My wife, daughter, and I went to dinner sponsored by the Capital District Cameroonian Association of New York (CDCA-NY) on a Saturday night a few months ago. As we sat at a table before the meal, one of the organizers, who is also a member of our church, asked if I would give the invocation. I would be the designated pray-er.
I mumbled to myself briefly before he said, “Or I could try to get somebody else.” Geez, I didn’t want him to have to do that. After all, I’m about 3% Cameroonian. For about ten minutes, I feverishly wrote something that seemed appropriate and gave the prayer.
It’s interesting that when it comes to giving public prayers, I’m not terribly comfortable doing so outside a church setting. When my in-laws would get together back in the 20-oughts and 20-teens, my MIL would often designate me to bless the food. That was no big deal.
But I was working at the NY Small Business Development Center as a librarian. We had our statewide staff training in Manhattan in the spring of 2002, so our first collective gathering after 9/11. The local center had arranged for clergy to deliver the opening invocation, but they didn’t show up. At the last minute, either someone from the center arranging the event or maybe our state director asked me to do it. Er, ah… sure, and I did.
Some folks actually called me Pastor Green
For some weeks thereafter, there was a rumor within the NY SBDC that I WAS a pastor. Nah, though, if you had asked me when I was about 11 to 15 years old what I would be when I grew up, I might have said a minister.
A few years ago, I was searching for myself on Newspapers.com and found three pieces, all in the first third of 1970. There was the famous Green Family Singers article. I found a notice about a Negro History Week commemoration at which several people, including me, were reading Langston Hughes’ poems, and my sister Leslie played guitar and sang.
Then there’s the event mentioned above, the second anniversary of MLK’s death. Please note who was giving the eulogy and benediction. BTW, I don’t recall doing this.
Anyway, I’m apparently blessed with a particular skill set.
Even before illustrator Marcus Kwame Anderson gave a talk at the Albany Public Library on June 9, I was inclined to purchase his book Big Jim and the White Boy, written by David F. Walker. The 270+ page graphic novel is “an American classic reimagined.” Radically reimagined, to be sure. Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain is the book in question.
An email I received on August 28 from the National Museum of African American History and Culture was titled: How today’s date changed America again and again. Yeah, I know – it refuses to be ordinary.