zaichikarky (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
zaichikarky) wrote2014-04-07 08:16 pm
zaichikarky) wrote2014-04-07 08:16 pm
LJ Idol Season 9- Week 4: "Nobody can ride your back if your back's not bent"
"Hey daddy, guess what?" I approached my dad as he was frowning over some papers.
"You managed to finally clean your room?" He asked, immediately smirking at me.
"Not yet..." I replied. "Something better!"
"How about the backyard then?"
"Wh..." I started, puzzled for a second before I realized he meant raking those leaves he'd been nagging my brother about for several days.
I sighed. "No, dad! I read your first book finally! About Malcolm X."
"I see... Yeah, I think the leaves would have been better. You disappoint me, daughter!"
"Oh complain to George about that, I cleaned the bathroom the other day! He don't do nothing but play basketball every day."
He grimaced. "You've been hanging out with those girls too much..."
I sighed. "Sorry, dad. He does not do anything but play games all day and never does any chores."
He smiled again. "Yeah well... I'll make sure he does it this weekend then. Anyway, the book, yes. What did you think about it?"
"Malcolm X seems like a really cool guy!" I smiled, happy that he did in fact seem interested that I finally read what was probably his most famous book.
"A cool guy? I guess that would be a decent way to describe him..."
"So how did you meet him?" I asked, realizing dad had never spoken about Malcolm X to us.
"I was a poor journalist at the time." He replied. "We met in 1959 when I got commissioned to write an article about the Nation of Islam for Reader's Digest. Then in 1962, another article, this time more of a biographical one for Playboy.
"Playboy?!" I exclaimed. "I didn't know they even have writing. Well maybe some captions..."
He laughed. "Yeah, they actually have serious articles that are in no way related to naked women. It's weird, I know..."
I giggled for about a minute then continued my line of questioning. "So after that you asked to write his autobiography?"
"Yes. And he was very reluctant at first. This was in 1962, when he had become the very prominent spokesperson for the Nation of Islam. I think maybe... he didn't understand why the publisher wanted his autobiography rather than Muhammad's, but he went along with it."
"You mean Elijah Muhammad?"
"Yes, his biggest mentor. Back then, Malcolm and Muhammad were very close and Malcolm thought of him as a father figure."
"Yeah that was in the book, about how they drifted apart from that sex scandal and such."
"Well you know how that went down now, yes, but in the beginning, Malcolm practically worshiped Muhammad. As a matter of fact, I couldn't get him to talk about anything else for the first several meetings."
"All he wanted to talk about was the life of Elijah Muhammad rather than his own?"
"Yes, and I tolerated this at first. But after the 5th hour of the glorious life of Elijah Muhammad, I put a stop to it."
"Was he mad?"
"Yes, at first. Maybe he thought I was being disrespectful to his saint... or whatever term they use in Islam."
"How did you get him to start talking about his own life?"
"That one is an interesting story." He smiled. "I simply cut him off and told him this wasn't working. I was trying to write the autobiography of Malcolm X, not the biography of Elijah Muhammad. We needed to tell his story."
"Did he start talking about his own life then?"
"No. He blankly stared... more like grimaced at me. I then just asked him a simple question to get him going."
"What was it?"
"I asked him to tell me about his mother."
"Well, that's a loaded question!"
"Yes, it definitely was. He froze in place... I told some reporters later that he basically acted like a marionette for several seconds. Then he said that he remembered the gray, drab dresses she always wore. He then stood up, and began telling me about his childhood while pacing, and didn't stop pacing until dawn."
"Wow..." I whispered, somewhat shocked.
"How many interviews did you do?"
"Oh... something like 60? We met a few times a year and would spend hours during these meetings. It was incredibly amazing to see Malcolm grow during these years from the right hand man of Muhammad to a world-leading spokesperson for civil rights, Islam, and just an incredibly politically adroit, generally media-savvy man of fame."
I nodded, absorbing this. "Towards the end, did he confide in you that he was worried his life was at stake?"
His face fell ashen. "Yes, of course he did... and there wasn't really anything anyone could do to talk him out of... being 'Malcolm'."
"What do you mean?"
"When he first told me the extent of his jeopardy, I told him to halt his public speaking immediately, leave the city and go into hiding. He told me that a man who won't die for something isn't fit to live. This made me very angry and I told him that this wasn't the time to spew Reverend King rhetoric."
"So he continued his public speaking until he was shot..."
"Yes, and that's Malcolm. I'm not sure we left on the best of terms. I ended up throwing his daughters into my argument and asked him to consider his family. He was very protective of his family and loved all 6 of his daughters very much. Part of the reason he left the Nation of Islam is because he would not condone Elijah's adultery. His family's lives were at stake too, but he refused to stop being in the public eye. The last thing he told me was that he refused to bend his back, which I then learned was another quote from Revered King." He smiled. "Malcolm didn't always believe in King's approach to the civil rights movement, but I think he respected him a great deal."
"What was the quote?"
He stared at the ceiling for several seconds. "I believe that it was something like 'You can't ride a man's back if it isn't bent.'"
I nodded. I didn't quite understand the significance, but I could tell that retelling this story saddened my father.
He smiled. "Lydia, it's nice that you're old enough now to appreciate Malcolm X and his contributions to the world. I'm very happy, but I'm meeting with the lawyers later today and need to figure out this legal mumbo jumbo."
"Ok, sorry dad, I'll stop bothering you then." I smiled. "I think I'm gunna take a walk now."
"Ok dear, be safe."
I went in search of George, I knew he'd be at the basketball court. While I wouldn't let him ride my back, sisters could employ certain powers of persuasion to inflict on their lazy brothers in an attempt to get them to do their chores.
