062 – 079  Poor Slave and living conditions  (old book 60-68)

Vincents text                                                             Norsk oversættelse                                                  Ny dansk bog

62

In my search for answers as to why we constantly see an enemy image in our fellow human beings—an image we use to justify violence—I wondered about the working conditions that continue to blunt us in body and mind. Rough work is still performed by blacks while whites direct it. Many blacks have been killed in these sawmills and even more feet and fingers have been cut off—as on this worker. In Central America I saw how the US provides military support for the bloody repression of trade unions, yet I was shocked to find almost no trade unions in the Southern States that could protect such workers. These workers received no compensation when the saw cut their fingers off, and they had to be back at work two days later, for as one was told, “there are a lot of hungry niggers outside waiting to get work.”

In a society that makes such violent inroads into life, in a country where European concepts such as workers’ management and unions are light years from the worker’s consciousness, the time-clock easily becomes the new whip of the slave master—a symbol of our perennial violence. When, five years later, I returned to see Sam Kator (photo on page 65) to give him my book, I found he’d been beaten to death by police in a prison cell. Traveling in the world of black Americans inevitably becomes a journey into the soul and into the history of every person you meet. You begin to understand the traits and tendencies we’ve impressed on the souls and collective consciousness of black people through slavery as well as how, ever since, we’ve not only perpetuated and revived both their distress patterns and our own, but also intensified them.

65

Poor slave, take the shackles off your body,

poor slave, put the shackles on your mind.


Please listen to me carefully

and if I’m wrong then correct me.

But if I’m right my song do praise,

now let’s see if we agree:

The definition of a slave

means one not free entirely

so a slave is still a slave

if he can’t think independently.


66

A tree is still a tree

though it sheds its leaves when winter comes.

But it blooms again in spring

for it did not lose its roots at all.

But a slave remains a slave

without the knowledge of his roots

until he’s taught the past

not just some, but all the truth.


Poor slave, take the shackles off your body,

poor slave, put the shackles on your mind.


69

There was a brother the other day

telling me he’s feeling high

but I just sadly had to sigh

for drugs and booze ain’tglory,

and if I had the chance to get high

I would tell the truth and not a lie,

for the highest high a man can get

is from wisdom, knowledge and understanding.


Poor slave, ease the pressure off your body,

poor slave, put it on your mind...


70



When I lived with the underclass, I understood how the physical shackles also became mental shackles. These shacks in which we’ve confined our slain brother Cain since slavery are utterly inhuman and do not admit a feeling of freedom or the opportunity to unfold intellectually and creatively. One hundred years ago, we lived next door to blacks. Seeing our neighbors consigned to inferior living conditions is incomprehensible and hurtful to the innocent white child. Growing up, we’re slowly manipulated into developing hostile images—with the result that the natural joy of being with blacks in the US or immigrants in Europe is violently suppressed. When the vicious circle of oppression is thus fulfilled, it becomes natural for whites to rationalize away how these outcasts live right next to their own luxury homes in miserable shacks, often smaller than this original slave cabin. Or as white students often say after my lectures, “Before I saw your show, it never occurred to me that real people lived in those shacks!”

Yet, the gloomy abyss in our minds, reflected by these slum conditions, is far worse than in my photographs. The pictures don’t show how the wind whistles through the cracks, making it impossible to keep warm in winter or the sagging rotten floors with splits so wide that snakes and vermin crawl right into the living room. The powerlessness I feel trying to photograph these stifling sensations mirrors the powerlessness they impose on our trapped victims. Even if I could have afforded a wide-angle lens to record the narrowness, the images couldn’t show the absence of running water, toilets, showers, and electricity. I saw thousands of Americans grow up in the glow of the kerosene lamp.


72

In the same way I didn’t feel capable of portraying the strange psychic feeling of suddenly being transferred to a condition we in Denmark haven’t known for the last hundred years (although it is delightful, after all the stifling noise characterizing American homes, to suddenly stand in the silence of no TV or radio). Liberal whites, who don’t fear their lights will be turned off, sometimes argue during my lectures that blacks should be happy for the same reason. With such romanticism we reveal a terrifying insensitivity toward the psychology of involuntary poverty.

And even if you are perhaps free from the invasion of the commercials of affluent society inside your shack, you nevertheless have your prospect destroyed by the aggressive omnipresent billboards right outside.





 

62

I min rejses søgen efter svar på, hvorfor vi konstant ser et fjendebillede i medmennesket og derved bliver i stand til at udøve vold imod det, undrede jeg mig over de arbejdsforhold, som fortsat afstumper os i krop og sind. Hårdt arbejde udføres stadig af de sorte, mens hvide dirigerer. Mange sorte er blevet dræbt i disse savværker og endnu flere fødder og fingre er skåret af - som på denne arbejder. Jeg havde set i Centralamerika, hvordan USA gav militær støtte til blodig undertrykkelse af fagforeninger, men var alligevel chokeret over næsten ikke at finde fagforeninger i Sydstaterne, der kunne beskytte sådanne arbejdere. Disse arbejdere fik ingen kompensation, når saven skar deres fingre af, og de måtte være tilbage på arbejde to dage senere, for som en af dem fik at vide, "der er en masse sultne niggere udenfor, der venter på at få arbejde".



