Who am I at the End of 2023?

(Article Updated from 7/4/04)

How often do we reach a point where we talk to someone daily or ask ourselves, who am I? The question usually is asked when we are going through some things. Something is out of balance in our lives, so we turn inward to ask questions to which we already know the answer. Why am I here, in this place, currently, a member of this family?

We must only look at our roots to find our souls’ origin. Most originated in Arkansas. The surnames are Belin ~ Childs ~ Green ~ Hall ~ Hampton ~Momon ~ Johnson ~ Phifer ~ Tatum ~ Trotter ~Wheller ~ Webb ~ Wright ~ Woods ~ Harmon ~ Falls ~ Hayes ~ Neal ~ Pickett ~ Purifoy ~ Strong ~ Griffin ~ Lovett ~ Gardner ~ Newton ~Wiley ~ Jones ~ Boswells ~ Wynter ~ White and Davis. One only needs to trace our ancestry to discover who we are and whence we originated.

Think of your great-grandmother great-grandfather. Mine are Sally (Davis) and David’ Sambo’ Hampton. My grandfather, John Hampton, was born in that union. He married my grandmother, Gracie Hall. My father, Codis Sr, was their firstborn. They were married, raising their own family in the heart of Arkansas Jim Crow’s South. They survived, even prospered, to provide our mothers and fathers a place on this earth. My parents were part of the black folk migration out of the South, headed east, west, or north, looking for a better way of life. Thus, my parents, aunts, uncles, and assorted cousins ended up in Milwaukee.

Big Mama, Big Papa, or old dude included when we look at our fathers and their family values. These are our people, our kinfolk whom we examined closely to find the depths of our character. At this stage in my life, I am the age my Grandparents, Uncles, and Cousins were toward the end of their existence on earth. I’ve laughed with my sister and cousins about that fact.

Don’t forget our sisters and brothers. Check out their mannerisms, how they talk, move, walk, fidget, twitch, or even when relaxing in a reflective mood. Look closely and ask questions about your heritage from those individuals. They will tell you who you are.

They may not explain it in words or actions you can readily see—answers entwined in stories about other relatives. You may pick up specific nuances in their southern or black person dialect. Some may call it Ebonics’…we call it family speaks. We can look at family members to see our characteristics. Or we can look in the mirror to see the product of our roots. The face staring back at you is who you are at any given time.

It’s funny, sometimes sad, that most knowledgeable relatives, familiar with our history because they lived it, have passed on to be with their maker, lord, and Savior. They didn’t have to be reminded by a political ad of the meaning of family. They remember what their parents and grandparents told them about being part of a family. They said family members with the same blood that runs through your veins are people you can count on when times are hard or when you need a helping hand. You can trust them. It would help if you did not misuse that trust.

For those who think we are dissing your homies. We know how you feel about your dog, your shorty, your squeeze, and the many other words of affection you may voice when speaking of someone close to you, someone you feel has your back. There is room for both family members and homies in your life. Facebook or other social media friends are not blood relatives. However, some may be better than a few blood relatives. We find no argument against a good social media friend. Yet, as noted, when it comes down to it, you are here because of the people who came before you. That happens to be factual and not up for debate.

We always like to emphasize that family comes first. Yet relationships, no matter the connection, are two ways, not one way. Unlike some who think they’re entitled to certain privileges because of their last name. You’re expected to contribute to the family’s reputation as a member in good standing. I often wonder how we, as baby boomers or graybeards, pass birthright to our offspring. How do we show you that blood is thicker than water? What do we need to do to make an impression on you? Even though television or movies stress individuality, including portraying what have you done for me lately attitudes. We must look to family for grounding.

We may hold monthly family get-togethers or dinners. We attend family reunions. Cousins who may not have known they were related meet and greet each other. The little kids can see they belong to more than just their immediate family. In other words, we can be who we want to be professionally. We can strive to reach the peak of our class. Some may soar above the clouds on the wings or a mentor. Others may achieve the ultimate personal satisfaction in any endeavor. Yet without someone to share it with, the accolades ring hollow after the initial celebration unless you have a family with whom to share a personal triumph.

Cliches like,” I knew you could do it, baby… that’s my son, my daughter”. A father said,” Son, I’m so proud of you today.” Or “Remember, sweetheart…wherever you go, you will still be daddy’s little girl.” You may have a crazy, lovable uncle to say, “That boy got all that stuff from me.” Or “that girl is the spitting image of her mother, my sister, and my dearly departed mother.” 

