The Problem of Black Motherhood in Grimke, Wright and Dunbar-Nelson

            Throughout Harlem Renaissance literature there is a strong focus on the issues presented by black motherhood.  Some works, like Alice Dunbar-Nelson's  essay "Woman's Most Serious Problem," point out the necessity of motherhood.  Dunbar-Nelson uses alarming statistics about birth rates to make her point.  It seems more often the case, however, that motherhood in the black community is portrayed negatively.  Often mothers are put in precarious situations and forced to watch as their children are treated unfairly and violently by white dominated society.  Being injured or killed for simply being who you are is something that no mother wants to see for her child, and causes negative feelings towards the idea of having children.  Richard Wright's "Bright and Morning Star" illustrates the constant worry faced by a mother, and the way in which she struggles to protect her children.  Wright takes great care to place Sue at the epicenter of the problems faced by her son.  Angelina Weld Grimké's Rachel deals with motherhood by showing the ways in which potential African American parents are discouraged from having children because they perceive that bringing a black child into the world is an act of cruelty.  These works come together to present an image of motherhood as unattractive to black women.

            Wright's "Bright and Morning Star" begins with Sue's worry and nervousness as she waits for Johnny-Boy: "She sighed, troubling, Johnny-Boy's been trampin in this slop all day wid no decent shoes on his feet" (75).  This suggests that a black mother's fate is to worry for her children because danger and hard times for them are inevitable.  She forces herself into doing chores around the house to take her mind off her son, but asks, "But how could she forget Johnny-Boy out there on those wet fields . . . that was just what Sug had been doing when the sheriff had caught him, beat him" (76).  As she claims "Ah been a lil scared ever since Sug went t jail" (76), she affirms that she lives in constant fear for her children.  She has already lost one son and sees it as inevitable that she will lose another: "Sug was gone and she didn't know just when Johnny-Boy would be taken too" (77).  Sug's incarceration before the action even begins suggests that the odds for these children are so slim that a mother with two sons is likely to lose them both, whether they be lost to prison or violence.

            Just as Sue worries about the fate of her children, Rachel worries about the fate of her potential children.  It is a worry that Rachel acknowledges: "this is the way I should feel, if I were little Jimmy's mother" (203).  Referring to women like Sue, Rachel claims, "everywhere, throughout the South, there are hundreds of dark mothers who live in fear, terrible, suffocating fear, whose rest by night is broken, and whose joy by day in their babies on their hearts is three parts—pain"  (203).  Judging from examples she sees around her, she seeks to avoid the violence and incarceration that has plagued the children of women like Sue.  Her experience with violence comes in the form of the tragic lynching of her father and brother.  These past events shed light on the reason that Rachel abandons her dream of having children.  She does not wish for her own children to be treated badly at school, nor can she imagine seeing them lynched.  The unfortunate thing for Rachel is that she sees constant reminders of the fate of black children.  The young girl Ethel Lane is treated so harshly in school that she is only able to stay for two weeks, and her worst fears are realized as Jimmy comes home from school to ask her what the word "nigger" means. 

            The awful situations observed by these characters creates a pessimistic belief that black children are doomed from birth.  There is little motivation to bring a child into the world who will be hated, assaulted, and forced into the place of a second class citizen.  Childbirth is complicated by the issue of how hard it is to be an African American, as Rachel says "We are all blighted" (225).  It is a feeling shared not only by mothers, as Tom says "how pathetic and tragic a thing — a little colored child is?"  (212).  He again refers to the idea that black children are doomed from birth and have only pain to look forward to.  Referring to this belief, she asks Strong if he believes that it may sometimes be a kindness to kill.  She ponders whether "it would be more merciful—to strangle the little things at birth" (203).

            As mothers, these women have the safety and well-being of their children in mind, but society complicates this by making it harder to be a minority.  Seeing the treatment of people of color creates a hopeless feeling for the future of your children.  Not having children may be a somewhat pessimistic view, but the texts make valid statements about the tragedies a black mother will have to endure should she decide to have children.  While Sue serves to demonstrate the stress that a mother is put through, Rachel represents the reasoning that goes into having a child.  These women clearly love children, but Rachel sees not having children as an act of love.  She wants to help her children preemptively by not even having them.  By keeping children from the world entirely, she saves them the pain that comes from living in a white dominated society.  Just as Tom claims in Rachel, the difference between white and black children is stark: "Their children shall grow up in hope; ours, in despair" (208).  While whites are also among the persecuted in "Bright and Morning Star," Johnny-Boy's punishment is made all the more severe because he is a black man.  The difference between white parents and black parents becomes a wide gap where white parents have hope for their children to grow up and be successful, while black parents have despair.

Religion, Futility, and Gender: The Novels of Wright and Marshall

            The role of religion in African American culture has been substantial.  Some black authors have been ardent supporters, while still many others have taken a decidedly negative stance on the subject.  Beginning with the slave trade, Africans were taken from their homes and villages, and forced to adapt in a new environment.  It was only natural that many slaves adopted the religion of their master, usually one of Christianity’s many denominations.  It has been used as a coping mechanism and helped bring about a sense of community, but has been criticized throughout black literature as a source of escapism.  Through the novels Native Son and Brown Girl, Brownstones the authors present similar ideas regarding Christianity.  While not taking a strictly negative stance, the characters of these novels gain no benefit whatsoever from religion. Both Richard Wright and Paule Marshall offer cautionary warnings about the practice of religion within the African American community. 

