Bob Johnson, founding director of Juneteenth Atlanta, one of the largest Juneteenth celebrations in the U.S., discusses the significance of remembering the anniversary of June 19, 1865 – the day the last enslaved Africans and African Americans in the U.S. became free.
“Juneteenth is a commemoration of all of those people who fought against slavery. Who fought to abolish slavery,” he says.
Johnson started his annual three-day parade and music festival in 2012, and he says it’s more relevant than ever.
Bob Johnson at Juneteenth Atlanta 2015.
“Events like this have to sustain. They have to be available to future generations so that we can put as many pieces of this puzzle together as possible. Knowing the contributions that you have made as a people is important to your esteem, your confidence, and your well-being.”
He says his event includes floats of inspirational black leaders of the U.S., as well as the kings and queens of Africa – so that the youth, especially, leave with more pride – and hope.
“Freedom is important, says Johnson. “To be able to be part of your community is important. To be able to have dignity is important.”
Last year, in a special Thanksgiving collaboration with I Am An Immigrant, Cooking with Granny traveled to California to tell the refugee immigrant story behind Grandma Lan’s crispy Vietnamese quail. It’s baked, fried, and flambeed — and served with a side of her famous fish sauce. Under Communist rule in Vietnam, Grandma Lan thrived as an underground fish sauce dealer in the black market so much so that she came to be known as “Madam Fish Sauce.â€
Bobby Gonzalez has had practically every job you could think of — from a medical records clerk in a hospital to customer service at a utility company. However, he says it was at age 40 that he discovered his life’s calling and passion – storytelling. His favorite topic is his Puerto Rican and Taino heritage, which in turn, challenges his listeners to get curious about their own roots.
Ever since that moment of enlightenment, storytelling is what Gonzalez devotes his life to. At 65, he still resides in his native Bronx, NY, with his wife Maria, but sometimes he doesn’t even know where he’ll end up the next day giving a workshop or lecture. So far, he’s spoken in 42 states — in the past two weeks alone, he’s been at Wellesley College in Massachusetts and Davidson College in North Carolina speaking about the racial and cultural diversity of Latinos. Next week, he’ll host his monthly spoken word event in Queens, NY.
“When people ask me, ‘What do you do?’ I say, I’m an educator through lectures and poetry,†says Gonzalez, who has also authored two books, “The Last Puerto Rican,†and “Taino Zen.”  “I don’t know what’s going to happen the next minute. Occasionally, I get a phone call asking me, ‘Can you do this?’ and I do it. I’m not afraid to fail.â€
His second favorite job in life, he says, was working at his family’s bodega, which they owned for more than 30 years.
“That’s where I really polished my speaking skills, and I heard a lot of great stories,†says Gonzalez, about the place which birthed his purpose. “It was quite an experience.â€
He says his parents also played an important role.
“We were very fortunate, my brothers and I, to have had two Puerto Rican parents who always made the point to tell us where we came from and instilled in us a great pride of who we were,†says Gonzalez. “That inspired me to embark on a lifetime of personal research. I got my information from books and oral traditions – here and in Puerto Rico. When I was a little boy, my parents would take me to Puerto Rico, and I would sit at the feet of my great grandfather. He would tell me the stories of the old days, and I would roll my eyes, but I wish I listened more carefully.â€
Gonzalez can see clearly now that his ancestors grew up in a different world, and that gives him the incentive to tell their stories. One story in particular which has marked him is one of his mother’s arrival to New York from Puerto Rico via a train from Miami in the 1940’s.
“She was very light-skinned, and when she got to Miami, the conductor told my dark-skinned grandmother to sit in another car,†recalls Gonzalez. “I have to remind young people they take a lot for granted – even the right to vote.â€
Gonzalez remembers the exact date he began documenting his family roots by writing poetry.
“It was February 9, 1964,†he says without hesitation. “The Beatles appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show, and the day after, millions of kids around the world bought their own guitars and started to write their own music.â€
Storytelling came very naturally to him, he further explains.
