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An Excerpt From Merry
Christmas, Baby |
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"A
Holiday Letter From The Justice Family"
Los Angeles, California
December 1996
Hey Now! We can't believe it's holiday time again! It seems
like we just took down the Christmas lights and put away
the Kwanzaa candles and here it is time to do it all over
again. But we don't mind, for every time we unwrap an ornament
or polish the kinara, we take time to reflect on the year's
activities and count our many blessings.
The Justice family—Perris, Louise, and the twins, Ebony
and Ivory—continues to grow and thrive. Perris won a big
class-action suit this summer and while he can't discuss
the details of the settlement, he's very proud of the fact
that African Americans and other minorities in the state
won't suffer the kind of humiliating redlining on home loans
that we've all experienced at one time or another. Louise
led the celebration festivities in a very appropriate fashion—she
found a house in View Park for the family to buy! You can
bet, too, when the bank saw the Justice name on that application,
it just sailed on through the system without a hitch. For
once Justice applies to more than "just us!"
Don't go getting the wrong idea, though; Louise has been
doing a lot more than looking at houses and wallpaper patterns
this year. She continues to be active on the board of the
Umoja Center for Battered Families and a new Black symphony
organization. That in addition to opening two new
Read 'Em and Weep bookstores in the Glendale Galleria and
on Rodeo Drive. Who woulda thunk it—a romance novel
bookstore started by a South Central sistuh that was so
successful in the 'hood that it financed two more in less
than five years?! And they say Negroes don't read!
Speaking of the N word, Ebony and Ivory collaborated this
fall on an essay on the terms Black folk have called ourselves
over the years. Did you know the debate goes back
to 1835, when a national Negro Convention recommended that
Black folk remove the word "African" from the titles of
our organizations and stop calling ourselves "colored" in
favor of "Negro?" That's just one of a dozen different "official"
names that we've adopted through the years that the kids
uncovered. You can see them holding their first-place
awards from their school in the picture we're enclosing
with this letter. As you can tell from the picture,
Ivory, our Dark Prince, is getting so tall—5'3" and only
eight years old! And poor Ebony is not getting any darker
no matter how long she plays in the sun. Some of the
kids at school called her "throwback" so much, she looked
it up and used it as one of the terms in her essay, too!
No discussion of the Justice family would be complete without
mentioning our growing boxer family. Samson (aka Boxer-with-an-Attitude)
finally got a girlfriend, Delilah, whom we bought last Valentine's
Day. They hit it off immediately, and on November 2nd, they
had a litter of six puppies! Ivory wanted to name them after
famous African American boxing champions, which was fine
for Ali, Brown Bomber, and Jack (Johnson). But it didn't
work for the all-white boxer or the two girls in the litter.
So Ebony came up with Rocky (she says for white boxer Rocky
Balboa, but Papa Justice reminded her that Rocky Marciano
was a champion, too) and names of African queens for the
girls. And don't you know Neffy (for Queen Nefertiti) and
Latifah (for you-know-who) are holding their own against
the fellas, too. When the boy puppies get too rambunctious,
Mama Delilah slaps them back into line. The joke around
here is she's been listening too much to the old LL Cool
J song "Mama's Gonna Knock You Out!"
Speaking of knockouts, Louise's mother, Luzianne, is rocking
and rolling with the best of them. She had her sixty-second
birthday in June and took early retirement from the gas
company, although she still helps Louise out at the bookstores.
We can't call her "Pistol-Packin' Granny" anymore,
though. She turned in her .38 special at one of those "cash
for guns" programs the city sponsored and used the
$75 to start karate lessons. As Miss Luzianne says, "Honey,
they coulda hit me over the head any day of the week up
in those stores and took my pistol, but they damn sure can't
take my feet!"
Did we mention Miss Luzianne's new husband, Henry?
Well, he's just about as wild as she is. They met at the
Bostonian Bid Whist Society in March and have been married
since September. Grandpa Henry is sixty-eight and has a
number of activities he's involved in, too. The latest is
a write-in campaign to get the U.S. Postal Service to issue
a Black Santa Claus stamp. Crazy as it sounds, there are
now Native American, Latino, and Asian write-in efforts
getting started and they're calling the campaign "Christmas
Knows No Color." Montel Williams even flew Grandpa
Henry to New York to tape a show on the topic two weeks
ago. It should air the second week in December, but check
your local TV Guide for the exact day in your area.
