?PURGATORY~g(CAT!FISH)d~DIALOGUE? : Isabel Wilkerson - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Isabel Wilkerson - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia: Isabel Wilkerson is a Pulitzer Prize-winning American journalist, and the author of The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America's Great Migration.

Born in Washington D.C. in 1961, she studied journalism at Howard University, becoming editor-in-chief of the college newspaper The Hilltop. During college, Wilkerson interned at many publications, including the Los Angeles Times and the Washington Post.

In 1994, while Chicago bureau chief of The New York Times, she became the first African-American woman to win the Pulitzer Prize in journalism,^[2] winning the feature writing award for her coverage of the 1993 midwestern floods and her profile of a 10-year-old boy who was responsible for his four siblings.

She has also been the James M. Cox Professor of Journalism at Emory University, Ferris Professor of Journalism at Princeton University and the Kreeger-Wolf endowed lecturer at Northwestern University and Professor of Journalism and Director of Narrative Nonfiction in the College of Communication at Boston University. She also served as a board member of the National Arts in Journalism Program at Columbia University.

After fifteen years of research and writing, she published, The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America's Great Migration,^[8] which examines the three geographic routes that were commonly used by African Americans leaving the southern states between 1915 and the 1970s, illustrated through the personal stories of people who took those routes. During her research for the book, Wilkerson interviewed more than 1,000 people who made the migration from the South to Northern and Western cities.

The main title of the book is taken from a poem by author Richard Wright, who himself moved from the south to Chicago, in the 1920s.^[3] Parts of that poem are excerpted here:

. . .I was taking a part of the South

To transplant in alien soil...

Respond to the warmth of other suns

And, perhaps, to bloom.

—published in Black Boy, 1945

As of 2010, Wilkerson lived in the Virginia Highland neighborhood of Atlanta and, in a New York Times interview, remarked on being a part of a movement on the part of some African Americans to return to the South after generations in the North.

^***

I have a new neighbor now, a young woman having purchased the house adjacent to mine; this property having always been a rental property until now.

"To be honest with you,
we only view this property of ours next to yours as an investment that's helping pay for our children's education."

No more,
will I have to deal with a pernicious, prevaricating, cunt now known to me, and hopefully others, as ROBIN THE LANDLORD'S VAGINA MONOLOGUE; having had to listen, from the very start, to nothing but her spewing out one justification after another in her attempts trying to maximize their profits at my expense keeping the overheads down.

And it was always her, a little bitty woman; never her husband. I'm certain they did this to me on purpose.

Back in 1994 when I first showed interested in purchasing this house, my first and only home I've owned outright, I asked my realtor what kind of people made up this neighborhood.

"The only thing I can suggest, that you come back on my own and drive through the neighborhood...slowly... maybe stopping to chat with anyone you see working in the yard or taking a walk, things like that. That's about the only advice I'm able suggesting...legally."

It surprised me upon hearing that this was a question illegal for him to answer.

I can understand laws preventing discrimination against minorities trying to move into better neighborhoods as they move upwards in affordability; undeniably aware already, some of these new neighbors will probably be inhospitable to their presence as well.

In August 1948, Nat King Cole purchased a house from Col. Harry Gantz, the former husband of Lois Weber, in the all-white Hancock Park neighborhood of Los Angeles. The Ku Klux Klan, still active in Los Angeles well into the 1950s, responded by placing a burning cross on his front lawn. Members of the property-owners association told Cole they did not want any undesirables moving in. Cole retorted:

"Neither do I.
And if I see anybody undesirable coming in here, I'll be the first to complain."

But this sounded like a law with the possibility causing someone unknowingly becoming entrapped in a neighborhood more hostile to his/her presence than originally believing.

Having already lived in Atlanta three years, before becoming comfortable enough deciding purchasing my first home; already knew that Decatur, GA was jokingly referred to by the gay men of Midtown Atlanta
as
"DICK-HATER, GA."

Although personally knew of none, and those laying topless beside a deck pool one summer afternoon while partying in Key West do not count however gross and unforgettable that image has been since; thought surely my realtor, a gay man extremely familiar as to who I was because of our frequent encounters the bar scenes here in Atlanta those first three years...
wouldn't put my dick at risk showing me this house.

Was I wrong in assuming,
because I never saw him show any interest whatsoever in women either, even as a friend:
"leave them alone in their space; they left us alone in our space."

Surely he wouldn't...would he?

Well, because of signs in my yard, signs designed purposely knowing they will be seen as inflammatory to some I'm now determined keeping in my yard at all time; this new neighbor of mine has no excuse purchasing this home next to mine without having been a bit more determined, first, finding out what kind of people made up this neighborhood than I did when purchasing this home of mine...back in 1994.

