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15 January 2010: A Friend Of Friends: Lessons From The Underground Railroad Sandra T

By Sandra Taliaferro

One night during the holidays I watched one of my favorite movies, Roots: The Gift. The movie stars LeVar Burton and Louis Gossett, Jr., in their roles as Kunta Kinte and Fiddler from the television series Roots. In this movie, Kunta and Fiddler accompany their owner to another plantation at Christmas time for a party, and become involved in a plan to help some runaway slaves escape via the Underground Railroad to freedom. A simple, yet powerful story. There are many messages and lessons to be learned from Roots: The Gift.In one of my favorite scenes, Fiddler and Kunta are helping the group of runaway slaves get to the river where they are to meet a boat that will take them further on their journey to freedom. Along the way they make a stop to pick up other “passengers” on the Underground Railroad. When they come to a farmhouse, Kunta approaches and knocks. The man asks…”who goes”? Kunta responds “Friend of Friends”…in acknowledgment, the man replies “Friend of Friends”. A group of “passengers” exit the house. Kunta, Fiddler, and the group continue their journey.This year, I was particularly moved by the Underground Railroad scene, and even more so by the phrase uttered by Kunta- Friend of Friends. The phrase, and variations of it, was used along the Underground Railroad as a password or signal to those assisting runaway slaves on their journey North…to freedom. The traditional response to the “who goes there” password is said to have been “A Friend of a Friend”.A Friend of Friends. Say it… A Friend of Friends, again…A Friend of Friends. It evokes such a comforting, welcoming feeling. A feeling of trust, of sharing, of caring, of kindness, and of friendship, however brief. At the same time, it is transient…adjusting and changing with the circumstances. I’m A Friend of Friends….you don’t know me, but I require assistance…I need your help, and guidance…some information to aid me on my journey…then I’ll be moving on…to the next stop along the way.The phrase, and the underlying concept, seems particularly appropriate and relevant for those of us in the genealogy community; aren’t we all on some level really just A Friend of Friends? Strangers helping strangers. Friends of friends with a common bond that ties us all together….the desire to know our ancestors, and to tell their stories. A common goal, with different methods, different paths that cross and intersect along the journey. As we travel this road to uncovering our ancestors and their stories we should all embrace the concept…we should be A Friend of Friends. Don’t be afraid or reluctant to share, to care, to guide, or to assist your fellow researcher along their journey.As an African American researcher my task is two-fold; I research my family, but inevitably I must also research the family of my ancestor’s slave holders if I want to know more about my roots. Often we must seek information (assistance) from those that we do not know to aid us on our journey. It is an unavoidable truth – the descendants of our ancestor’s slave holding families may hold the key to our enslaved ancestor’s past. Slavery is an ugly truth of our shared history. I am not angry with you because your ancestor held my ancestor as a slave; don’t be angry with me because I seek those records that may shed more light on the lives of my people, and help me to tell their story more completely. Some who were members of slave holding families assisted passengers along the Underground Railroad. I challenge you to be A Friend of Friends.We, as researchers of our African American ancestry, must also remember to share, to care, to guide, and to assist our fellow researchers; reach out, take time….no, make time. Can you request and expect the assistance of others, yet not expect the same of yourself? I urge you to stop being selfish with your research. Don’t miss out on a connection or a long lost cousin because of fear or uncertainty. Post It, Blog It, Share It, and Publish It. Many who were passengers along the Underground Railroad returned to assist others on their journey to freedom. I challenge you to be A Friend of Friends.True genealogists know all of this, and understand the necessity of it. Indeed, the concept is nothing new in the genealogy community. Random, and not so random, acts of kindness occur every day. So, consider this a wake-up call, my challenge to you. When a fellow researcher comes calling…for info…for guidance…for knowledge…for support – be there – to share, to care, to guide, and to assist.KNOCK, KNOCK!?!WHO GOES THERE?A FRIEND OF FRIENDSSHARE THIS:

via 15 January 2010: A Friend Of Friends: Lessons From The Underground Railroad.

 
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Posted by on January 15, 2014 in AAGSAR, CoAAG

 

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5th Edition of the Carnival of African American Genealogy (CoAGG): Rebirth: It’s Time for Revival !!!!

praying girl real

My Grandmother’s Living Legacy

Mildred Schexnayder Muggah

My grandmother Mildred was a faithful member of the Allen Temple Baptist Church in Oakland California, but I was a baby when she passed away and my mother was practically a child herself when my grandmother had passed. So I did not hear the family stories of the baptismal or the homecomings. I did not see any pictures of Easter Sunday bests. Grandmother’s children attended Sunday school and they learn the Beatitudes and they attended the summer camps. They had to recite scriptures on “Watch Night” programs. They said their prayers before bed. But I sensed my grandmother was very spiritual inwardly, because I believe that she had passed it down to my mother. Meaning my mother did not preach the bible, but she made it alive through daily living. One example was when my mother was fixing breakfast and asked my brother Oliver and I, what did we want to eat for breakfast. I had wanted pancakes and he wanted waffles. Our mother was only going to make one choice, so we had to decide which one. I demanded pancakes and Oliver demanded waffles, it appeared that there was no compromising. My mother said “I guess I am not making either one”  I told my mother that she can make the waffles. My mother chose to make my choice the pancakes and then she explain why she had made that decision by telling us the story of the “Judgment of King Solomon”, where King Solomon ruled between two women who both claimed to be the mother of this one particular baby. That breakfast moment with my mother had birthed my spirituality quest. Pancakes was by no means a comparison to a baby, but I felt the love and compassion my mother was teaching in that story. My quest to learn about the love of God had begun. My mother did not realize she had birthed to me what her mother birthed to her. As I hope to have birthed to my sons. We did not passed on “Religion”, but the love of God. It will be our personal choice how we follow that path. My grandmother’s spirituality has rebirth in her daughter and her granddaughter.

 My first gospel song my mother taught my brother Oliver and I.

Amen

See the little baby, amen. Lyin’ in a manger, amen. On Christmas morning,                                Amen, amen,  amen

See him in the temple, amen. Talking with the elders, amen. Who marveled at his wisdom   Amen, amen, amen

See him by the seaside, amen.  Talking with the fishermen, amen. Makin’ ’em disciples,       Amen, amen, amen

Marchin’ to Jerusalem, amen. Wavin’ palm branches, amen. In pomp and splendor                Amen, amen, amen

See him in the garden, amen. Talkin’ with the father, amen. In deepest sorrow                         Amen, amen, amen

You can read more entries to the 5th edition of the Carnival of African American Genealogy by clicking this link  http://ourgeorgiaroots.com/5th-edition-carnival-of-african-american-genealogy-coaag-rebirth-its-time-for-revival/
Stephani 
(Image source: Graphics Press, Inc.)
 
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Posted by on November 19, 2013 in CoAAG, Muggah, Schexnayder

 

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