Quotes and Readings In Honor of Margaret Walker
Alice Walker (and there’s no relation there, that I know of) mentioned in Temple of My Familiar, that one of the characters would have these odd moments of serendipity. Like, she could be thinking of something then a book will fall off the bookshelf, landing on the exact page that talks about what she was thinking about. That’s kinda how I met Margaret Walker too. The details are in this two-minute video:
She Knew Who She Was
On Being Female, Black, and Free was the first of hers that I read (and adored). It’s no longer in print, so whatever copies are out there is it. Fortunately, I got one. Here’s one of my favorite passages from it:
When I was younger I considered myself an emancipated woman, freed from the shackles of mind and body…, but never would I call myself the liberated woman in today’s vernacular; never the bohemian; never the completely free spirit living in free love; never the lesbian sister; always believing in moderation and nothing to excess; never defying convention, never radical enough to defy tradition; not wanting to be called conservative but never moving beyond the bounds of what I consider the greatest liberty within law, the greatest means of freedom within control. I have lived out my female destiny within the bonds of married love. For me, it could not have been otherwise. In the same way I refuse to judge others, for if tolerance is worth anything, love is worth everything. Everyone should dare to love.
I am therefore fundamentally and contradictorily three things. I am religious almost to the point of orthodoxy…; I am radical but I wish to see neither the extreme radical left nor the radical right in control. And I am like the astrological description of a crab, a Cancer—quick to retreat into my shell when hurt or attacked. I will wobble around circuitously to find another way out when the way I have chosen has been closed to me. I believe absolutely in the power of my black mind to create, to write, to speak, to witness truth, and to be heart.
Margaret Walker, On Being, Black, Female, and Free, pg. 8
Her Parents Set Her Up For Success
They talked to her and valued her opinion. Their discussions were philosophical and included poetry, which I’m personally learning to appreciate more. Her dad gifted her a notebook to write her poems in but joked that this was just a phase. Her family moved from Birmingham to New Orleans when she was about nine. When Langston Hughes came through on tour, they took her to see him recite poetry. She showed him some of her poems and he carried ’em up the ladder, got it published, and she won some awards from it. Her dad circled back and admitted that he was wrong; it wasn’t a phase. All of that affirmed the importance of investing in your children intellectually and creatively, and you ain’t gotta spend a lot of money to do it.
Don’t Rush Greatness
Margaret Walker’s first novel, Jubilee, took her 30 years to write. And it’s one of my favorite books. I wasn’t even halfway through it and knew that it was special in a Their Eyes Were Watching God kinda way. In a The Color Purple kinda way. It’s based on her great-grandmother’s life. Margaret’s grandmother told her these stories. She spent 30 years doing extra research to make it as authentic as possible.
Family Drama Ain’t New
The main character, Vyry, is born into slavery, lives through Emancipation, and navigates Reconstruction. So much of what I wondered about that era is covered in Jubilee. My absolute favorite part—and this is a spoiler alert—was how passionate her first marriage was to a free man. He wanted her to runaway with him, but she wasn’t successful. She waited for him after Emancipation, then moved on after a handful of years and remarried a man who had been a field hand. There was plenty of respect in that marriage, but little passion. Then, one day, her first husband, who she was told had died, pulled up the house, looking and smelling good, wearing gold jewelry, and talking all educated. He stayed a couple days. She had the choice to leave with him, and her second husband gave her space to choose. She chose to stay put. He took their son back to Georgia with him, but not outta bitterness. It made the most sense. Vyry and Innis (and her second husband) couldn’t control him anymore. Long story, he was just like his daddy, but that wasn’t clear ’til his daddy showed up.
Here’s a snippet of me reading a part about Vyry gathering herbs and explaining what they were for. An enslaver had been poisoned, so white folk were super paranoid. I’ve heard of and used a few of these herbs myself, so I appreciated this quick lesson on medicinal plants:
A Long Life For Black Women is Possible
Margaret Walker died of breast cancer, which sucked, but she was 83. That’s way longer than too many of my other favorite Black women writers and activists. We’re dealing with everyday responsibilities on top of being black and female in this world. That’s a lot. As writers and activists, we’re burdened just a tad bit more, because we’re aware of the injustices in the world and we wanna change it, but we’re up against a very powerful system. So making it to your 80s is a big ole blessing. And I’m inspired by it.