I et samfund, som gør så voldsomme indhug mod mennesket, og hvor europæiske begreber om medarbejderindflydelse er lysår væk, bliver tidsstemplingsmaskinen i arbejderens bevidsthed let opfattet som slaveherrens nye pisk – et symbol på vores fortsatte undertrykkelse. Da jeg fem år efter kom tilbage til Sam Kator (foto side 65) for at give ham min bog, var han blevet tævet ihjel af politiet i en fængselscelle. At rejse i de sorte amerikaneres verden bliver uundgåeligt en rejse ind i sjælen og tilbage i historien i hvert eneste menneske, man møder. Man begynder at forstå de træk og tendenser, som vi har påtrykt de sorte menneskers sjæl og kollektive bevidsthed gennem slaveriet, og hvordan vi siden da ikke blot har videreført og genoplivet både deres og vores egne lidelsesmønstre, men også forstærket dem.

65

Poor slave, take the shackles off your body,

poor slave, put the shackles on your mind.


Please listen to me carefully

and if I’m wrong then correct me.

But if I’m right my song do praise,

now let’s see if we agree:

The definition of a slave

means one not free entirely

so a slave is still a slave

if he can’t think independently.


66

A tree is still a tree

though it sheds its leaves when winter comes.

But it blooms again in spring

for it did not lose its roots at all.

But a slave remains a slave

without the knowledge of his roots

until he’s taught the past

not just some, but all the truth.


Poor slave, take the shackles off your body,

poor slave, put the shackles on your mind.


69

There was a brother the other day

telling me he’s feeling high

but I just sadly had to sigh

for drugs and booze ain’tglory,

and if I had the chance to get high

I would tell the truth and not a lie,

for the highest high a man can get

is from wisdom, knowledge and understanding.


Poor slave, ease the pressure off your body,

poor slave, put it on your mind...

70

Når jeg boede hos underklassen, forstod jeg, hvordan de fysiske lænker også blev til mentale lænker. Disse shacks, som vi henviste vore udstødte til siden slaveriet, var aldeles umenneskelige og gav på ingen måde følelsen af frihed eller mulighed for at udfolde sig intellektuelt og kreativt. For 100 år siden boede vi fysisk tæt på vore sorte naboer. At se vore udstødte altid henvist til inferiøre boligforhold er uforståeligt og sårende ikke blot for de undertrykte, men også for det uskyldige hvide barns sind. Under opvæksten manipuleres vi langsomt til at danne fjendebilleder – med det resultat, at den naturlige glæde ved samvær med sorte i USA eller indvandrere i Europa bliver voldsomt undertrykt. Når undertrykkelsens onde cirkel således fuldbyrdes, bliver det naturligt for hvide at bortrationalisere, at de afviste bor klods op ad deres egne luksushjem i usle shacks ofte mindre end denne oprindelige slavehytte. Eller som de hvide studenter ofte siger til mine foredrag: "Før jeg så dit show, faldt det mig aldrig ind, at der boede rigtige mennesker i de shacks!”



Alligevel er den dystre afgrund i vores sind, som afspejles af disse slumforhold, langt værre end på mine fotografier. Billederne viser ikke, hvordan vinden pifter gennem sprækkerne, hvilket gør det umuligt at holde varmen om vinteren, eller de sunkne rådne gulve med så brede sprækker, at slanger og skadedyr kravler direkte ind i stuen. Afmægtigheden, jeg føler i forsøget på at fotografere disse kvælende fornemmelser, afspejler den magtesløshed, som de pålægger vores indespærrede ofre. Selv om jeg havde haft råd til en vidvinkellinse til at registrere trangheden, kunne billederne ikke vise, at der ikke var rindende vand, toiletter, brusebad, eller elektricitet. Tusinder af amerikanere så jeg vokse op i petroleumslampens skær.

72

Jeg følte heller ikke, at jeg magtede at skildre den underlige psykiske fornemmelse ved pludselig at lade sig henføre til en tilstand, vi i Danmark ikke havde kendt de sidste 100 år – skønt det var herligt efter den kvælende støj, der karakteriserer amerikanske hjem, pludselig at opleve stilheden uden radio og TV. Bedrestillede liberale hvide uden frygt for, at der bliver lukket for elektriciteten, hævder ofte under mine foredrag, at de sorte burde være lykkelige af samme årsag. Med sådanne romantiske indstillinger afslører vi en ufølsom mangel på indsigt i den ufrivillige fattigdoms psykologi. Selv om man måske var lykkeligt fri for invasionen af reklamerne fra overflodssamfundet inde i sin shack, fik man alligevel sin udsigt og sine perspektiver ødelagt af de allestedsværende aggressive reklamer lige uden for hytten.