“Every day, I would go to the library, get some books, and then go down my block and tell stories,†says Gonzalez, who still has the same almost involuntary instinct years later. “I spend a lot of time in the Manhattan and the Bronx libraries,†where he sometimes also hosts spoken word nights for teens.
He says one of his biggest career challenges also took place in a library while he was telling stories of his ancestors, the Taino people, who are an indigenous people of the Caribbean.
“Once I was speaking in a library in Queens, and a man told me, ‘There are no Tainos left. I don’t know why you’re doing this.’ At the end, he came up to me and said, ‘I’m proud to be a Taino.’ I was taught by my parents never to say ‘You are wrong.’ We were all raised differently, so it’s important to dialogue in a civilized manner. We are all one.â€
Gonzalez says he used this parental wisdom when speaking at the University of Mississippi last year, as well.
“We can’t have the same perspectives, and that’s okay, as long we listen to each other with respect,†he adds. “I meet students from Latin countries, and they don’t know about their indigenous heritage, and people who lived here their whole life don’t know American history. My favorite moment is always when people say, ‘I didn’t know that.’â€
Education is primordial for Gonzalez, even though his father only finished 2nd grade and his mom, 6th grade. He admits he never finished his bachelor’s degree in marketing, but he believes through his natural curiosity, he has learned so much more by devouring books on his own. And now he loves to share that knowledge with kids as young as pre-k, all the way to seniors.
“I don’t have the sense of fear,†says Gonzalez about what has helped him the most in life. “The times now are nothing compared to what my parents went through. Police brutality was a lot more common back then, there were no bilingual services, and immigrant groups lived in one neighborhood. My brothers, and I went to college. We didn’t finish, but we did it, because my parents sacrificed for us.â€
What is the one piece of life advice he wishes he could tell his younger self today?
“It gets better every day if you make the conscious effort to improve yourself passionately and persistently.â€Â
Eugene Ethelbert Miller, who goes by his middle name, “Ethelbert,†is a writer and literary activist who says he’s never been busier than at 66.
Originally from the Bronx, NY, Miller made his way to Washington, D.C. to attend Howard University at 18. He’s been residing in the U.S. capitol ever since, where he’s written several collections of poetry, two memoirs and where he has served as editor of America’s oldest poetry journal, “Poet Lore.â€Â His most recent book, “The Collected Poems of E. Ethelbert Miller,†hit shelves last year.
The award-winning poet also loves to discuss history and politics, and thus currently hosts and produces half-hour segments with experts in different fields, called, “The Scholars†on UDC-TV, and is the host of the weekly morning radio show, “On the Margin,†which airs on WPFW-FM 89.3.Â
“I made the decision to be a writer my sophomore year [of college],†recalls Miller. “I arrived to Howard University in 1968 – the year Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated, and then following that, Robert Kennedy was assassinated in June. The Vietnam War was going on – 1968 was one of the most important years in world history.â€
He says it was during this time that he was “sort of baptized in black history.â€
“I wanted to be involved in every aspect of writing about it,†says Miller about the politically-charged time, as sharply and energetically as if it were just yesterday. “It was just like now – with the Woman’s March and Black Lives Matter…â€
He remembers writing his first poems on the back of envelopes on his letters to family back in NY – his favorite topic being love.
“I wrote many love poems,†says Miller. “I wanted to leave behind poems that were similar to Pablo Neruda’s work.â€
Eventually, his poems made it to the school newspaper, and then a DJ started to read his poems on Howard’s school radio.
“Last year, my collective works came out,†continues Miller. “Now I can hold in my hand a body of work that represents 40 years.â€
As the first member of his family to go to college, he considers this quite the accomplishment.
“My family is from the West Indies,†says Miller. “My father worked in the post office, my mother was a seamstress. College was a strain financially, and when I said I wanted to be a writer, it took them a while to understand.†Â
However, he has no regrets on his career choice.