A wise man once said, “How can you get where you are going if you don’t know where you came from?” It doesn’t matter who someone else thinks we are. It does matter who we eventually become. We must ask ourselves if our ancestors would be proud of our accomplishments.

In this date and time, we are inundated with various crimes, daily shootings, a growing homeless population, family misunderstandings, unlawful and even prescribed drugs, along with an ever-growing impatient citizen who legally may be able to carry unconcealed weapons. Folks are getting fed up with the criminal element of our society, snatching and grabbing, among other things.

Our political process seems to be broken, drifting away from Democracy. A national election in 2024 with Trump heading for the Republican nomination? We remember the authoritative posture he represents. Are we headed for a dictator in the White House? All while the Democrat, current President Biden looks like his capability is in question. Why? Because of his age.  

Can you imagine all those folks at our borders clamoring to get into this country, adding to our problems? If they only knew. Our country seems to have less common sense, primarily in how we act toward others. Racism, homophobia, conservatism against liberals, some whites against anybody who isn’t, poor against the wealthy, you name it. The only people living prominent are the very rich in this country. The only way to change that situation is to vote people into office who are Americans without a destructive agenda. Slogans like “Make America Great Again” are a dog whistle to many anxious folks. For whatever reasons, they feel left out of the political process. They also want to be the ruling class. The question is, at what cost? My request of you is to be on guard. This is our country, too.   

Meanwhile, most of us live our daily lives dealing with the joys and sorrows contributing to our life experiences. Remember, we know who we are and what we stand for. That knowledge alone will help us get to where we are going.

Dedicated to my father, mother, stepmother…RIP Codis Sr, DoReatha Cole, and Rosalie Miller. To my uncles, aunts, cousins, Grand and Great Grandparents, thanks for the love and protection, along with providing an example for me to follow. It’s been a hell of a ride. A great life that I can genuinely say you ‘all laid the groundwork.

Happy Holidays, and may the new year of 2024 be as healthy and prosperous as you make it, from Sandra and Codis.

Peace, blessings, stay healthy and be vigilant for our American rights. Make it a day in which Jesus Christ would be proud of you,

Codis Hampton II                                                                                                   Author & Commentator

“The Episodic Thoughts of Hamp, Vol II” has been published. Check out my author webpage URL  https://outskirtspress.com/HampsEpisodicThoughtsVol2                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

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Copyright 2011 Codis Hampton II, all rights reserved. A bi-weekly blog for your enjoyment