The only meeting between Malcolm X and Dr. King. This was at the senate debate of the civil rights bill. Malcolm X was assassinated about 11 months later.
"You managed to finally clean your room?" He asked, immediately smirking at me.
"Not yet..." I replied. "Something better!"
"How about the backyard then?"
"Wh..." I started, puzzled for a second before I realized he meant raking those leaves he'd been nagging my brother about for several days.
I sighed. "No, dad! I read your first book finally! About Malcolm X."
"I see... Yeah, I think the leaves would have been better. You disappoint me, daughter!"
"Oh complain to George about that, I cleaned the bathroom the other day! He don't do nothing but play basketball every day."
He grimaced. "You've been hanging out with those girls too much..."
I sighed. "Sorry, dad. He does not do anything but play games all day and never does any chores."
He smiled again. "Yeah well... I'll make sure he does it this weekend then. Anyway, the book, yes. What did you think about it?"
"Malcolm X seems like a really cool guy!" I smiled, happy that he did in fact seem interested that I finally read what was probably his most famous book.
"A cool guy? I guess that would be a decent way to describe him..."
"So how did you meet him?" I asked, realizing dad had never spoken about Malcolm X to us.
"I was a poor journalist at the time." He replied. "We met in 1959 when I got commissioned to write an article about the Nation of Islam for Reader's Digest. Then in 1962, another article, this time more of a biographical one for Playboy.
"Playboy?!" I exclaimed. "I didn't know they even have writing. Well maybe some captions..."
He laughed. "Yeah, they actually have serious articles that are in no way related to naked women. It's weird, I know..."
I giggled for about a minute then continued my line of questioning. "So after that you asked to write his autobiography?"
"Yes. And he was very reluctant at first. This was in 1962, when he had become the very prominent spokesperson for the Nation of Islam. I think maybe... he didn't understand why the publisher wanted his autobiography rather than Muhammad's, but he went along with it."
"You mean Elijah Muhammad?"
"Yes, his biggest mentor. Back then, Malcolm and Muhammad were very close and Malcolm thought of him as a father figure."
"Yeah that was in the book, about how they drifted apart from that sex scandal and such."
"Well you know how that went down now, yes, but in the beginning, Malcolm practically worshiped Muhammad. As a matter of fact, I couldn't get him to talk about anything else for the first several meetings."
"All he wanted to talk about was the life of Elijah Muhammad rather than his own?"
"Yes, and I tolerated this at first. But after the 5th hour of the glorious life of Elijah Muhammad, I put a stop to it."
"Was he mad?"
"Yes, at first. Maybe he thought I was being disrespectful to his saint... or whatever term they use in Islam."
"How did you get him to start talking about his own life?"
"That one is an interesting story." He smiled. "I simply cut him off and told him this wasn't working. I was trying to write the autobiography of Malcolm X, not the biography of Elijah Muhammad. We needed to tell his story."
"Did he start talking about his own life then?"
"No. He blankly stared... more like grimaced at me. I then just asked him a simple question to get him going."
"What was it?"
"I asked him to tell me about his mother."
"Well, that's a loaded question!"
"Yes, it definitely was. He froze in place... I told some reporters later that he basically acted like a marionette for several seconds. Then he said that he remembered the gray, drab dresses she always wore. He then stood up, and began telling me about his childhood while pacing, and didn't stop pacing until dawn."
"Wow..." I whispered, somewhat shocked.
"How many interviews did you do?"
"Oh... something like 60? We met a few times a year and would spend hours during these meetings. It was incredibly amazing to see Malcolm grow during these years from the right hand man of Muhammad to a world-leading spokesperson for civil rights, Islam, and just an incredibly politically adroit, generally media-savvy man of fame."
I nodded, absorbing this. "Towards the end, did he confide in you that he was worried his life was at stake?"
His face fell ashen. "Yes, of course he did... and there wasn't really anything anyone could do to talk him out of... being 'Malcolm'."
"What do you mean?"
"When he first told me the extent of his jeopardy, I told him to halt his public speaking immediately, leave the city and go into hiding. He told me that a man who won't die for something isn't fit to live. This made me very angry and I told him that this wasn't the time to spew Reverend King rhetoric."
"So he continued his public speaking until he was shot..."
"Yes, and that's Malcolm. I'm not sure we left on the best of terms. I ended up throwing his daughters into my argument and asked him to consider his family. He was very protective of his family and loved all 6 of his daughters very much. Part of the reason he left the Nation of Islam is because he would not condone Elijah's adultery. His family's lives were at stake too, but he refused to stop being in the public eye. The last thing he told me was that he refused to bend his back, which I then learned was another quote from Revered King." He smiled. "Malcolm didn't always believe in King's approach to the civil rights movement, but I think he respected him a great deal."
"What was the quote?"
He stared at the ceiling for several seconds. "I believe that it was something like 'You can't ride a man's back if it isn't bent.'"
I nodded. I didn't quite understand the significance, but I could tell that retelling this story saddened my father.
He smiled. "Lydia, it's nice that you're old enough now to appreciate Malcolm X and his contributions to the world. I'm very happy, but I'm meeting with the lawyers later today and need to figure out this legal mumbo jumbo."
"Ok, sorry dad, I'll stop bothering you then." I smiled. "I think I'm gunna take a walk now."
"Ok dear, be safe."
I went in search of George, I knew he'd be at the basketball court. While I wouldn't let him ride my back, sisters could employ certain powers of persuasion to inflict on their lazy brothers in an attempt to get them to do their chores.
The only meeting between Malcolm X and Dr. King. This was at the senate debate of the civil rights bill. Malcolm X was assassinated about 11 months later.
no subject