“When I look back on my writing, it took me to places that I couldn’t have gone otherwise,†says the poet, mentioning the U.S. State Department sponsored some of his trips. “I went to Iraq, Saudi Arabia, people would send me to all sorts of places.â€
Miller also spent 40 years as director of the African American Resource Center at Howard University, where he was able to give back to an institution that has given him so much.
“I was one of the first graduates of African American Studies at Howard University,†says Miller, explaining it was one of the first schools to offer this program in history. “Howard students pushed for the African American Studies Department, and the Ford Foundation gave a large grant to set up the department, and part of it was the Resource Center.â€
Miller started out as a student at the Resource Center, and then became a director in 1974. He describes it as a place with a lot of books, and a base to document African American history.
“I made a lot of contacts working there – there’s probably no African American writer I don’t know,†says Miller, remembering the memorable time Alex Haley, the author of “Roots†and “The Autobiography of Malcolm X†came to meet him there. “A lot of people came through that program. When you stay at a place 40 years, you are going to touch a lot of lives, and a lot of lives are going to touch you.â€
However, about two years ago, Miller says budget cuts shut down the program, and he was let go.
“You might have three, four, or five professions in your life. I worked in a place for 40 years. That way of life is not coming back,†says Miller about the changing times. “Now, you’re most probably not going to marry your high school sweetheart. [And that] redefines what family really is.â€
Miller says one of his most challenging roles was being a father and raising two kids. And even in fatherhood, the way he used language was intentional – even in naming them.
“I’m a baseball person, and I look at my life in terms of innings – now, I’m going through the 7th inning stretch,†explains Miller. “When you reach your 70’s, you still have your life ahead of you. Jazz musicians are still performing in their 80’s, and that should be a guide for all of us. As an artist, you are not dependent on an employer. [Your art] never stops until you die.â€
Right now, he says he’s doing better than ever, and it’s the busiest “inning†of his life.
“Before, I was not making a living as a writer. I was never applying for grants and fellowships, but now I am free to travel and write more,†says Miller. “My career has really taken off. I finally have an assistant. She edited my collected works, which would never have happened if I was with the University. It made me very, very productive. Some people think I don’t sleep.â€
He’s also been the board chair of the Institute of Policy Studies for the past 10 years (currently the interim chair) – a progressive think tank working to build social, cultural and economic equality.
“I chose the board – I moved our organization to a new facility. I put Danny Glover on our board, and Harry Belafonte,†says Miller, adding they discuss things from domestic workers to healthcare issues. This is the first year that I know personally well two members of Congress. Some of those people I’ve met through the Institute. People associate me with literature, but I’m also involved in politics. My day has a lot of projects – I’m doing a tour of the south right now – going to all the black schools with my friend, a filmmaker. Just came back from New Orleans, and next we are heading to Tuskegee in Alabama. There’s a lot to do – a lot of collaborations. Being a writer, you’re not just concerned about what’s going on in the U.S. but all around the world. That’s how you should live your senior years. If you stay healthy, you can make a contribution…What we need today is heroes.â€
What is the most important piece of advice about life that you would tell your younger self knowing what you know now?
“I think what I’ve learned now are two things:We have to practice deep listening. We have to understand what [people] are afraid of, what they’re suffering from. Then the next level is compassion. Once you get past that point of compassion, then you can talk about the beloved community. There are levels. You have to prepare yourself spiritually for the steps…Every day when you wake up, fix something that’s broken. That way you know there’s going to be something different between today and yesterday. That’s how you know…You gotta make some changes, and it might be very small. Sometimes the first thing you gotta fix is your heart…When I look at my love poems, they’re always about desire and seeking. If you can in your life have one good friend, then you have done something that is very, very difficult, because you have to love that person with all their flaws. It takes a strong spiritual point of arriving, too – that level of love is what we’re really lacking in society. We are losing that with our young people – we’ve gotta bring caring and civility back. I see people yelling at each other and no deep listening.â€
Betty Reid Soskin (Courtesy National Park Service)
At nearly 95, Betty Reid Soskin has lived a remarkable life, but her adventures are not over.
