Essential The Official ADOS Discussion Thread

[Secure Da Bag]

I was just looking at these numbers (I'm assuming Yvette and Tone have posted this at some point). To further my point from yesterday.

1960 immigration numbers:

• Black: 18,871,831
  
• Native American: 551,669
• Asian: 980,337
• Hispanic: 5,814,784
• Other: 87,606
  
• Non-black total: 7,434,396

1970 immigration numbers:

• Black: 22,539,362
• Native American: 795,110
• Asian: 1,526,401
• Hispanic: 8,920,940
• Other: 230,064
  
• Non-black total: 11,472,515

When people talk about the coalition, the data shows the world was a very different place for Aframs back then. The strategy can't be exactly the same.

 

[saturn7]

So yesterday, though I disagreed with method-x, I did agree with him on one thing. Coalition of the people. Now during the CRM, minorities came together, not all but many, and fought for equal rights and equal access. But now the fight is not only that, but also of redress and restitution, ie. reparations. We know that not only Aframs are fighting for reparations. But also Caribbeans, some Africans, and some CA/SA countries. But they are all doing it separately. (WARNING: very optimistic) There has to be a way for all of us to support each other reparations while getting our individual bags.

So basically, black immigrants actively support Aframs' push for reparations. And at the same time, Aframs actively support (1 example) Jamaica's push for reparations.

You get what I'm saying?

My mom is actually going to Cartagena, Colombia with some lawyer friends next year. She said they are meeting with Colombian DOS who are actually working on getting Reparations there. She's supposed to be putting me in contact with one of the lawyers who is the contact with the Colombians. Hopefully we get a chance to compare notes and I can put him up on #ADOS.

 

[Secure Da Bag]

My mom is actually going to Cartagena, Colombia with some lawyer friends next year. She said they are meeting with Colombian DOS who are actually working on getting Reparations there. She's supposed to be putting me in contact with one of the lawyers who is the contact with the Colombians. Hopefully we get a chance to compare notes and I can put him up on #ADOS.

I have no idea if Dr. Carr is aligned with #ADOS but he talked about something similar on Karen Hunter's show.

(timestamped)

 

[xoxodede]

I have no idea if Dr. Carr is aligned with #ADOS but he talked about something on Karen Hunter's show.

(timestamped)

He's against it. He is one of the loudest haters -- and only comes after ADOS.

 

[saturn7]

He's against it. He is one of the loudest haters -- and only comes after ADOS.

Damn. I always see him on Rolands Martin's show. He seems to be more on the Pan African side of the game.

 

[saturn7]

I have no idea if Dr. Carr is aligned with #ADOS but he talked about something similar on Karen Hunter's show.

(timestamped)

I don't necessarily agree with him that we don't know much about the other DOS in places like Brazil. I hate reinforcing that we are ignorant about other cultures.

 

[Secure Da Bag]

I don't necessarily agree with him that we don't know much about the other DOS in places like Brazil. I hate reinforcing that we are ignorant about other cultures.

I wouldn't take that to heart, honestly. That's far more of an American thing than it ever will be a black thing.

 

[saturn7]

 

[saturn7]

No mailing it in: All-black female battalion to be remembered as heroes for unique World War II task
Group helped sort 65,000 pieces of mail a day for U.S. military members

No mailing it in: All-black female battalion to be remembered as heroes for unique World War II task

Image courtesy National Archives. (Photo by Smith Collection/Gado/Getty Images). (Getty)

In 2020, there will be several 75-year anniversaries associated with World War II, including one for a brave, selfless and hardworking group of black women.

Back in 1945, Red Cross workers and warehouses in England became overloaded with mail and packages addressed to U.S. military members.

Knowing the morale boost that mail gave soldiers and also loved ones back home, Army officials needed help with the post, and a group of 855 women came to the rescue.

The 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion, often referred to as the “Six-Triple-Eight,” was the only all-black, all-female battalion stationed overseas in World War II, and the women were tasked with sorting the mail.

The group left the United States on Feb. 3, 1945, for a nearly two-week journey to the United Kingdom, arriving in Glasgow, Scotland on Feb. 14.

