Announcements: - President Kathy announced a meeting of the Auction Committee following today’s meeting and reminded everyone that Friday night is the annual Kent Rotary Auction at Underwood Hall at 6 pm.
- Carol Crimi announced that the next Foundation meeting will be held on May 31st. Rotarians are urged to submit proposals for funding to be reviewed by Foundation board members by May 23.
Paul Harris Fellows: President Kathy presented Rotarian Steve Dennis with his first Paul Harris Fellow award. She also awarded Anita Herington, Sue Hetrick, Brian Bialik, Larry Lohman, and Christine Bhargava for achieving multiple Paul Harris status. Finally, she congratulated Carol Crimi for her Paul Harris +5 award. May Programs: Asad Khan introduced May programs with the topic of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion reflecting Rotary International’s Code of Conduct. It is our goal to welcome people with perspectives most of us don’t often hear. May programs are listed elsewhere in this Bulletin. Today’s Program: Mwatabu S. Okantah, Chair and Professor in the Department of Africana Studies at Kent State University. Before Bill Childers introduced today’s speaker, he reminded us of events related to the commemoration of May 4, 1970 when four students were killed by National Guardsmen and nine were wounded on Kent State’s campus. A candlelight vigil starts at 11 pm at the Victory Bell. At noon on May 4 there will be a program on the Commons. Pulitzer Prize winning historian Jon Meacham will deliver the May 4th Keynote Address at 7 pm in the Ballroom. Bill also noted the death last year of Alan Canfora, first of the nine wounded to pass away. Today’s speaker, best known by his last name, Okantah, first came to Kent State as a student from his home in New Jersey. He was recruited by Kent as a track and field athlete and came, against the advice of family and friends, in the Fall of 1970 after the tragedy of May 4th. He subsequently graduated in 1976 and received an advanced degree in English from City University of New York. Today, he is a poet and Interim Director of the Department of Africana Studies in the College of Arts and Sciences at Kent State University. Okantah lives in Akron with his wife and five children. He is author of eight books of poetry and has collaborated with the Cavani String Quartet, a Cleveland-based chamber music ensemble. As a Black student from New Jersey, he initially found Kent a “curious” place for himself and other Black students. He noted that, during the run-up to May 4th when the National Guard arrived on campus, members of Black United Students (BUS) were urged to leave campus because of the likelihood they could be shot. Not so for white students. He also noted that May 4th looms large in our memory, but not so the killing of Black students at historically black colleges South Carolina State in 1968 and Jackson State later in May of 1970. Noting that “Diversity only works if we are willing to listen to each other’s stories,” and “Poetry is how I see,” Mr. Okantah interspersed his talk with readings of three of his poems. Each contains a powerful story from his experience. The first honors a high school friend, a promising jazz musician, who became addicted to heroin during the time he served in the military in Vietnam. homeboy i remember we called him, “Big Daddy Elmer Cook”— Ma Beulah’s boy. we were in junior high school. he was into A Love Supreme in 1966. he was into wing’d tipped shoes, but he never conk’d his head. Elmer was into John Coltrane, into Thelonius Monk. he was into the “new music” years before I would learn it was new. i had been summer camp’d into Top 40 radio “Cousin Brucie,” integrated into stale “rock and roll.” i remember Big Daddy’s box front room on Oregon Street. he didn’t read comic books. Trane music blasted myopic Marvel Superheroes— like Miles Davis, he knew the real thing. even then, he refused to allow the other stuff entry into his world. he slept in Blues Minor. the sounds in Elmer’s room saved my memory: at Kent State i remembered Coltrane. white blood ran in the streets there one 70s May. it left white folks with a nagging after- Nixon need for the Average White Band— white boys turned to black blues in search of the soul their own history stole from them. i had gone off to college. Big Daddy went off to Viet Nam— neither of us came home the same. war, and whitefolks seared scars across the bare flesh of our souls. we heard it in Eric Dolphy’s Far Cry, saw it in Monk’s Ugly Beauty ; felt it in Bud Powell ’s frantic piano sadness; horn solos gave voice to feelings found in places words dare not tread. i remember, we called him, “Big Daddy.” the last time i saw him he was standing on the corner, he had that far away look. his eyes set deep in his head. Vaux Hall from Reconnecting Memories: Dreams No Longer Deferred ©2004 mwatabu s. okantah The second poem, “see him,” describes a frequent encounter he had with a neighbor after moving to Kent as a student. see him i see him, almost daily. he waves, a desperate kind of wave, like, “hello—I’ll wave, too … i no longer see color. in my years it seems I have been forgotten. i just don’t want to be forgotten.” i see him. know his emptiness. feel it. he sits, bringing to mind Anderson grotesques. Winesburg was a town name Clyde— in Ohio. Clyde is real. so is this man. real. Old. white. he sits …the sun blazes black shadows. he sleeps, actually. his long-years resting heavily upon wrinkled eyelids. he sits. i wave life back … Tree City (Kent, Ohio) From Muntu Kuntu Energy: New and Selected Poetry ©2013 Mwatabu S. Okantah In 1988, Okantah was part of a trip to Nigeria sponsored by the Rotary Club of Akron. While there, he visited a cave where Africans hid from slavers looking to kidnap them and take them to the new world. He wrote “African tree” after his time spent in this sacred place. African tree giant silk cottonwood, massive, mystifying, majestic, standing as the tallest tree in the forest. mighty tree, how many rains, how many dry seasons have you wind-song weathered? how many times have your leaves whispered stories of black ages? talk to me old African tree, tell me our story from unknown pages. talk to me, master of the forest tree, pointed skyward, grayish green white against the horizon. teach me to stand Afreekan tree. your kidnapped now lost children in need of tall trees to grow masters in a still hostile forest. i stand in your shade charmer tree, rid me of this bitterness, bind these wounds, heal these scars lashed across the bare flesh of my imagination. restore me magical tree, resurrect Africa’s dispersed children once more upon that stage of history only you in your tree-wisdom can know. grant me harmony old African tree, protect me inside the Ogbunike Cave* black warmth of your long shadows. i stand before you ancestral tree, envelop me in the darkness of your Niger area love … Nigeria *Ogbunike Cave is near Onitsha and the Niger River in the Midwestern region of Nigeria. It is a location where Africans hid from slave raiding parties during the Maafa. From Guerrilla Dread: Poetry for the Heart and Minds ©2019 Mwatabu S. Okantah In closing, Okantah reminded his audience that the goals of diversity, equity, and inclusion will only be achieved if groups like Rotary and white people in particular are willing to discuss the issues among themselves and also listen to the stories and perspectives of others. He left us with the thought that the story of how America became great is not always a good story. Young people need an education that will enable them to become citizens of the world You can find out more about Okuntah and his poetry here: www.mkepoet1.com Today’s Response: Doug Fuller thanked Okantah for his talk and noted that it was one of the most impactful presentations he’s heard at a Rotary meeting. Respectfully submitted Thomas Hatch
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