How interesting this new owner the first one of us two quick introducing herself to me, a pediatrician named Maria, fellowship at Emory, catholic who's agnostic, and a lesbian having a partner I didn't know about until after I walked over a little something thinking would make a nice housewarming gift for someone starting off in her new home same as I started off in mine...
alone.

I was wrong.

After introducing myself to Maria's partner and handing her a NIGHT BLOOMING CEREUS that I had just started for them using cuttings from mine; couldn't help but notice as I walked back to my property, the fence between our two properties just recently put up by Robin The Landlord's Vagina Monologue (an attempt(?)maybe making that property more(?) saleable, has now been stained.

Maria... apparently... has changed her mind about having the fence taken down in addition to the many other projects/changes already observed so far.

And...
wanting to know who that fence belonged to...WAS...the start of our official introduction as neighbors so quickly.

Well...
one of her dogs having escaped over onto my property the day before actually.

How bizarre...

another beagle.

A FLASH BACK!

After having some pictures taken of myself posing with a St. Andrew's Cross in my front yard, a sex toy normally kept hidden out of site in the basement, I asked for another favor from this couple, a young white man and a young black woman whom I had stopped in front of my home as they jogged downhill on the sidewalk located my side of the street.

"Could I get one of you to walk up to that house directly across the street from us and ring the doorbell for me. When the old lady who lives in that house answers the door, her name is Janet Gary, ask of her that the veterinarian who lives in the house directly across the street from her is concerned and wants to know what should he do when seeing her walking this beagle belonging to one of their sons, again, in their front yard? What if she falls? Tell her for me, that people her age are doing this all the time..falling...breaking their hips in the process,too! And most of these falls happen while doing something no where as nearly as complicated as walking a dog. In fact, some of them weren't doing...ANYTHING... AT... ALL...when this happens! Don't ask me what that meant. Didn't make any sense to me either."

Then I explained to them that the elderly couple living in the house across the street from me, unjustly, had a restraining order currently against me ordering me not to come within 25 yards of either one of them or within 8 yards of their property boundary. Then I point out to them how keeping a minimum of 8 yards distance from their property boundary effectively prevents me from even exiting or entering my driveway with my Jeep. Not even a bicycle had enough room squeezing through what road space was left over.

Anyway then back to what I was needing asked of Janet:

"What should we do about the dog? Should I happen upon seeing this, for example, just glancing out the window as I'm walking through my living room...what should I do? Rush immediately over and taking the leash out of her hand while she's still struggling, trying hard not letting her son's dog getting away from her then maybe getting hit by a car? Only when seeing the dog get loose? Not even when seeing the dog getting loose then immediately running into the road? How about after actually getting hit by a car? What do we do about the dog where it concerns my value to them as a veterinarian who not only is a neighbor, but one living extremely closer than any member of their church whom they also consider to be their neighbors. This is all...I...need to know. Would one of you mind ringing her doorbell and asking this of Janet for me?"

It's didn't take long one of these two answering that last question of mine.

"THAT IS A PERSONAL PROBLEM,"
she tells me as she begins turning away from me to back to jogging down the hill.
"WE ARE DEFINITELY NOT GETTING OURSELVES INVOLVED IN THIS,"
is the last thing I hear her say.

And I could have asked much more from them asking of Janet for me.

"Doesn't it say in the bible that one shouldn't cast pearls before swine? Remind her that she had asked this question once of me already."

"Then tell her, that the value/worth of my experience as a veterinarian for the pets/extended members of many other families and not just her son that dog belongs to that's being seriously compromised, made even more complicated than before the restraining order against me, by hers and the rest of her family's perceived value of both me and that dog!'

"Then tell her for me, if she was stupid enough not bringing her cellphone out with her while walking that dog, not to be expecting me offering her any help if able seeing me standing in my living room watching her, even calling 911 from my cell phone no matter how long she lays there struggling while that restraining order remains in place! If this is how her and her family sees me as an Atheist, then a Worthless Christian Bunch definitely how I see them all as she struggles."

"This basically...IS... the very same thing they are doing to me!"

"If we are all sinners having been saved because ...GOD... gave his only begotten son; plus whosoever believes in him shall not perish but have everlasting life...it's settled for me then!"

"After having observed this behavior having gone on for four years; there is no such thing
as
a Christian that's a good one...UNTIL...it is a...DEAD...one!"

Only then...
is this perceived contract ..."TRUE CHRISTIANS"...claiming to have with Jesus...FINALIZED.

Everything you hear them claiming coming from their hearts or anything written by them you're reading out loud, trust me, nothing but an aerobic...WASTE...of good air having coming in through the noses that would have done just as much good had you heard it coming out somewhere else!