From there, the group took a train to Birmingham, England, and began the priceless and historic work.

Led by Lt. Col Charity Edna Adams and operating under the motto, “No mail, no morale,” the group split up into three shifts that worked seven days a week to whittle down a pile of mail that was stacked up to the ceiling of a temporary post office.

Handling an estimated 65,000 pieces of mail a day, the group finished a six-month task to get rid of the backlog in about three months.

Conditions weren’t easy, given the group had to wear coats and long underwear in unheated, dimly lit buildings.

But it was a sacrifice that couldn’t have meant more to soldiers in need of a boost from letters back home, and the efforts of the group haven’t gone unnoticed.

In 2009, the battalion was honored at Arlington National Cemetery at the Women in Military Service for America Memorial.

In 2018, a monument in Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, was erected in honor of the battalion.

Five members were present at the ceremony, which dedicated a monument that features names of those in the battalion and the work the women did

 

[96Blue]

African Americans Are The Base Of The Democrat Party. But They're No Monolith | All In | MSNBC

 

[saturn7]

 

[Captain Crunch]

@HarlemHottie @Nicole0416 @K.O.N.Y
Guys, I think we now have an idea on how many ADOS are in NYC.

https://statisticalatlas.com/place/New-York/New-York/Ancestry

Go to this link, add West Indian; Sub-Saharan African, Jamaican, Haitian, Guyanese, African, Trindidad and Tobagan. This will leave you with 1,563,900.

U.S. Census Bureau QuickFacts: New York city, New York

Using this link above, we can see that NYC has 8.3 million people, the Black population is 24%, so the total Black pop is 2,015,699.

If we subtract all the non-ADOS(1.563 mil) from the total Black pop, that leaves us w/ 451,811 ADOS or 5% of the NYC pop

 

[saturn7]

The Great Escape From Slavery of Ellen and William Craft
Passing as a white man traveling with his servant, two slaves fled their masters in a thrilling tale of deception and intrigue

By Marian Smith Holmes
SMITHSONIANMAG.COM
JUNE 16, 2010

The Great Escape From Slavery of Ellen and William Craft | History | Smithsonian Magazine


Most runaway slaves fled to freedom in the dead of night, often pursued by barking bloodhounds. A few fugitives, such as Henry “Box” Brown who mailed himself north in a wooden crate, devised clever ruses or stowed away on ships and wagons. One of the most ingenious escapes was that of a married couple from Georgia, Ellen and William Craft, who traveled in first-class trains, dined with a steamboat captain and stayed in the best hotels during their escape to Philadelphia and freedom in 1848. Ellen, a quadroon with very fair skin, disguised herself as a young white cotton planter traveling with his slave (William). It was William who came up with the scheme to hide in plain sight, but ultimately it was Ellen who convincingly masked her race, her gender and her social status during their four-day trip. Despite the luxury accommodations, the journey was fraught with narrow escapes and heart-in-the-mouth moments that could have led to their discovery and capture. Courage, quick thinking, luck and “our Heavenly Father,” sustained them, the Crafts said in Running a Thousand Miles for Freedom, the book they wrote in 1860 chronicling the escape.


Ellen and William lived in Macon, Georgia, and were owned by different masters. Put up for auction at age 16 to help settle his master’s debts, William had become the property of a local bank cashier. A skilled cabinetmaker, William, continued to work at the shop where he had apprenticed, and his new owner collected most of his wages. Minutes before being sold, William had witnessed the sale of his frightened, tearful 14-year-old sister. His parents and brother had met the same fate and were scattered throughout the South.

As a child, Ellen, the offspring of her first master and one of his biracial slaves, had frequently been mistaken for a member of his white family. Much annoyed by the situation, the plantation mistress sent 11-year-old Ellen to Macon to her daughter as a wedding present in 1837, where she served as a ladies maid. Ellen and William married, but having experienced such brutal family separations despaired over having children, fearing they would be torn away from them. “The mere thought,” William later wrote of his wife’s distress, “filled her soul with horror.”