During World War II, when Soskin was 20, she worked as a file clerk for Boilermakers Union A-36, a Jim Crow segregated union. In 1945, she and her first husband, founded Reid Records, a small record store specializing in Gospel music. In the 1960’s she enjoyed writing songs and performing them at college campuses during the Civil Rights Movement. In the late 1970’s she became a community activist and started serving as a field representative for California State Assemblywoman Dion Aroner and Loni Hancock.
It was through this civic work, which led Soskin to become involved in the planning of a park to honor the active role of women during World War II, a role she knew of first-hand. For the past decade, she has been working in that very park – Rosie the Riveter/World War II Home Front National Historical Park – located in her hometown of Richmond, California.
“I didn’t become a ranger until I was 85,†says Soskin, who is considered the most senior park ranger in the entire U.S. “I think most of what moves me is the park that I’m involved with is part of my living history. I’m a primary source.â€
Soskin works five hours a day, five days a week, in the park’s Visitor Center.
“I work at the desk answering phones…On Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, I screen one of our nine films and then do a commentary,†she says. “On Wednesdays and Fridays, I work on writing, answering mail, catching up with my e-mail, and am involved in planning meetings with the rest of the staff.â€
She’s proud that she played such an active role in the development of Rosie the Riveter National Park, and gets to continually do so every week.
“I get to add the history of African American women,†says Soskin. “The park wasn’t meant to celebrate that part of history…History that’s not in the history books.â€
She says the first people were who were hired to work in the World War II effort were men too old to fight, then single white women, then when that pool was exhausted, they hired married white women, then black men.
Betty, at 20, in 1942. (Photo by Emmanuel F. Joseph)
“Then in 1944-45, they began to train black women to be welders,†recalls Soskin. “I was working in a segregated union hall making 5×5 change of address cards for people who were constantly moving.â€
She says her history was very different from that of Rosie the Riveter – a cultural icon representing the American women who worked in factories and shipyards during World War II, many of whom worked in the shipyards and factories making war supplies.
“I get to trace that history for people,†says Soskin, about her work. “It was a case of being involved in one of the most dynamic histories in our time…and I can make it come alive for people.â€
Her favorite moment in history took place on January 20, 2009.
“I was a seated guest at the Capitol, and I had a picture of my great grandmother – who had been a slave – in my pocket, and the first black President was being inaugurated. I don’t think she could’ve imagined that happen in the world she lived in. I don’t think she could think that could happen. We are living in such a fast changing world. It’s absolutely unbelievable.†Â
As far as the current elections and race relations, she says we didn’t come so far in one piece.
“A lot of us got stuck,†says Soskin. “When I was a young woman, my father was a craftsman, and  my grandfather was an engineer. We lost in everything in the 1927 floods in New Orleans, and my father lost his status in that world.â€
It was not possible for him to be a craftsman in the west coast, so he started working on the railroad – he worked in the sandwich car.
“He was a very proud man, and I think being on that level must have been very, very hard for him,†says Soskin. Â
She continues to say that she feels that every event in her life was leading to the place she is now.
“I seem to be using everything I’ve ever learned, now, in this context,†says Soskin. “It’s an amazing place in life. I’m still an evolving person, still now. If I were to choose a favorite period, I think it would be the last 10 years.â€
During the last 10 years, she’s worn her uniform proudly. Â
“I enjoy wearing my uniform, because I’ve seen little girls look up at me and wonder,†says Soskin. “It does give the silent message that this could be a career option that they might not have thought of.â€
The piece of advice she would have liked to have given her younger self:
“Don’t get hung up on the answers. It’s the questions that lead you through life,†she says. “Answers have always been temporary for me. As I aged, if I found an answer, I knew they would never last – they developed into new questions. No one lifetime can encompass all those answers. That is still where I am.â€
