Parallels

There are some surprising parallels between our village life and world politics.

A friend of mine is involved in a village society where the leadership is not in its first flush of youth – but then most of us aren’t.

Anyway, they are looking for the next generation of leadership and my friend, who may be in the running for a (small) leadership role, said it was like being groomed by ISIS.

You are contacted, flattered, people keep in touch with you, you are told that the rewards are great and that you will be doing this for a great cause – and of course you are vetted.

As far as I know you don’t have to travel to Syria or take up arms and very little is done via any form of social media – and the people involved do not wear masks – at least not yet.

I hesitate to say you have to bring cakes – preferably baked by yourself – but for all I know, ISIS has the same rules.

And then there is the coup.

In our case, the leadership of a village institution was said to be rather undemocratic.

(Please bear with me on this rather vague stuff about who is who and what is what, but rather to my surprise some people in the village are reading this blog so I have to be careful or there will be people on my back step with angry faces – remind me to tell you sometime of my best- beloved angering Israel and then Mosad arriving on the back step – though I am not drawing parallels of course.)

Anyway, the village institution was said to be rather undemocratic and ‘things needed to be done!’

The leader was told that ‘things’ were afoot and he graciously stood aside.

On the night, a member of the institution was briefed to nominate a person as second in command, the vice-chair or president or whatever it was.

Unfortunately that person had a senior moment and instead of nominating the person waiting the in the wings to take over, she nominated someone with a vaguely similar name who was shocked and surprised to find himself carried aloft to his new role.

Now he is rather harassed by the previous incumbent’s emails on what he should and shouldn’t do.

I will bet there is many a vice-president of a small African nation who finds himself in a not too dissimilar position.

Finally, a rant, though this is pure village stuff and has no parallels.

As, dear reader, you will recall, we ran the village Festivities bookshop with a few great people and a round up of locals from the pub.

(I’m not sure I mentioned it, but I will now. By the weekend of the Festivities we had got 91 banana boxes to one place in the village but they had to be moved to the final destination. I was not sure we would have enough muscle so on our usual Friday evening visit to the pub, I went round everyone who looked ‘likely’ and asked if they would come the next morning to shift a load of books. One great person got her Dad’s large trolley and other people carried boxes and all were shifted in just over an hour – thank you!)

Well, in a recent parish magazine, there was a severe complaint from a person who is quite practiced at severe complaints, about the fact there were not enough people stepping up to the plate on village committees.

Now, though I don’t get involved, I hear that this really means, “ We people of certain standing want some of you lot to come and get on with the drudge stuff (and bake cakes) whilst we, people of a certain standing, make the decisions. And one day, one day mind you, you can take over as long as you are groomed and listen attentively to how it should be done.’

I’m minded to put a bit in the parish magazine reminding the severe woman that not only did the bookstall – with no committee – raise £1,000 but that the vibrant, fun and very successful Choir Called Dave runs without any vice-anythings or a committee of any sort.

Strange Fruit

I was listening to a great Radio 4 programme the other day called Soul Music.

The series takes a piece of music and finds people (god only knows how they do the research) who can talk about why it means something significant to them.

Anyway, this was about Strange Fruit sung by Billie Holliday.

I was sitting at my kitchen table but it took me straight back to driving up the A1 on a sunny evening, watching hot air balloons fly over the crops.

There is something about some music that just takes you back to where, and it has to be where, you heard it last or it made an impression on you.

If you don’t know it, Strange Fruit is about lynching in America.

Yes, it’s shocking.

You should listen to it, great programme. http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b03jb1w1

It got me fiddling around on Google and Wikipedia as you do when the risotto does not need your immediate attention…..

In 1916 in Waco – a city then thought to be progressive but since well known for anything but progressiveness – a young black man called Jessie Washington pleaded guilty to the rape of a white woman.

He was quickly sentenced to death in a courtroom full of furious locals.

He was straight away dragged from the courtroom and lynched in front of the town hall.

10,000 people watched including local officials, police, children and people on their lunch-break.

A professional photographer was there and it was his images which helped change views on lynching.

See the images https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lynching_of_Jesse_Washington

Some five years later in 1921 Leonadis C Dyer from St Louis sponsored an anti-lynching bill which was passed by the House of Representatives, but a Senate filibuster by white Democrats blocked it and defeated it.

As they did for several years to come.

Meanwhile there were many lynchings of young black men.

In 1964, three Mississippi civil rights workers were abducted and lynched.

But the murder, including hanging from a tree, by two Klu Klux Klan members, of Michael Donald is though to be the last recorded lynching.

It was in 1981.

God knows we Brits have a lot to answer for but at least we don’t claim we are the Land of the Free.

This all got me thinking about one of the best books I have ever read.

It is called Praying for Sheetrock by Melissa Fay Greene.

It is about a civil rights ‘campaign’ (and I put that in quotation marks because it was a local action rather than a big campaign.)

Here is the blurb from the back of the book,

‘Set in the Deep South of the 1970s, this superb book tells the true story of the political awakening of a tiny black community. Here the people of McIntosh County, Georgia tell of their own experiences – stories that are outrageous, funny, eloquent and touching – in a historic struggle for civil equality.’

I remember reading it for the first time, years ago, and having to remind myself that this was in the 70s.

Not in the 20s or 30s or even 40s – but in the 70s when I was listening to Rod Stewart.

( Of course, I had leant my copy – and several later-bought copies – and couldn’t find one so I had to buy it again…)

I think it is now out of print but you can get it via www.bookfinder.com and I urge you to read it.

It is brilliant and moving.