Pondering various escape plans, William, knowing that slaveholders could take their slaves to any state, slave or free, hit upon the idea of fair-complexioned Ellen passing herself off as his master—a wealthy young white man because it was not customary for women to travel with male servants. Initially Ellen panicked at the idea but was gradually won over. Because they were “favourite slaves,” the couple had little trouble obtaining passes from their masters for a few days leave at Christmastime, giving them some days to be missing without raising the alarm. Additionally, as a carpenter, William probably would have kept some of his earnings – or perhaps did odd jobs for others – and was allowed to keep some of the money.

Before setting out on December 21, 1848, William cut Ellen’s hair to neck length. She improved on the deception by putting her right arm in a sling, which would prevent hotel clerks and others from expecting “him” to sign a registry or other papers. Georgia law prohibited teaching slaves to read or write, so neither Ellen nor William could do either. Refining the invalid disguise, Ellen asked William to wrap bandages around much of her face, hiding her smooth skin and giving her a reason to limit conversation with strangers. She wore a pair of men’s trousers that she herself had sewed. She then donned a pair of green spectacles and a top hat. They knelt and prayed and took “a desperate leap for liberty.”

At the Macon train station, Ellen purchased tickets to Savannah, 200 miles away. As William took a place in the “negro car,” he spotted the owner of the cabinetmaking shop on the platform. After questioning the ticket seller, the man began peering through the windows of the cars. William turned his face from the window and shrank in his seat, expecting the worst. The man searched the car Ellen was in but never gave the bandaged invalid a second glance. Just as he approached William’s car, the bell clanged and the train lurched off.

Ellen, who had been staring out the window, then turned away and discovered that her seat mate was a dear friend of her master, a recent dinner guest who had known Ellen for years. Her first thought was that he had been sent to retrieve her, but the wave of fear soon passed when he greeted her with “It is a very fine morning, sir.”

To avoid talking to him, Ellen feigned deafness for the next several hours.

In Savannah, the fugitives boarded a steamer for Charleston, South Carolina. Over breakfast the next morning, the friendly captain marveled at the young master’s “very attentive boy” and warned him to beware “cut-throat abolitionists” in the North who would encourage William to run away. A slave trader on board offered to buy William and take him to the Deep South, and a military officer scolded the invalid for saying “thank you” to his slave. In an overnight stay at the best hotel in Charleston, the solicitous staff treated the ailing traveler with upmost care, giving him a fine room and a good table in the dining room.

Trying to buy steamer tickets from South Carolina to Philadelphia, Ellen and William hit a snag when the ticket seller objected to signing the names of the young gentleman and his slave even after seeing the injured arm. In an effort to prevent white abolitionists from taking slaves out of the South, slaveholders had to prove that the slaves traveling with them were indeed their property. Sometimes travelers were detained for days trying to prove ownership. As the surly ticket seller reiterated his refusal to sign by jamming his hands in his pockets, providence prevailed: The genial captain happened by, vouched for the planter and his slave and signed their names.

Baltimore, the last major stop before Pennsylvania, a free state, had a particularly vigilant border patrol. Ellen and William were again detained, asked to leave the train and report to the authorities for verification of ownership. “We shan’t let you go,” an officer said with finality. “We felt as though we had come into deep waters and were about being overwhelmed,” William recounted in the book, and returned “to the dark and horrible pit of misery.” Ellen and William silently prayed as the officer stood his ground. Suddenly the jangling of the departure bell shattered the quiet. The officer, clearly agitated, scratched his head. Surveying the sick traveler’s bandages, he said to a clerk, “he is not well, it is a pity to stop him.” Tell the conductor to “let this gentleman and slave pass.”

The Crafts arrived in Philadelphia the next morning—Christmas Day. As they left the station, Ellen burst into tears, crying out, “Thank God, William, we’re safe!”

The comfortable coaches and cabins notwithstanding, it had been an emotionally harrowing journey, especially for Ellen as she kept up the multilayered deception. From making excuses for not partaking of brandy and cigars with the other gentleman to worrying that slavers had kidnapped William, her nerves were frayed to the point of exhaustion. At a Virginia railway station, a woman had even mistaken William for her runaway slave and demanded that he come with her. As predicted, abolitionists approached William. One advised him to “leave that cripple and have your liberty,” and a free black man on the train to Philadelphia urged him to take refuge in a boarding house run by abolitionists. Through it all Ellen and William maintained their roles, never revealing anything of themselves to the strangers except a loyal slave and kind master.

