Travelin Songs
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Travelin Songs A Collection of Imagined Historical Events by Janice Franklin Turner A creative project submitted to Sonoma State University In partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of MASTER OF ARTS in English Committee Members: Stefan Kiesbye Anne Goldman May 14, 2021 i Copyright 2021 By Janice Franklin Turner ii Authorization for Reproduction of Master’s Project Permission to reproduce this project in its entirety must be obtained from me. May 14, 2021 Janice Franklin Turner iii Travelin Songs A Collection of Imagined Historical Events Creative project by Janice Franklin Turner Abstract The history of the United States has been fraught with contradictions that challenge the meaning of the values we have always professed. Despite it all, Black and other minoritized people have persevered, making lives within the conditions that they have been forced to exist. Yet, there is little in historical documents that captures the laughter, joy and sorrow that creates the soul of a minoritized people. These tales are historically reimagined gazes into Black lives that portrays that which makes us all human. Through this collection, voice is given to what can’t be found in historical documents in an effort to bridge that gap. When we were growing up my mother always told us, “All that don’t kill you will make you strong.” I spent time thinking about the power that exist behind these words as I created the details for each of the stories in this collection. We never thought about Mama’s statement in the literal sense, thinking to do so was much too morbid. Yet, that is exactly how she meant it. If you don’t die from all that happens in life, the hardship creates the strength needed to prepare you for that next awful thing that you must face. Not dying or persevering is what births what is to come. The connections between what is past and what becomes the future are bridged by moments that give it all meaning. I’m certain Mama never knew anything about the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsch. At least, I don’t think she did. I do know in another time and place; Mama would have likely been a writer. MA Program: English Sonoma State University Date: May 14, 2021 iv Acknowledgements There were many people who allowed me to stand on their shoulders so that I might gain a better view of the universe. Thank you all for pushing me upward and never once letting my feet touch the ground. I would like to thank my thesis advisors Professor Stefan Kiesbye and Dr. Anne Goldman of the Sonoma State University English Department. You both have patiently waded through the various iterations of my stories, offering advice and counsel. Thank you, Dr. Chingling Wo, Sonoma State Graduate Coordinator. Each time I doubted myself you have been somewhere in the background insisting that I already had everything I needed to ensure my own success. I would also like to thank Dr. Kim Hester Williams who gave me the gift of reading deeply the works of Tony Morrison and Herman Melville. What you taught me extends well beyond the ability to look behind the words on the page. I would like to send heart-felt gratitude to Dr. Peter Blakemore, Professor Susan Nordlof and Professor David Holper at College of the Redwoods in Humboldt County. Thank you all for believing in me, even during periods when I doubted myself. My husband, Ronald Turner, has faithfully washed the piles of dirty dishes and taken care of our fur baby Moe so that I could write uninterrupted. I thank you and I promise that soon I will be ready to take my turn at the kitchen sink. One of my most profound gifts was provided by my daughter, Dr. Asilia Franklin-Phipps, who successfully turned the tables on the child/parent relationship to become my sounding board and my rock. I also want to thank my son, Jasiri Franklin-Phipps, who took the time to read my stories despite them not being Science Fiction. I owe the greatest debt of gratitude to my mother and father who took the time to share their stories, thereby providing me the necessary context to write my own. Take my love in full payment, there is not enough money in the world to give you hard currency. v Table of Contents Critical Introduction …...……………………………………………………………… 1 Making Family ………………………………………………………………………. 17 The Relocation .………………………………………………………………………. 31 When Eddie Meets Leslie ……………………………………………………………. 52 The Game .……………………………………………………………………………. 73 Family & Fury ………………………………………………………………………... 85 Gumbo ………………………………………………………………………………. 101 vi 1 Certain kinds of trauma visited on peoples are so deep, so cruel, That unlike money, unlike vengeance, even unlike justice, or Rights, or the goodwill of others, only writers can translate and turn sorrow into meaning, sharpening the moral imagination. Toni Morrison. 2 Travelin Songs A Collection of Imagined Historical Events A Critical Introduction Hearing voices has always been considered indicative of a mental health issue, but it’s more likely a writer buried beneath life’s minutia trying desperately to claw her way to sunlight. Woman and writer, with the exception a few women acknowledged as gifted anomalies, are terms that have not been viewed as appropriately connected. To combine Black woman and writer as a singular identity has been considered ludicrous. Women, and Black women in particular, have been pathologized or worse, we pathologize ourselves by believing the inherent madness in women writing stories. We have been convinced that we are damaged, confused and our mental health has been seriously compromised. What other reasoning is there for voices trying desperately to make their way to a page? I reject these explanations for voices that have soothed me since my early years. I instead define them as ancestral absences that are demanding acknowledgement and remembrance. Not the socially constructed images that come to mind when viewing historical documents or history books written from a particular perspective. No, that is not what my voices speak of when the room is quiet, and the computer screen beams an incandescent light across my face. They speak of love, life’s conflicts and the ways that family connections provide the strength needed to persevere and become historical. There is no viable alternative but to defy expectations and be a writer. It provides a means to end the historical silence of my voices, making them extant and ensuring that the lives that were lived are both tangible and real. The only other alternative is to accept my own pathology. Now that is simply madness. 3 When thinking through the idea of a Creative Writing Culminating Project, I considered what I could write that would be interesting, engaging and important. Rather late in the program, I thought about the family stories that circulated during holidays and family celebrations. Not complete stories, more like vignettes of family historical events presented from the singular perspective of the person speaking. Some of the story ideas came to me while remembering our rambunctious family dinners. Parts of them are definitely true, other parts are damned lies and drunken song. During all of them, imagined connections are woven between what was and what most certainly could have been. This is why I call it all fiction. It’s undoubtedly the most appropriate classification, with the exception of those times when it’s not. Each of us are free to imagine for ourselves the history behind our own existence. Isn’t that what has always happened in stories? It’s funny to talk about historical events and imagination with the same breath of air. There are those who would say that there is no imagination in history and any suggestion otherwise perverts its very meaning. It is my belief that history is actually a series of events seen through the eyes of a particular perspective that bring together imagined connections, purpose and causality. The individual perspective, by its very nature, provides ample room for an element of imagination. The varied history of the Native American people as it existed on these shores for thousands of years before the first White man placed one foot on sandy beach is noticeably absent in much of what we think of as American history. We instead imagine a history of this country that did not begin until the immigration of thousands from the European coast. The mundane history of the people who existed here during those prior thousands of years is devalued and effectively erased. When it comes to the historical existence of ordinary Black 4 folks, a similar concept of erasure is at play. Black history is an addendum that includes a sanitized version of slavery and the civil rights movement, with the truly ugly parts massaged over so it is more palatable. What if history, true history, survives within the telling of stories? Not the chronological recitation of events, but the sentiments, heart and struggles of a people that lived, breathed and died in the margins of society. These stories live on in a microscopic sense, in family lore. In my family they are served up during holiday and Sunday dinners, along with copious amounts of food. These stories are precious because they fill the gaps left by a historical absence, creating a sense of shared experience and generational continuity. My mama’s table was full most Sundays and holidays. Not the conventional image of people sitting around a long dining room table quietly passing the potato salad and collard greens from one family member to another. No, the table was for all the food that relatives contributed to the meal, piled high on every inch of it. The family would form a line around the table and serve themselves buffet style.