 |
| Plantation Overseer and His Field Hands, Near Clarksdale, Mississippi, 1936 Photographer: Dorothea Lange |
Sometimes Mr. Jefferson took us out for a Coke on Sunday afternoons when church was over, after the baptism by fire from God's Mississippi sun had all but dampened and wilted our Sunday best. He never let us miss an opportunity to come to church in all the years I knew him. That was Mr. Jefferson; he always had to have a car full of people to bring with before he even thought about stepping through those swinging church doors. Every Sunday at 9 a.m. he'd be outside my house with his wife and a charcoal Ford, honking that horn. On certain days I didn't feel like coming, he'd always make a point to stop in later and visit, and offer me and the boys to go out to lunch sometime, anyway. He'd take anyone out to eat, and talk about anything. "If Jesus was alive today, he'd be drinkin' Coca-Cola," he'd always say, "I bet he'd be a plantation man. Yes, sir. He'd be drinkin' the red, white, and blue, and nappin' in the shade; that's for damn sure." He always said a lot of strange stuff like that, that no one ever quite understood. Mr. Jefferson talked a little bit slower than most folks, a bit softer. He'd always pause between thoughts, like he was really thinking about something. Then he'd let a long draw of tobacco spit shine up the dirt, and tip back his afternoon flask of whiskey. "It's too hot in this Mississippi sun," he'd say. We'd just eat our food, and nod, "Sure is."
The last time I saw him was a Sunday, few days before he passed away. I saw him at the gorcer's, after I told him I didn't much care to go that church with him anymore. He understood, but told me something then that still rings clearer in my ears than any church organ or hymnal ever had. "Listen, I know a lot of folks down at the congregation might give ya certain eyes, and treat ya like yer different. I know 'cause I get the same. But dont' let a few opinions stop ya from being who ya are, from doing what ya need to do. Don't let anyone ever tell ya ya ain't never been worth a damn." Ever since he died I can never drink a Coke without thinking about my dear friend Mr. Jefferson, or about what he said that day. It was the 1930's in Mississippi. There was plenty of hate still burning in the veins of people claiming to be God's chosen, and there still is today. It's as hot as the Mississippi sun, burning on the back of every preacher, and on their tongues during the Sunday sermon. But not Mr. Jefferson; he'd been colorblind his whole life. All he ever wanted was to take us out for a Coke, cool down a bit, and see what was new. He was just tending to God's plantation. That's all he ever did.
Well, Kenny, despite the fact that you didn't actually do what the assignment asked, this is a fine piece of writing. I like the way you took an opposing view, a completely different aspect of what could be going on in this scene. It makes the point that what we think we can presume, just ain't so. It's a great writing prompt, which is I think what we'll be doing next class. You're ahead of the curve...
ReplyDeleteThank you, Jenny, for your comment!
DeleteI was unsure whether or not this was the right way to go about doing this assignment. While I know I didn't refer to any of the more technical aspects of photography to analyze the photo, I feel that there would have been no other way to get my interpretation across. Insofar as by holding to the academic strictures of technique, we often force ourselves to hold to the academic strictures of meaning, when other perfectly sensible perspectives exist. In other words, stifled definitions of technique would have dictated that there are only certain ways this photo can be interpreted.
I felt that I successfully analyzed its technique in a different sort of way, by trying to turn on its head how we even think of technique to begin with. I wanted to critique this photo from an alternate viewpoint, so I decided the only way for me to do this was by using alternate methods. If I had used more conventional methods and terms, my interpretation would have been doomed to fall into a trap of conventional meaning. By way of a very short story, I was allowed to break that cage to get at, what I really felt, could have been going on in this picture.
Thursday in class, we talked about developing our technique as writers by breaking outside of regular writing conventions that have been pounded into our head. So I feel that by disregarding all conventional means of critique and technical analysis, and breaking away from methods that say photography can only mean things in certain ways, that this method was truly a new technique in its own right, and therefore, the best sort of technique there is. There are certain things that even academic terms cannot describe, and cannot even begin to reach.
But I guess I'll find out in class on Tuesday!
Yup, I guess it will depend on whether Kirk is okay with the alternative method. I enjoyed it very much, myself. It's definitely an indirect approach, and takes more thinking to evaluate, since it's a bit obscure and not using the language we learned for evaluation. I didn't mean to offend you at all, it's a great piece. You're a cutting edge kind of guy...
DeleteKenny, there is a quote by Einstein; "You cannot solve a problem with the same thinking that created it".
ReplyDeleteAlthough your composition has unconventionally provided an answer to the assignment, it's a beautiful piece. The concept of the overseer being "colorblind" provides both a unique visual and perspective. I encourage you to continue your unconventional ways of doing things, since it both makes life much more interesting and may take you down a path that doesn't end where everyone else is headed.
You commented on the beginning paragraph to my Dorothea Lange response, (I started it by saying I wasn't very observant), and it made me laugh because the original piece I wrote was a story instead of an analysis but for fear of not accurately completing the assignment, I scratched that and wrote what is there now.
Very nice! Whether this is the kosher way to go about this assignment or not, it definitely grabbed my interest! Just one question: Based on your POV, the overseer was cast as a "good guy". What caused you to see him in that light? Reading over the blogs, I've seen him described separately as arrogant, proud, cranky, and dignified. I find it curious that we all have interpreted his character so differently.......
ReplyDeleteI realize why you created this story and it was diverting to read but I don't see why you defended the overseer here. There is no indication of family or signs of a close relationship with the workers. They are seen as part of the background and building, not as actual individuals. Other than that, good writing and good inner dialogue. Also liked your side-tangent of coca cola.
ReplyDeleteYeah, that's a good point. I guess I just thought it would add a little bit more depth to it if I put in some extra details that weren't present in the picture, like family relations. As for the workers, I guess I'm probably at fault there. If anything, I'm glad this seems to be generating a fair amount of conversation.
DeleteGood fun this. thank you for not becoming an analytical vampire and draining any potential for creative awesomeness from the assignment. This reactionary creation is alongside the lines of one of my favorite writing warm ups where I isolate one or two concepts from a song, photo, movie, candy wrapper or whatever else I find in my sweaty palms and just flail at it with an irrationally stoned and self-indulgent fervor. Good fun.
ReplyDelete