Upon their arrival in Philadelphia, Ellen and William were quickly given assistance and lodging by the underground abolitionist network. They received a reading lesson their very first day in the city. Three weeks later, they moved to Boston where William resumed work as a cabinetmaker and Ellen became a seamstress. After two years, in 1850, slave hunters arrived in Boston intent on returning them to Georgia. The Crafts fled again, this time to England, where they eventually had five children. After 20 years they returned to the States and in the 1870s established a school in Georgia for newly freed blacks.

 

[xoxodede]

The Great Escape From Slavery of Ellen and William Craft
Passing as a white man traveling with his servant, two slaves fled their masters in a thrilling tale of deception and intrigue

By Marian Smith Holmes
SMITHSONIANMAG.COM
JUNE 16, 2010

The Great Escape From Slavery of Ellen and William Craft | History | Smithsonian Magazine


Most runaway slaves fled to freedom in the dead of night, often pursued by barking bloodhounds. A few fugitives, such as Henry “Box” Brown who mailed himself north in a wooden crate, devised clever ruses or stowed away on ships and wagons. One of the most ingenious escapes was that of a married couple from Georgia, Ellen and William Craft, who traveled in first-class trains, dined with a steamboat captain and stayed in the best hotels during their escape to Philadelphia and freedom in 1848. Ellen, a quadroon with very fair skin, disguised herself as a young white cotton planter traveling with his slave (William). It was William who came up with the scheme to hide in plain sight, but ultimately it was Ellen who convincingly masked her race, her gender and her social status during their four-day trip. Despite the luxury accommodations, the journey was fraught with narrow escapes and heart-in-the-mouth moments that could have led to their discovery and capture. Courage, quick thinking, luck and “our Heavenly Father,” sustained them, the Crafts said in Running a Thousand Miles for Freedom, the book they wrote in 1860 chronicling the escape.


Ellen and William lived in Macon, Georgia, and were owned by different masters. Put up for auction at age 16 to help settle his master’s debts, William had become the property of a local bank cashier. A skilled cabinetmaker, William, continued to work at the shop where he had apprenticed, and his new owner collected most of his wages. Minutes before being sold, William had witnessed the sale of his frightened, tearful 14-year-old sister. His parents and brother had met the same fate and were scattered throughout the South.

As a child, Ellen, the offspring of her first master and one of his biracial slaves, had frequently been mistaken for a member of his white family. Much annoyed by the situation, the plantation mistress sent 11-year-old Ellen to Macon to her daughter as a wedding present in 1837, where she served as a ladies maid. Ellen and William married, but having experienced such brutal family separations despaired over having children, fearing they would be torn away from them. “The mere thought,” William later wrote of his wife’s distress, “filled her soul with horror.”

Pondering various escape plans, William, knowing that slaveholders could take their slaves to any state, slave or free, hit upon the idea of fair-complexioned Ellen passing herself off as his master—a wealthy young white man because it was not customary for women to travel with male servants. Initially Ellen panicked at the idea but was gradually won over. Because they were “favourite slaves,” the couple had little trouble obtaining passes from their masters for a few days leave at Christmastime, giving them some days to be missing without raising the alarm. Additionally, as a carpenter, William probably would have kept some of his earnings – or perhaps did odd jobs for others – and was allowed to keep some of the money.

Before setting out on December 21, 1848, William cut Ellen’s hair to neck length. She improved on the deception by putting her right arm in a sling, which would prevent hotel clerks and others from expecting “him” to sign a registry or other papers. Georgia law prohibited teaching slaves to read or write, so neither Ellen nor William could do either. Refining the invalid disguise, Ellen asked William to wrap bandages around much of her face, hiding her smooth skin and giving her a reason to limit conversation with strangers. She wore a pair of men’s trousers that she herself had sewed. She then donned a pair of green spectacles and a top hat. They knelt and prayed and took “a desperate leap for liberty.”

