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Nas2EndWork "Pamela's Blogs":

Blog 1: "You Know How I Know You're a Slave?"

 

Blog 2: "Where the Hell is Vasquez When We Really Need Her?"

 

 

Blog 3: "How Do I Con Thee? Let Me Count the Ways...Or: What Is 'Individual Freedom'?"

 

Blog 4: "Is It Never Too Late to Be the Parent I Should Have Been?"

 

 

Blog 5: "Are We Innocent When We Dream?"

 

Blog 6: "To Enlarge the Realm of the Possible"

 

 

Blog 7: "Bury the Corpse!"

 

Blog 8: "Just Say NO! Make Coke the First Corpse to Go!"

 

Blog 9: "Compassion Always Comes Too Late"

Blog 10: "To Live and Die a Slave?"

 

Blog 11: "Crime Is The Flip Side"

 

 

Blog 12: "Rocket Science Ain't Rocket Science"

 

Blog 13: "The Fuck-It Factor"

 

 

Blog 14: "How Do You Organize (Our World) Without Hierarchy?"

 

Blog 15: "Eating What The Earth Gives Me"

 

 

Blog 16: "When You Become A Voice Of The Voiceless"

 

Blog 17: "You Got To Sucker The Corn Or the Ears Won't Be Worth Nothin'"

 

 

Blog 18: "Packaging Our Children For The Podrunks"

 

Blog 19: "The Good Livers"

 

 

Blog 20: "Is There Such A Thing As "Voicelessness"?"

 

Blog 21: "Brandon Terrell Jones"

 

 

Blog 22: "Our Real Work"

 

 

Blog 23: "Gennenice Chapman Johnson"

 

Blog 24: "What Is Your 'Theory of Change'?"

 

 

Blog 25: "The Plum Tree"

 

Blog 26: "Wholism Is A Health Issue"

 

 

Blog 27: "Who's Loving You Michael?"

 

Blog 28: "Getting Busy"

 

Blog 29: "Depopulation"

 

Blog 30: "Growing A Mass Movement"

 

Blog 31: "Ridley's Choice"

 

Blog 32: "Children Of The Technology"

 

Blog 33: "The Devastated Earthscapes From Lawrence Summers' "Logic""

 

Blog 34: "How Do We Grow A Mass Movement?"

 

Blog 35: "We Have To Make A Loud Noise"

 

Blog 36: "The Phoenix"

 

Blog 37: "Wind-Blown Seeds Need Roots"

 

Blog 38: "Embracing The Plural"

 

Blog 39: "Round And Round And Round We Go But Not Merrily"

 

Blog 40: "Unplugging"

 

Blog 41: "Thank You Sandy From Petaluma"

 

Blog 42: "You Got City Hands Mr. Hooper"

 

Blog 43: "Letter to Michael Reynolds"

 

Blog 44: "The Last Civil Rights Movement"

 

Blog 45: "The 4 R's: The Ruses Used To Rend Us...Race, Religion, Reason, and Recognition - 1"

 

Blog 46: "The 4 Ruses - 2"

 

Blog 47: "The 4 Ruses - 3"

 

Blog 48: "The Responsibility Of The Intellectual"

 

Blog 49: "The Hidden Malevolence: AKA Michael Moore's Dilemma"

 

Blog 50: "Wading Into The Muck Of State"

 

Blog 51: "Seeing The Communal Alternative"

 

Blog 52: "Becoming The Function"

Pamela's Blog 17

Published on Thursday, June 4, 2009 by Nas2EndWork.org

“You Got To Sucker The Corn Or The Ears Won't Be Worth Nothin'

by Pamela Satterwhite

 

Mrs. Trotter’s forgotten more than I’ll ever know about growing things.

She’s a mystery to me, is Mrs. Trotter. Sorta like Barack Obama – pardon me, President Barack Obama.

 

Do you know when I first began to consider the possibility that he was something...extra...? Don’t laugh. It was when, early ’08, I heard a sistah on the radio say, “When he goes to bed at night, I know there’s a black woman lying next to him…”


I sat up…“What?”

 

You would’ve had to grow up black in America to appreciate the significance of that. Seriously.

 

After that, I heard someone I trust say on the radio that Barack Obama's memoir was “astonishing.”


OK, I best to check him out, is what I thought.


And with Dreams in hand, each page my jaw was droppin’ more than the page before.


“Huh?”


I couldn’t figure it out…a black man in America who’d survived intact – undistorted by those racism-hits, that you have to take, over and over and over…

 

How’d that happen?


It was like lightning striking, or…I don’t know what…pigs flying, cats crying…you just don’t see it very often.

 

Well, Mrs. Trotter was born in Louisiana in 1924, moved to Arkansas, moved back to Louisiana, sharecropped most of her life.


In black communities we all know that the sick system of “slavery” worked us out. I mean, a whole lot of us didn’t want to hear the word “farmin’” no more, after that. We'd been worked ’til we dropped and knew deep in our souls the whole thing is a con. Yet we never articulated our “knowing” in such a way that we could free ourselves from the ‘Doubt,’ imposed by the system, that maybe we were “lazy,” “no-’count”…


But somehow none of that touched Mrs. Trotter. She loves to grow things. She likes to work with her hands. It makes her feel good.


There’s something a little wild about Mrs. Trotter, something pre-dream and reliable. It speaks to me.


It does.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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