By Randall Robinson
Randall Robinson's protecting The Spirit is a private account of his upward thrust from poverty within the segregated south to a place as probably the most distinctive and outspoken political activists of our time. In 1977, Robinson based TransAfrica, the 1st association to foyer for the pursuits of African and Caribbean peoples. TransAfrica was once instrumental within the liberate of Nelson Mandela from legal in South Africa and the reinstatement of President Aristide in Haiti. Robinson's considerate and provocative memoir paints a bright photo of racism within the hallowed halls of Harvard, the place he went to legislation institution, in addition to the corridors of strength in Washington, D.C. He additionally recounts in interesting aspect his journeys to distressed African and Caribbean international locations; greater than a person else, he has raised understanding of the issues in these nations. protecting The Spirit additionally supplies a devastating observation on America's international coverage endeavors in African and Caribbean countries, and an impassioned name to African-Americans for brand spanking new management and activism to struggle racism world wide.
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Additional info for Defending the Spirit: A Black Life in America
She was very smart. She had a natural savoir-faire and an instinctive taste for the arts, both aural and visual. ) She was also one of those people who by divine authority selflessly tells rudderless lesser mortals what to do. But doesn’t every fourteen-year-old think his older sister is bossy? ■ Fall 1955: Towson, Maryland Mr. Harry Williams was the principal of Maggie Walker High School, the other black high school in Richmond. Mr. Williams and Daddy had coached together at Armstrong years before.
If Daddy appears from this rendering to have been inflexible and humorless, that was not the case. Even less so in retrospect. A red Rambler story will illustrate my point. Less than a week after persuading Daddy to co-sign my car loan (co-sign is a bit of a stretch; I was only seventeen so he must have signed alone), I was tooling across the Marshall Street viaduct going toward Churchill and home when I looked in my rearview mirror and noticed I was being dangerously tailgated by a high-riding black truck.
Through the smoke, the lettering high on the hood of the black truck came into view: ECILOP The wail of the siren and revolving red light atop the patrol wagon gave me a start. Nervous, I pulled over and stopped in the block beyond the bridge, forgetting to engage the clutch. The car bucked and died. “License and registration,” demanded the dour white police officer. I rummaged about in the glove compartment and retrieved the three-day-old temporary registration card. I fumbled in my wallet and pulled out a temporary driver’s license issued by the Division of Motor Vehicles exactly nineteen minutes before I was stopped.
Defending the Spirit: A Black Life in America by Randall Robinson