At the Macon train station, Ellen purchased tickets to Savannah, 200 miles away. As William took a place in the “negro car,” he spotted the owner of the cabinetmaking shop on the platform. After questioning the ticket seller, the man began peering through the windows of the cars. William turned his face from the window and shrank in his seat, expecting the worst. The man searched the car Ellen was in but never gave the bandaged invalid a second glance. Just as he approached William’s car, the bell clanged and the train lurched off.

Ellen, who had been staring out the window, then turned away and discovered that her seat mate was a dear friend of her master, a recent dinner guest who had known Ellen for years. Her first thought was that he had been sent to retrieve her, but the wave of fear soon passed when he greeted her with “It is a very fine morning, sir.”

To avoid talking to him, Ellen feigned deafness for the next several hours.

In Savannah, the fugitives boarded a steamer for Charleston, South Carolina. Over breakfast the next morning, the friendly captain marveled at the young master’s “very attentive boy” and warned him to beware “cut-throat abolitionists” in the North who would encourage William to run away. A slave trader on board offered to buy William and take him to the Deep South, and a military officer scolded the invalid for saying “thank you” to his slave. In an overnight stay at the best hotel in Charleston, the solicitous staff treated the ailing traveler with upmost care, giving him a fine room and a good table in the dining room.

Trying to buy steamer tickets from South Carolina to Philadelphia, Ellen and William hit a snag when the ticket seller objected to signing the names of the young gentleman and his slave even after seeing the injured arm. In an effort to prevent white abolitionists from taking slaves out of the South, slaveholders had to prove that the slaves traveling with them were indeed their property. Sometimes travelers were detained for days trying to prove ownership. As the surly ticket seller reiterated his refusal to sign by jamming his hands in his pockets, providence prevailed: The genial captain happened by, vouched for the planter and his slave and signed their names.

Baltimore, the last major stop before Pennsylvania, a free state, had a particularly vigilant border patrol. Ellen and William were again detained, asked to leave the train and report to the authorities for verification of ownership. “We shan’t let you go,” an officer said with finality. “We felt as though we had come into deep waters and were about being overwhelmed,” William recounted in the book, and returned “to the dark and horrible pit of misery.” Ellen and William silently prayed as the officer stood his ground. Suddenly the jangling of the departure bell shattered the quiet. The officer, clearly agitated, scratched his head. Surveying the sick traveler’s bandages, he said to a clerk, “he is not well, it is a pity to stop him.” Tell the conductor to “let this gentleman and slave pass.”

The Crafts arrived in Philadelphia the next morning—Christmas Day. As they left the station, Ellen burst into tears, crying out, “Thank God, William, we’re safe!”

The comfortable coaches and cabins notwithstanding, it had been an emotionally harrowing journey, especially for Ellen as she kept up the multilayered deception. From making excuses for not partaking of brandy and cigars with the other gentleman to worrying that slavers had kidnapped William, her nerves were frayed to the point of exhaustion. At a Virginia railway station, a woman had even mistaken William for her runaway slave and demanded that he come with her. As predicted, abolitionists approached William. One advised him to “leave that cripple and have your liberty,” and a free black man on the train to Philadelphia urged him to take refuge in a boarding house run by abolitionists. Through it all Ellen and William maintained their roles, never revealing anything of themselves to the strangers except a loyal slave and kind master.

Upon their arrival in Philadelphia, Ellen and William were quickly given assistance and lodging by the underground abolitionist network. They received a reading lesson their very first day in the city. Three weeks later, they moved to Boston where William resumed work as a cabinetmaker and Ellen became a seamstress. After two years, in 1850, slave hunters arrived in Boston intent on returning them to Georgia. The Crafts fled again, this time to England, where they eventually had five children. After 20 years they returned to the States and in the 1870s established a school in Georgia for newly freed blacks.

If you are interested in narratives -- you can find this one and MANY more here: https://docsouth.unc.edu/neh/

https://docsouth.unc.edu/neh/craft/menu.html

 

[saturn7]

If you are interested in narratives -- you can find this one and MANY more here: https://docsouth.unc.edu/neh/

https://docsouth.unc.edu/neh/craft/menu.html

Wow.