Atlanta GA

We spent the weekend in Atlanta, discovering a city with a tragic past and a refreshing future. The trip started with art. The High Museum, impressive with acclaimed architects Piano and Meier contributing their talents to produce a design that combines the best elements of the New York Guggenheim (circular galleries along a descending ramp) and high ceilings with natural light, characteristic of museums from Washington to Los Angeles. The main exhibit featured Mexican painters Frieda Kahlo and Diego Rivera. I watched the Salma Hayek film, directed by Julie Taymor so I was familiar with their work. I like the reproduction of Rivera’s murals (that one that Rockefeller destroyed) and another about labor rights and communism. I bought a print that featured Emilio Zapata as I liked Rivera’s depiction of revolution and struggle amongst his many other subjects. His work reminds me of BenCab and his series on the Philippine revolution and undoubtedly, Rivera influenced other artist like Botero with his large rounded figures.

The Museum had an interesting section on modern art, (a wall of speakers shaped like a Birmingham church that represented the civil rights struggle) and a section on native folk art by self-taught artists. The next stop was Martin Luther King historical district where we dutifully looked through the audio visual exhibits at the visitor center, walked the streets where MLK lived (Auburn Avenue), visited the large house of his youth - the home of his father, the local fire station which had no African American firemen and the Ebenezer Baptist church where both MLK junior and senior preached. A sermon of MLK junior was played over the speakers inside the historic church, which for me was the high light, his rich melodious voice gliding along the empty wooden benches, the pulpit and the altar filled with his presence that one ‘feels’ the throbbing of history. One has in mind Einstein’s remark of Gandhi: in wonder that someone as noble and heroic as MLK once walked these streets. 

The evening dinner was Bangladeshi food in Panahar restaurant, where we had chicken in sweet yellow curry with almonds, lamb masala, mango chutney, basmati rice with peas cooked in butter, naan bread and mango lassi. I had trouble sleeping with my full stomach and the ruckus of my motel neighbors and the frequent police sirens. The next day, Easter Sunday, started with breakfast at Waffle house where we had rib-eye steak, hash browns, toast bread and scrambled eggs. We went to mass at the Catholic Church of Christ the King in Peachtree Street, filled to the brim with Easter worshippers, dressed out in formal elegant finery, women in nice coats and men in blue jackets with gold buttons, small children wailing and the priest giving an uninspiring sermon to the wealthy patrons of Atlanta. Next stop was the Jimmy Carter museum which opened at noon, so we walked the elegant gardens and finished the leftover breakfast of steak in one of the picnic tables in the park. 

The Jimmy Carter museum was impressive, perhaps the highlight of our visit, where the displays were intelligently done, particularly the computerized exhibit about the presidential archives and the worldwide work of the Carter Center; the recreation of the Oval Office was also impressive and the part on the Camp David accords. I have been an admirer of Carter since reading his books; especially his early life in the rural south and about the Middle East. His vision and work in the Carter Center is the future; NGOs helping governments and foreign cultures solve health problems, reduce conflict and help societies transition to democracy. The museum was atop a hill overlooking the city of Atlanta, with the impressive buildings in the distance, near the exact spot where General William Sherman plotted the battle that ended in the fall of Atlanta and the re-election of Abraham Lincoln. But modern Atlanta represents the New South, touted by Jimmy Carter and the state, where new ideas abound and the shadow of Jim Crow no longer around. 

The last stop was the Margaret Mitchell’s apartment along Peachtree Street, where the author wrote her celebrated novel ‘Gone with the Wind,’ the fall of the old South with the backdrop of slavery and old aristocratic families plus the celebrated film with Hollywood stars, directors and screen writers bringing the book to life. We missed the tour but looked through the exhibits and watched the Hollywood documentary. Perhaps it was fitting to end this trip in the old house, like a travel in reverse, where one should have started in the pre-Civil War era, slavery, the War Between the States, reconstruction, MLK and civil rights, Jimmy Carter and the new South, the High Museum and finally the Carter center with the elegant gardens and lake overlooking the city. Normally one visits the tourist traps like our first visit: Coca Cola center, CNN, Atlanta Hawks stadium and perhaps the Aquarium. One would not see the layers the enveloped the city and the amazing stories hidden underneath.

