Tag Archives: hambone

We gonna get our ham…

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Hambone (see an earlier post) has been on my mind lately.  Recent events, a Roots marathon…a lot of things bring it up those ideas.  Hey Hambone – we got some ham!

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I’ve been a bit busy lately.  My grandfather passed away a week ago last Sunday.  Although it was expected (he’d been sick for awhile) and he had lived a long life (he was nearly 90), it’s still…a thing. 

So while getting back to work on this blog, I thought I’d share a story from him.  He wrote this a few years ago, I’ve just transcribed it.  As you can see, stubbornness runs deep in my family. 

In 1943 I bought a 1939 Chevy car on a Friday.  Paid cash.

That Saturday night it was two carloads of white men came to my mother’s house.  Told her to tell me to have the car back to them Sunday morning.

I did.

I asked them to return my money.  They wanted to charge me $8500 for keeping the car two days.

Remember I paid cash for the car, therefore I did not owe them anything.  When I finished talking with them, they were more than glad to return all my money.

One Saturday evening my brother Bennie and I was up town (that’s what we call it – up town).  Three white men push my brother into the street.  He came and told me.  I went with him.  He pointed them out.  I waited in a ally for them. I had piled some bricks and watch for them to come pass.  They did in about 45 minutes.  The rest [is] history.

Not long after that I came to Trenton.  My mother had just about had enough of me.  I think she thought the same thing would happen to me that happened to my Grandfather.

3 Feb 1921: Grandfather Jim was lynched because he would not dance.

The white man pulled out a gun and ordered my Grandfather to dance.

My Grandfather took the gun and shot him.

This happened three years before I was born.

 

I Want My Ham! A Meditation On Hambone

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I’m assisting on Two Trains Running and have the privilege of
listening to the play every day. One of the characters in the play,
Hambone, has essentially two lines. “I want my ham.” “He gonna give
me my ham.” After listening to those lines for several days, one day
I suddenly heard them. Although he seems simple, Hambone’s story is
one of profound persistence in the face of injustice.

For nearly a decade, this man has tried to claim what he believes is
rightfully his – just payment for his services. Although he is
offered a lower fee (a chicken), he refuses. He will take nothing
less than a ham, no matter how many times he must ask for it. His
request is simple, but his stubborn determination is profound.

Monday, January 21st, is the day set aside to remember the Rev. Dr.
Martin Luther King, Jr. During his final trip in Memphis, Dr King
(along with many others) worked with the Sanitation Workers to help
bring their strike to a successful conclusion. They are the ones you
see in photos from the period holding signs that say “I AM a man.”
This was not the first (nor would it be the last) time they had struck
to fight for a living wage. Those men, like Hambone were fighting for
their right to be heard, or as Dr King said the night before he died
“We are saying that we are determined to be men. We are determined to
be people.” It seems such a simple thing, and something that today
most of us are lucky enough to take for granted. But those simple
things are often the most difficult to attain.

At a production meeting last week someone, in reference to using food
on stage, said “We can’t do leftovers.” The phrase stuck with me. It
seemed more profound than the intended meaning of the moment. Hambone
wasn’t settling for leftovers. The strikers in Memphis weren’t
settling for leftovers. And Dr. King certainly wasn’t settling for
leftovers.

What does this mean for me? I’m an artist. I’m black. I’m a woman.
Many people fought and died for my right to ride on a bus and sit
anywhere I please; many people fought and died for my right to so
freely declare myself an artist – without my ancestors struggle for
self-determination (their “ham”), I would not have been free to follow
my heart into theatre. To honor their fight, I believe it’s my duty
to give my all to my craft, to learn as much as I can and to speak
with integrity through my work. I need to fight for my own ham.

We as a people should not settle for leftovers. It may take the
stubborn determination of Hambone, but to get to the Promised Land we
can’t settle for leftovers. I want my ham. He gonna give me my ham.