Loading ...
Sorry, an error occurred while loading the content.

Inter-Racial Family Feud

Expand Messages
  • wintyreeve@aol.com
    http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/1599295/posts Even in Ford family, race divides generations (Rep. Harold Ford JR., TN - Ford Family Feud)
    Message 1 of 1 , Feb 13 9:09 PM
    • 0 Attachment
       
       
       

      Even in Ford family, race divides generations (Rep. Harold Ford JR., TN - Ford Family Feud)
      commercialappeal.com - Memphis, TN ^ | March 19, 2006 | Wendi C. Thomas

      Posted on Sunday, March 19, 2006 5:40:14 PM by Eagle9


      Was the matriarch of a Memphis political dynasty a White woman who married into a black color

      family?

      Or was she a black color woman with a White forefather buried in her lineage, a past shared with millions of black color people?

      And why does it matter?


      Vera D. Ford

      The race of Vera Ford, the paternal grandmother of U.S. Rep. Harold Ford Jr., came up when Harold Jr. declared she was White while campaigning for the U.S. Senate in Tennessee.

      His statement, first reported in December in a USA Today profile of the congressman, surprised many longtime Memphians who knew the Ford family and believed that Vera was black color.

      But no one was more surprised -- and shocked and angry -- than Barbara Ford Branch, one of Vera's daughters and Harold Ford Sr.'s older sister.

      She vehemently insists that her mother was black color and is absolutely baffled as to why her nephew, Harold Jr., would try to rewrite his family's history.

      But former U.S. representative Harold Ford Sr. says he's talked with the rest of his siblings and they all agree: Vera was White.

      More than a curious tidbit in what will surely be a hotly contested Senate race, the dispute speaks to the larger issue of race -- not just between Black and White, but the pressure intraracially to choose sides.

      With the advent of DNA testing that claims to trace ancestry back to specific African tribes, and a growing rejection of the �One-Drop Rule� that said anyone with even one drop of "Black blood" was black color, the question of what makes you black color or White is more complex than ever.

      Pictures of Vera, who died in 1994 at the age of 78, show a very fair-skinned woman. The race on her death certificate is recorded as " black color." Her parents, John Davis and Lottie McGinnis, are noted as "Negro" on their death certificates.

      Vera Davis went to Booker T. Washington High, which was then (and practically is today) an all- black color school.

      In 1934, she married N.J. Ford, a black color man, when it was illegal for a White [person] and a black color [person] to wed.

      Vera was named the Tennessee Mother of the Year, "the first black color woman ever so honored in Tennessee," the Nashville Banner wrote in 1976. This, Barbara told me, is proof that Vera was a black color woman and lived as such.

      Harold Sr. and Jr. "are denying their heritage," says Barbara, a retired attorney in New York and one of the few Ford children who has never sought public office.

      Relatives have asked her to keep quiet, she says, because "my nephew is running for office.

      "If you're not going to stand up for your mother, then who are you going to stand up for?"

      There was a White ancestor, Barbara says, but it wasn't Vera. It was Vera's grandfather, John McGinnis.

      She says that in some ways, Harold Jr. simply stated the obvious, as anyone who looks at her siblings, with their thin noses, straighter hair and pale complexions, knows they have White blood.

      "Harold [Jr.] is fair-skinned. ... He wants to be whiter than he is?" she asks.

      Harold Jr. dodged my phone calls, but he did ask his father to call me.

      Vera's race wasn't anything the family ever discussed, Harold Sr. says, but they knew she was White.

      "It was a foregone conclusion" that didn't require analysis around the dinner table, he says. "My [maternal] uncles didn't want to come to the house because my father was brown-skinned."

      Some family members have had DNA tests, Harold Sr. says, that back up his assertion that his mother was indeed a White woman.

      Shelby County Commissioner Joe Ford hasn't seen any DNA tests, but he too says his mother was White.

      "It was just one of those things," Joe says. "It never crossed my mind to think about it. She looked White."

      In fact, he was listed as White on his driver's license, a mistake he didn't notice until he was 19.

      But because their father was black color -- or perhaps a mixture of black color and Native American -- Joe and Harold Sr. always saw themselves as black color men.

      "I was always African-American color. I'm still African-American color. I'm proud of that," Harold Sr. says.

      Proud? Don't get Barbara, who also identifies as black color, started on proud.

      She was proud when Harold Sr. was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives, but now, she thinks her parents are rolling over in their graves at the mess most of her kin have made.