Race Relations

I watched a biographical movie about Martin Luther King last weekend. Tonight is also the premier of the PBS documentary ‘Freedom Riders.’ After watching the movie, it felt like peeling a layer and seeing something unpleasant that one did not think exited. It all started with the book ‘The Secret Life of Bees.’ Such an innocent title to learn about segregation and race relations in the Deep South.  If one is from another continent, one is ignorant of the struggles faced by the African-American community preferring instead the sanitized version of Hollywood movies. For instance, one watches Sidney Poitier in the brilliant film ‘In the Heat of the Night’ or film clips of MLK speaking in front of the Lincoln memorial; thinking that these were the only notable incidents in the struggle. What is missing is the day to day violence inflicted on anti-segregationists in places like Alabama and Tennessee. The movie on MLK was an eye opener that reveals the violence one never thought existed in such as country like this one.

 Perhaps the shocking thing is realizing that bigotry and prejudice exists in the most wholesome of peoples. Watching the scenes where non-violent protestors are hosed down by fire houses, tear gassed, attacked by dogs and beaten by police and racist bystanders is heart wrenching. Looks are deceiving and one could be fooled into thinking that all is well but in fact one’s next door neighbor or co-worker can be a racist or member of the Ku Klus Klan. The ugly face of racism is again rearing its face in the recent personal attacks on the president. The brilliance of the anti – segregationist struggle is to follow Mahatma Gandhi’s non-violence movement. A frontal violent assault would have failed but the act of putting a mirror in front of a people and, thereby, transform their consciousness is unbeatable. The ugly spectacle of Bull Conner ordering the assault on children and non-violent protestors turned the tide towards transformation.

The wave of anti-segregation, civil and voting rights could not be overturned if advanced via a non-violent strategy. But like the civil war, it was the southern states that needed to be transformed again. Most of the freedom riders came from the Northeastern states especially the non African Americans (i.e. white folks). It was this integrated and non-violent action that changed the minds of most Southerners. But not everyone it seems. Perhaps it was the killings of the Kennedy brothers and MLK when people started to feel disgusted about segregation and the general brutality of the times. It was the realization that the dream of the founding fathers may be a hoax unless people stand up. It’s the transformation of ordinary Southern folks like the young heroine in ‘The Secret Life of Bees’ that really counted. Gandhi said the struggle of the African – American minority against the white majority will be the true test of his ideas on non- violent struggle.

Last weekend, it was reported that South Asian Indians have overtaken Filipinos as the second largest ethnic group in the country. It’s an interesting fact that the people of Gandhi would also benefit from the anti-segregationist victory. Sadly, Gandhi and non-violence proponents like MLK would perish under violent circumstances. But the world is a better place and more diverse. For instance, the governor has an Indian ancestry while the president is African American. Perhaps the real story about this country is about diversity and not about being a super power or being an economic power or being the best military force in the world. It’s not about having the most number of millionaires or billionaires or Nobel Prize awardees or brilliant economists, writers or intellectuals. Perhaps it’s the story of a people’s transcendence of their own shortcomings to become better. It’s no longer a white country but a more diverse and perhaps forgiving one. It’s a microcosm of the world.

Maybe this is the underlying theme of the country. Its greatness is not the economic theories of capitalism and free markets but diversity. Diversity that is enforced by a true democracy. But before one gets all fired up and spiritual, one needs to have faith in order to survive. It’s like a sort of hope of the Islamic radical who believes in the treasures of heaven when he blows himself up. It’s the belief in a better tomorrow that one persists in believing in order to remain in this country. A country that often has episodes of senseless violence and inequality. But what does one care except to hope that tomorrow will be good for one’s children. One has turned a corner once one understands the violent past of the South. One no longer becomes a tourist but to be amazed and vigilant that such transcendence has occurred. One day one should pay homage to this struggle and the PBS documentary is a step in that direction. One wonders why it took so long.