Looking Back to Move Forward: Reconciling the Past - Liberating the Future

by Kelvin De'Marcus Allen

The title, "Looking Back to Move Forward," evokes an inevitable comparison to the Akan word "Sankofa," from Ghana, West Africa. The word means "looking back." It's an apt comparison. For Kelvin, his adult values first took shape when he was a child growing in Durham's sprawling Hayti District, Hayti, pronounced HAY-teye. The area is often lauded as a mecca for African Americans during the days of Jim Crow. Kelvin however, painfully recalls a world cloistered in shame, insecurity and despair ... a place where the impoverished conditions that existed had more in common with a Third World country than the southern part of the United States. It's a time many of us who grew up poor in the segregated South can identify with. Indeed, reading the opening pages of the book prompted me to recall my own childhood. My grandmother too, washed my siblings and me in a tin "foot tub" because we did not have the luxury of a real bathtub. We, too, lived in a neighborhood consumed with alcoholism, domestic violence and decrepit homes where children drank out of food cans instead of cups and glasses. The dysfunction we contended with was so commonplace we thought it was normal. Kelvin De'Marcus Allen managed to survive the psychological and spiritual damage of poverty, an indifferent father and racism. Like Parks, he credits his achievements to a mother "whose personal testimony inspired you to conquer the impossible." In Dubois' "The Souls Of Black Folk," there is an African American's double-souled self. From the harrowing effects of slavery and segregation an entire race is born with a "veil, the seventh son of the races," and thus was blessed with second sight. But, the veil also blocked the African American's sight and strivings, permitting him to see himself reflected only secondhand, "through the revelation of the other world," the world of whites. Thus the veil was a tragic gift, the mythic rendering of the color line. "Looking Back to Move

176 pages, Paperback

First published May 26, 2006

Reviews

[Bryan Christopher · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great local history and perspective. I especially enjoyed the first half of the book centered around his childhood in Durham's Hayti district.

[Alex Charns · Rating 5 out of 5]

As a 67-year-old white man who grew up in apartheid-like segregation in suburban Detroit, I have so much to learn about race and racism. I’m learning a lot about Durham’s Hayti District as Kelvin De’Marcus Allen looks back on his childhood of poverty, soul crushing racism, shielded only by the love of his mother.

Mr. Allen is an accomplished writer and producer. He is a graduate of North Carolina Central University in Durham, N.C.; he holds a Master of Arts degree and a Juris Doctor (J.D.) Degree. His story that knocked me back started on a walk with his mother.

"The heat was unbearable. . . . Then, out of nowhere, came the honking of a car horn, over and over, growing louder and louder. Afraid, I inched closer to my mother, pressing my body into hers. I looked up at her, pleading with her to pick me up - but she was tired, and it was hot, hotter than I ever remembered it to be. She had no idea what was about to happen . . . The noise was now directly behind us. . . . All I could hear now was the music blaring from the car's radio. The car was beside us. My mother stopped, swung around and tried to shield me . . . A voice snapped, "HEY Ns, GIT ON HOME. NOW, GIT I SAID! GO HOME, Ns."

The two made it the mile home in the blistering heat - his mother carrying him the entire way. Later, little Kelvin learned that the three white men were killed the very same day by Black teens who had been racistly set upon.

Other lessons in bigotry and shame inflicted upon Kelvin happen at school. Despite his hard childhood, the book is hopeful and filled with joy. Joy of fatherhood despite its challenges and the satisfaction of looking back and seeing the years he’s traveled to get to the place where he stands today.

I’m proud to call Kelvin De’Marcus Allen my friend and my teacher.