2017 Update of Gracie Hall-Hampton, the Book.

      Gracie Hall-Hampton, the Arkansas Years, 1917-1953. Over the last several Arkansas , Gracie Hall-Hampton had become somewhat callous in her mannerisms. Friends, family, as well as a foe, say dealing with her could be a difficult task. Some say she’d gone from a sweet innocent young girl to a mean quick-tempered old woman. She always had her shotgun near, with a four- inch all-purpose pocket knife in the lone pocket of her trademark full-bodied specialty made homemakers apron. I guess over the years; she felt the need to defend her family, property, or self could come at any moment. She just wanted to be ready.
One can understand how a single mother must be the rock in the family, especially in the rural areas of a segregated South. Given where she and her family lived, one can also why she had to be tough to fend for herself and those she loved. In some ways, she took on the personality of a frontier woman blazing a trail for others to follow.
Raising five children, after her husband died was a tough assignment. She had to be a teacher after school was out, a mother when one of own was physically or emotionally hurt, a strong, kind, or stern disciplinarian whenever a situation calls for it. She had to provide the voice of wisdom and experience to young folks who thought they had the answers to all problems. But most of all, she had to be the protector of her family when it came to dealing with people, especially the local white folk of Banks, Arkansas.
She, maybe a little grudgingly, took on all those and other roles. As time went on, she realized that she could not be hesitant in making decisions. She had to convince some by proving that she was neither weak nor reluctant to do whatever was necessary for her and family to survive. Those who dared to challenge her authority found they’d better properly arm themselves. Whatever their choice of weapon, mental or otherwise, it would be a fight to the death.
To some, she was a sweet old lady who made the best tea cakes and other sweet treats. She was just as enjoyable as she had to be to get her way. A testament to her character all depended on who were providing the information. There was one common fact in all the conversations and inquiries. One did not cross this little five-foot mother of five, or there would be consequences.
For me, little Codis, a young, wide-eyed five-year-old kid, she was just Grandma. I was sent south because my father and mother, who were still living in Milwaukee, were going through a separation period which finally ended in divorce. I stayed with my grandma and her youngest daughter almost a couple of years.
She maintained her gruff personality even after moving to Milwaukee. She told me the story of a visit to the county hospital clinic. She was there for a physical checkup but quickly became annoyed while taking the exam. She told me, “I told that doctor to stop poking me all over and he would not, so I chased him out of the room with my pocket knife.” As I recall, there were no charges; they only told her she was in excellent health and could go back home now. I never did find out if she had the same doctor the following year.
Being brought up in the city, with all of its conveniences of indoor plumbing, electricity, modern medicine, yearly evolving personal and public transportation, along with open communication tools, i.e., Telegram and telephones, we took those things for granted.
Think about those who came before us in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s. Most were brought into this world by a midwife working under a kerosene lamp, using boiling well water and the determination of the expectant mother to deliver her baby as tools of the midwives trade.
I wrote this book so that my family and others could get to know Gracie Hall-Hampton, who was born in 1904 and died in 1985, eighty-one years later. I wanted my sons, daughter, and their sons or daughters to understand her. They should know how this five-foot woman survived in a segregated South. Limited to an eighth-grade education, living in the dark woods, nestled up to a tree line of timber. A tree line where black bears, wolves, coyotes, and an occasional mountain lion roamed, see how she rose above the circumstances and survived.
I wanted people to understand just who, and where this quiet little woman, until somebody got her stirred up, carved out her life. What motivated her to keep going? Readers get an understanding of what it was like to live in a place where a black person could disappear never to be found again in Jim Crow’s back yard.
After finishing the book, while lying in bed early one morning, I was thinking about what I tried to accomplish as a writer. I suddenly remembered how surreal I felt while proofing the section I wrote about the birth of my grandmother’s first child, who happened to be my future father. Thoughts of did I do it justice? Was I respectful enough to the moment? Was I detailed sufficiently for a reader to feel how it could have been? My answer to those questions and others were I wrote what I emotionally felt like as a member of the Hampton family. I carved out a storyline using a few fictitious characters and events to depict what it must have been like to live in those days. I wove stories told me by my uncles, aunts, cousins, father, and mother into each chapter. You and my family will judge my results as the book’s author.
I hope this book’s read by all people, especially black people and others of color. African-Americans can compare stories they’ve heard from their elders with those in this book. They will reach the same conclusion as did I. We come from a “family tree” of heroes who suffered in countless ways, survived and procreate, eventually paving the way for us to enjoy the freedom of being free from slavery in a country they helped to build. We should never forget that the struggle to remain free of racism is a never-ending job. No other race of people has been mentally or physically challenged throughout their entire world history up through today, for simply being on earth as have black people. The closest that come to this type of degradation and stereotyping is the Hitler Regime on the Jewish people during World War II. Keep in mind; I am not comparing slavery to the attempt at the extermination of the Jewish people by the Nazis.
As Americans, regardless of color, we have the chance and obligation to be the shining light that America is supposed to stand for these days. If we do that, this country will be truly recognized as the ideal society in which to make a life for you and our children.
Grandma Gracie had an abundance of common sense and loved her family. She always took the time to listen to me, as a kid and man, while offering advice where needed. I hope that she is standing at God’s side and are aware of this book’s publication dedicated to her memory. Love you, Grandma.

In a continuing effort to publicize Gracie Hall-Hampton, the Arkansas Years 1917-1953, I will join LitFires Publishing exhibit at this year’s ALA (American Library Association, June 22-27, 2017) Annual Conference & Exhibition in Chicago. Go to http://exhibitors.ala.org/ for the full details. It’s my effort to expose the book to libraries and librarian personnel throughout the world. Thanks and I will see you in Chicago.

You can order this 356 page through my publishers, Author House, Bookstore website at http://www.authorhouse.com , through online stores like Amazon.com or Barnes and Noble (bn.com). You can also call our Book Order Hotline, at 1-888-280-7715. You can order by title, ISBN number listed below or my name as the author.

Published by Author House 11/20/2013
ISBN: 978-1-4918-3113-7 (sc)= Soft Cover
ISBN: 978-1-4918-3112-0 (hc)= Hard Cover
ISBN: 978-1-4918-3111-3 (e) = E-Book Format
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013919268
Peace, Blessings, and Keep it real,
Codis Hampton II
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Meanwhile look for my fifth book, Misguided Intentions to be published this August. Thanks and see you in Chicago. Get any of my books by visiting my Amazon.com Authors page at http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B017TYFKBI?ref_=pe_1724030_132998070

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Copyright 2011 Codis Hampton II, all rights reserved. A bi-weekly blog for your enjoyment.