 – Dear G-Spot: Straight Talk About Sex and Love by Zane #4 – Letters to a Young Brother: MANifest Your Destiny by Hill Harper #5 – Peace from Broken Pieces: How to Get Through What You’re Going Through by Iyanla Vanzant #6 – Selected Writings and Speeches of Marcus Garvey by Marcus Garvey #7 – The Ebony Cookbook: A Date with a Dish by Freda DeKnight #8 – The Isis Papers: The Keys to the Colors by Frances Cress Welsing #9 – The Mis-Education of the Negro by Carter Godwin Woodson

#10 – John Henrik Clarke and the Power of Africana History  by Ahati N. N. Toure

#11 – Fail Up: 20 Lessons on Building Success from Failure by Tavis Smiley

#12 –The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness by Michelle Alexander

#13 – The Black Male Handbook: A Blueprint for Life by Kevin Powell

#14 – The Other Wes Moore: One Name, Two Fates by Wes Moore

#15 – Why Men Fear Marriage: The Surprising Truth Behind Why So Many Men Can’t Commit  by RM Johnson

#16 – Black Titan: A.G. Gaston and the Making of a Black American Millionaire by Carol Jenkins

#17 – Brainwashed: Challenging the Myth of Black Inferiority by Tom Burrell

#18 – A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose by Eckhart Tolle

#19 – John Oliver Killens: A Life of Black Literary Activism by Keith Gilyard

#20 – Alain L. Locke: The Biography of a Philosopher by Leonard Harris

#21 – Age Ain’t Nothing but a Number: Black Women Explore Midlife by Carleen Brice

#22 – 2012 Guide to Literary Agents by Chuck Sambuchino #23 – Chicken Soup for the Prisoner’s Soul by Tom Lagana #24 – 101 Things Every Boy/Young Man of Color Should Know by LaMarr Darnell Shields

#25 – Beyond the Black Lady: Sexuality and the New African American Middle Class  by Lisa B. Thompson

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The Black Arts MovementLiterary Nationalism in the 1960s and 1970s

By James Edward Smethurst 

Emerging from a matrix of Old Left, black nationalist, and bohemian ideologies and institutions, African American artists and intellectuals in the 1960s coalesced to form the Black Arts Movement, the cultural wing of the Black Power Movement. In this comprehensive analysis, James Smethurst examines the formation of the Black Arts Movement and demonstrates how it deeply influenced the production and reception of literature and art in the United States through its negotiations of the ideological climate of the Cold War, decolonization, and the civil rights movement.

Taking a regional approach, Smethurst examines local expressions of the nascent Black Arts Movement, a movement distinctive in its geographical reach and diversity, while always keeping the frame of the larger movement in view. The Black Arts Movement, he argues, fundamentally changed American attitudes about the relationship between popular culture and “high” art and dramatically transformed the landscape of public funding for the arts.—Publisher, University of North Carolina Press

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Visions of a Liberated Future

Black Arts Movement Writings

By Larry Neal

“What we have been trying to arrive at is some kind of synthesis of the writer’s function as an oppressed individual and a creative artist,” states Neal (1937-1981), a writer, editor, educator and activist prominent in the Black Arts movement of the 1960s and ’70s. Articulate, highly charged essays about the black experience examine the views of his predecessors–musicians and political theorists as well as writers–continually weighing artistic achievement against political efficacy. While the essays do not exclude any readers, Neal’s drama, poetry and fiction are more limited in their form of address, more explicitly directed to the oppressed. The poems are particularly intense in their protest: “How many of them / . . . have been made to /prostitute their blood / to the merchants of war.” Rhythmic and adopting the repetitive structure of music, they capture the “blues in our mothers’ voices / which warned us / blues people bursting out.” Commentaries by Neal’s peers, Amiri Baraka, Stanley Crouch, Charles Fuller and Jayne Cortez, introduce the various sections.—Publishers Weekly

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The White Masters of the World

From The World and Africa, 1965

By W. E. B. Du Bois

W. E. B. Du Bois’ Arraignment and Indictment of White Civilization (Fletcher)

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Ancient African Nations

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Negro Digest / Black World

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The Death of Emmett Till by Bob Dylan  The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll  Only a Pawn in Their Game

Rev. Jesse Lee Peterson Thanks America for Slavery

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The Journal of Negro History issues at Project Gutenberg

The Haitian Declaration of Independence 1804  / January 1, 1804 — The Founding of Haiti 

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ChickenBones Store






update  5 March 2012





ome  Kalamu ya Salaam Table

Related files: Queen Nzinga’s Army  Impotence Need Not Be Permanent  If the Hat Don’t Fit   Murder of Amilcar Cabral   Poetic Journey  Amilcar  Cabral Bio  Murder of Amilca Cabral  Island

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