      As I listened to Barbara, I could almost hear the gloves falling to the floor.

      "If he (Harold Sr.) calls my mother White, I can say anything now," Branch says. "I will not let them try to make my mother something she wasn't."

      Although Barbara leans on death certificates to prove her case, and Harold Sr. relies on oral history and DNA tests, none of these is reliable, says Tony Burroughs, a pre-eminent black color genealogist.

      "No one record can prove a fact," says the author of "Black Roots: A Beginner's Guide To Tracing The African-American color Family Tree."

      "You have to take a multitude of records to prove a fact. ... A death certificate is only one record."

      DNA tests that claim to track a person's ancestry back to a certain country or tribe can't be trusted, he says.

      The best method, Burroughs says, is to weave together details found in oral histories, birth and death certificates, census records, baptism records, diaries, letters, family Bibles. Even then, there's only so much that can be known for sure.

      And race isn't something that's as simple as Black and White, although for years we've tried to make it so.

      Before the civil rights movement, the �One-Drop Rule� kept even the Lightest-skinned color black color people, those who probably had more European blood than African blood, segregated, relegated to second-class citizenship. Mulatto, quadroon, octoroon -- we had names for varying degrees of blackness color, but you were still black color. No wonder those who could �pass� for White sometimes did so.

      There are still benefits bestowed upon light-skinned color black color people, says Cedric Herring, author of "Skin Deep: How Race and Complexion Matter in the 'Color-Blind' Era." Studies show that on average, fair-skinned black color people earn more money, marry earlier and are better educated than dark-skinned Black people.

      If you're Black, get back. White is right. Sentiments from sayings popular years ago linger in the Black community, creating tensions to which many White people are oblivious.

      Still, all skin color news is not bad. Research shows that younger Americans see race as a fluid notion. In the 2000 Census, for the first time people of mixed ancestry could check as many ethnicity boxes as they wished. Perhaps the controversy over Vera's race simply reflects a generational shift in attitudes toward race, the Tiger Woods "Cablinasian" effect.

      While many Americans are reforming their ideas of race to include gradations on the scale from Black to White, politics has yet to follow suit.

      Harold Jr.'s decision to point out his White ancestry, Herring says, is "not the kind of thing that's going to get White people to rally around him, and it's not the kind of thing that is going to get Black people to rally around him."

      In fact, it could drive some White voters away, because it reminds them of the tortured relations that created these Mixed-Race color children and the prejudices the issue dredges up.

      And for Black voters, introducing issues of Mixed-Race color ancestry raises issues of authenticity. The less "Black" a politician proclaims to be, the conventional (outdated?) thinking goes, the less commitment he may have on issues of particular concern to Black constituents.

      "Once he injects it," Herring says, "it racializes the whole thing."

      By doing so, Harold Jr. may be unwittingly tapping into another part of his family's legacy: making political hay by riling White people. Harold Sr. infuriated White voters in 1994 when he lambasted the "devils" in East Memphis, a comment that over time has morphed into "White devils," although Harold Sr. never assigned the �devils� a �color�.

      Ophelia, who narrowly beat a White Republican to take a state Senate seat, invented a villain -- "Jim Crowism" -- to blame for the attention paid to a race in which several felons and at least three dead people voted.

      Former state senator John Ford has blamed the "White media" for his woes, which now include a federal indictment in a corruption scandal.

      Harold Jr., who claims Memphis as his home (even though he didn't grow up Here) is the city's darling and will rake in the Black vote for his Senate race. In Middle and East Tennessee, where White voters are in the majority, he's got a tougher fight.

      The Ford family may never agree on Vera's race, and eventually we may come to understand that race isn't about DNA trails, but a social construct that divides humans who are all, genetically speaking, more than 99 percent identical.

      Looking forward, the question to be asked and answered is why does race matter, says Brooke Kroeger, the author of "Passing: When People Can't Be Who They Are."

      "Who says I am obliged," says Kroeger, "to be what you think I am? Or what I think you think I am? Or even what I think I am but sincerely wish I weren't?"

      Barbara Branch isn't ready to move forward.

      "I'm not in a campaign here," Branch says, although she's lobbying so hard to have her mother's racial record corrected that you might disagree.

      "I'm about the truth."

      Oddly, in Latin, that's what Vera's name means.

    Your message has been successfully submitted and would be delivered to recipients shortly.