Dr. Bernice Johnson Reagon and Her Words About Struggle

“Bernice Reagon is a living treasure in an institution used to dealing with static treasures. When you meet her, you know there’s something there – a vision, a focus, a drive, an intensity – and that’s never changed.”—Ralph Rinzler, Smithsonian Asst Secretary for Public Service

“For more than a half-century Bernice Johnson Reagon has been a major cultural voice for freedom and justice; singing, teaching—speaking out against reacism and organized inequities of all kinds. A child of Southwest Georgia, an African American woman’s voice, born in the struggle against racism in America during the Civil Rights Movement of the 50’s and 60’s. Reagon’s life and work supports the concept of community based culture with an enlarged capacity for mutual respect: for self, for those who move among us who seem to be different than us, respect and care for our home, the environment—including the planet that sustains life as we know it.”—from www.bernicejohnsonreagon.com

Dr. Bernice Johnson was a musician, producer, scholar, activist, composer, commentator… and an invaluable role model.

I know her work through reading histories of the Civil Rights Movement, through seeing her perform at a number of Sweet Honey in the Rock concerts, and through her writings. Her example, her art, and her counsel about struggle have given me strength, courage, and clarity. It’s the clarity I want to talk about in this blog. I’m going to focus on three memes that are on my screensaver. These are quotations by Dr. Johnson. Here’s the first:

I am lost a lot. I’m autistic, an incest survivor, a woman living with hidden disability, and a lesbian feminist in a neurodivergent, misogynist, heterosexist, ableist, rape culture. I am frequently overwhelmed, scapegoated, confused, and frustrated. Frequently. This advice by Dr. Johnson reminds me that this is to be expected. No shame. Pick yourself up and go back. And for me, that going-back means going back to my first encounter with Second Wave women’s writing, my first encounters with the writing from the women from the Civil Rights movement… Fanny Lou Hamer, Ella Baker, Rosa Parks, Shirley Chisholm, Barbara Smith, Audre Lorde, Toni Cade Bambara, Dr. Johnson.

These words helped me understand that I was not crazy, and that I was not alone. They helped me understand the significance of “context,” and that without my own context I would understand myself the way the enemy wanted me to understand myself. Creating my own context, I could see my enemy exactly for who he is. This meme reminds me it’s not enough to go back to a memory. I need to start "doing" again. I need to start doing whatever I was doing when I was not lost. And for me, that is generating work that makes myself visible to myself, that gives voice to the women like me whose voices have been stolen or silenced. This meme reminds me of a piece of recovery wisdom: You can start over at any time.

This is the next meme that continues to alter the course of my life. We humans are social creatures and when we are uncomfortable in social settings, that can mean that we need to adjust our behaviors or attitudes… or that we may be somewhere we do not belong. That discomfort can be interpreted as a warning sign of danger.

Remembering this bit of wisdom from Dr. Johnson enables me to do a self-intervention. I can recalibrate: “I’m in coalition and I’m insanely uncomfortable; therefore I must be nailing it.” I don’t change my position. I don’t apologize. I don’t get up and leave. I stay, I fight, I work. I’m in the right place and doing the right things. The discomfort is normal. It’s healthy. It’s productive. This IS the work. How you do something is what you get. This is bigger than myself and bigger than my ego. As an autistic person, I can have difficulty interpreting my own discomfort as well as the discomfort of other people. Dr. Johnson reminds me that their discomfort can also be healthy and productive. Allow others the lessons of their own struggles.

My final screensaver is not a meme. It was a posting on Toshi Reagon’s Facebook page. It’s the story of a conversation between her and her mother, and it made a deep impression on me. I am frequently up in arms over some fresh outrage… politically, culturally, socially. I am often calling for my sword and my best horse. Today I grab onto these words by the “Queen Mother” instead: “You will not kill people today. They are already dead. Let us move forward.”

I work with “they are already dead.” What did she mean when she said that? Clearly they are not! Look how angry I am! But I defer to the Queen Mother who has fought way more battles and way more successfully than I could ever imagine. So what does this mean? I think it means that they have already left the field… or, rather, the field has left them. The field that I am fighting on is somewhere else, something else. The fact that their values are so utterly foreign to mine should make them dead to me in terms of the teeming array of brilliant beings that inform my world… real and imaginary. Which leads right into the next question:

Dr. Reagon and Toshi Reagon

“Have I done my work?” Isn't this my work... the constant charging out the door? Dr. Johnson reminds me that it probably is not. It’s one more way the patriarchy and rape culture absorb my energies and eat my spirit. Fighting them or subordinating myself to them, they still win: I am not able to pursue my own vision.

Yeah, vision. Dr. Johnson again: “Had my anger wiped away or cleared my vision?” Nearly always wiped it away or distorted it.

And here is a sentence that lights up the night sky: “She reminded me not to hover over dead places I had no intention of reviving.” Okay, truth here: 99% of the time when I am riding out to do battle, I could care less about reviving the institution or the individual with whom I intend to engage. I am fighting to win, to defeat, to overcome, to wipe out an enemy. I am fighting to make it absolutely clear that me, and my views, and my values shall prevail and dominate. I could care less about the spiritual life of the entities opposing me. Isn't that the model for warriors? No. Not when I remember that Dr. Johnson is one of the greatest warriors who lived in my time. This is the model: “She reminded me not to hover over dead places I had no intention of reviving.”

Again, the word "dead." Already dead. Done. Move on.

And then she ends with this “She told me my only failure in life would be if I could not access my heart to create.” And if I have been struggling with her words prior to this, reluctant to give up my oh-so-righteous fight, this sentence wipes the board clean in one sweep, and I surrender. This is so completely correct. I’ve lived it. I’ve proved it. I know failure and I know success, and she is absolutely right.

My disability includes extreme fatigue, and I suspect the incessant, autistic drive for confronting injustice is a big piece of this. I thought I was being intrepid, noble, self-sacrificing, and sometimes even awesome in these confrontations. That they had disabled me and in all likelihood would end by killing me just seemed like some kind of inescapable collateral damage. This little anecdote as recounted by Dr. Johnson’s daughter has turned my approach to life on its head when nothing else could. Not even death.

I’m not someone who gets physical tattoos, but I do collect psychic ones, and the words of Dr. Johnson are tattooed on my soul. They are the metaphysical letterhead for my agendas. Cultural commentator David Brooks writes about "deterioration of motive," which occurs when fear and a sense of threat enter the chat. This is the point when engagement becomes nonproductive and destructive. Dr. Johnson's advice provides me with a standard against which I can check my intentions and I am so grateful to her.

And one final meme... It's been a privilege to live on the planet at the same time as Dr. Bernice Johnson Reagon.