Perris's sisters are doing well, too. Charlotte's still
chasing the bad guys and Macon is still teaching school
in Oakland. After several years of deliberation, the youngest
sister, Rhodesia, changed her name to Zimbabwe. Perris's
parents' habit of naming the kids after places was cool
for Perris (after a small town here in California where
Perris's Grandmama Cile had a house), Charlotte (where Papa
Justice is from), or even Macon (Mama Justice's home). But
when Papa Justice started pulling out the atlas and looking
at African cities and countries, things got a little out
of hand. And poor Rhodesia, who's twenty-eight now and very
Afrocentric, just couldn't see being named after a white
colonial regime, so the logical change was to Zimbabwe.
We actually agreed with her, but since nobody has the breath
to call her Zimbabwe Justice Munir, we just call her Zimbe
or Z for short.
Papa Justice is still in shock from the skizillion dollars
he got for his formula for a non-greasy curl activator (Mama
Justice wanted to call it "Grease Relief" but
that name was taken). Our new house is close by so, for
the first time this year, Papa Justice and Grandpa Henry
will be donning Santa Claus outfits together and playing
"Christmas gif'" with the neighborhood kids. Older
than Kwanzaa, the Christmas gif' tradition goes back to
the Dark Days (we mean slavery—not the Reagan administration).
Back then, slaves on the plantations put little presents,
a piece of fruit or some candy, in their pockets and if
someone came up to them and said "Christmas gif'"
first, they'd have to give them a present. Mama and Papa
Justice used to do it every year with Perris and his sisters
and now we're carrying the tradition on with our kids and
the neighborhood children, too. By the time the grandpas
get to our house, their pockets will be empty, but we're
going to put a secret stash in the laundry room so they
can refill and Ebony and Ivory can play.
This year will be the first Christmas for Zimbe and Jamal's
new baby boy. As Afrocentric as they are, we expected names
like Jamal or Kweisi, but they named him Frederick, after
Frederick Douglass, which Jamal says is Afrocentric but
American, too. And, honey, don't we all have our feet in
both cultures!
We'll probably all be gathered around our tree late Christmas
morning, wrapping paper everywhere, Ivory playing with his
latest action hero, Ebony probably reading a book, Mama
Justice sitting back, tapping her foot to the "Soulful
Messiah" or a Johnny Mathis song, and Louise and Miz
Luzianne frying up oysters, scrambling eggs, and pulling
the monkey bread out of the oven for the breakfast feast.
Perris swears he'll be there this time instead of at the
liquor store trying to find "D" batteries for
the latest gadget he's bought for the kids, but Louise will
keep a plate warm for him if he forgets again. After the
grandpas do their Christmas gif' thing, we'll have some
cranberry cider or eggnog to toast the Christmas child and
dig into Miz Luzianne's monkey bread (we've enclosed the
recipe this year for those of you who keep asking for it).
On December 26th through January 1st, we celebrate Kwanzaa
over at Zimbe's and Jamal's. Jamal used to be very hard
line about celebrating Kwanzaa and not Christmas, but Perris
told him if Jewish kids can light menorahs and get Christmas
presents, too, then a kinara and a Christmas tree could
certainly peacefully coexist. Jamal finally relented, so
in addition to a tree they decorate with African American
ornaments they buy from the Museum of African American Art
and Cal Afro Museum here, they have a beautiful Kwanzaa
display on the dining room table. Miz Luzianne turned
them on to a wonderful Louisiana woodcarver who made them
a kinara that's too fierce—it has corn and fruit carved
into the base, surrounding a family that he carved from
pictures Zimbe sent of she, Jamal, Frederick, and the grandparents.
There's even a space for the baby they hope to adopt one
day.
Every night as we gather at the Munir household for dinner,
a light snack, or just a brief ceremony, we honor one of
the Kwanzaa principles.
Last year we told African folk tales from a wonderful book
called "Wherever Dreams Live" by Peter Harris that gives
insight into the meaning of each principle. This year
Zimbe, Ebony, and Ivory have been working on stories about
African American business leaders and inventors to illustrate
each of the principles at the lighting of the Kwanzaa candles.
Despite the economy and upheaval here in L.A. (how many
three-ring media circuses and acts of God does it take before
Rodney King's words "can't we all just get along?" sink
in?) we are most richly blessed. We know that the
miracle of this holiday season is, amidst the hustle and
bustle, remembering the love of family and friends like
you. So, however you choose to spend your holidays,
our love and thoughts are with you and we remain…
THE JUSTICE FAMILY
Perris
Louise
Ivory
Ebony
P.S. If anyone out there wants a boxer puppy, call us…please! |
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