            From the perspective of Wright, the most powerful aspect of religion in black culture has been in its ability to help its adherents to rationalize their situation without giving any actual positive effects. Wright’s novels serve to “…emphasize the declining efficacy of black Christian theism in modern times of crisis” (Whitted 13-30).  This can be seen in Native Son through Bigger’s interactions with other major characters.  Richard Wright’s opinion of religion, as a result of his upbringing, is evident in a great many passages of Native Son, especially those involving Bigger’s mother, the Reverend Hammond, and Bigger’s conversations with Boris Max.

            Wright’s own opinion of religion can be traced back to his childhood.  His grandmother, a Seventh Day Adventist, was seen by Wright as an oppressor determined to stifle his intellectual and artistic pursuits.  Robert Butler, speaking of Wright’s childhood in his autobiography, Black Boy, states that "He deeply resented his grandmother's reducing his reading and writing to ‘devil's work’ (41) and her forbidding him to listen to music, dance, and play sports with his friends" (46-60).   Wright’s views on religion, however, encompassed his view on the entire black community.  Butler continues, “…he was repelled by his grandmother's conception of an Old Testament God who ruled by fear and violence since such a deity resembled too closely the white authority figures who ruled the segregated South" (46-60).  Such opinions are prevalent in the narrative of Native Son.

            Throughout Native Son, perhaps the most dominant religious force of Bigger’s life is that of his mother.  She can often be heard singing religious hymns and attending religious services.  Her life is likely wrought with depression as she struggles with the problem child of Bigger, and the stress of keeping her family together under such poor conditions.  Her need for escape seems obvious, and allows Wright to draw a parallel between Bigger’s mother and his lover, Bessie.  The pain of Bessie’s life is covered by her frequent binge drinking, while Mrs. Thomas uses her religion to get by.  Wright reveals Bigger’s opinion as the narrator articulates his thoughts: “He hated his mother for that way of hers which was like Bessie’s. What his mother had was Bessie’s whiskey, and Bessie’s whiskey was his mother’s religion” (240).

            While his mother was a representation of the escapism that religion represented, the reverend of her church, Hammond, can be seen as representative of the futility of religious practice.  Right from his introduction we hear Hammond’s broken language, which we can assume to be a symbol of ignorance.  His words drone on as Bigger remembers the meaning of the words, “…it was the old voice of his mother telling of suffering, of hope, of love beyond this world” (283).  Hammond’s words serve no purpose for Bigger, as he gives advice such as, “Fergit ever’thing but yo’ soul, son. Take yo’ mind off ever’thing but eternal life” (283).  Hammond represents a clear statement of religious practice; its only purpose is to take one’s mind and worries off of this world and to place it into the next.

            Bigger’s personal opinion of religion is touched upon only briefly in several scenes, the most telling of these being gleaned through Bigger’s conversations with Max.  Through their discussions the character of Max allows Bigger to be himself, to articulate his true feelings.  When asked about religion, Bigger responds, “There was nothing in it.  Aw, all they did was sing and shout and pray all the time.  And it didn’t get ‘em nothing.  All the colored folks do that, but it don’t get ‘em nothing” (355).  The idea of which world is more important becomes evident as he goes on to tell Max that “I wanted to be happy in this world, not out of it… The white folks like for us to be religious, then they can do what they want to with us” (356).

            Wright’s and Marshall’s novels also effectively intertwine the ideas of gender and religious belief, most notably the assertion of gender through rejection of religion.  A rather important cornerstone of Wright’s fiction is his depiction of masculinity.  Bigger’s masculinity is displayed and exaggerated in a myriad of ways, from public masturbation to rape.  Among these is also religious skepticism, which serves to become “gestures of masculine assertiveness” within Wright’s work (Whitted 13-30).  On the other hand, Marshall, who is largely associated with being a feminist writer, makes a feminine assertion of strength and religious rejection in the character of Silla Boyce.  Her strong femininity and rejection of religion can be likened to Deighton’s weakness and eventual blind acceptance of the teachings of Father Peace.  This serves to outline Marshall’s similar point about religion, while, like Wright, framing it within the context of gender.

            Silla’s ideas of religion contribute to the idea that Christianity is a means of escaping the woes of life; they reinforce the futility of the practice.   Although Selina rejects her mother’s ideology, her mother’s strength still plays an important role in her life and development. Her contribution to the family is an important one, as she seems to be the only parent grounded in a solid reality.   Silla’s comments on religion hold contempt from a worldly standpoint.  Her comment, “the rum shop and the church join together to keep we pacify and in ignorance” (70), is indicative of the fact that she values a real worldly progress over that of the unseen and unknown spiritual.

            Paule Marshall’s Brown Girl, Brownstones shows escapism in another, more severe way with the character of Deighton Boyce.  Just as African Americans using religion as escapism have done so because of hard living, so too does Deighton turn to the cult-like church of Father Peace.  He’s been beaten mentally into a state of hopelessness.  The loss of his land and the more extreme loss of his arm leave him a broken man with a broken spirit that makes it easy to recruit him into the “Kingdom”.

            Deighton’s cult-like belief in Father Peace strongly contrasts that of Silla, as his situation causes him to lose sight of the present world and seek comfort in the afterlife with Father Peace.  His personality begins to show weakness, as compared to the resolve shown by Silla.  After telling her there is “Life in Father!” she chastises him, “Life? Lemme tell you, life ain up in no Father Peace kingdom.  It out here scuffling to get by” (172).  He follows a “…doctrine that cannot adequately address the real problems circling him…” (Cobb 631). It is for this reason that we can glean some insight into Deighton’s probable suicide; he was likely hoping for a better life in a world beyond this one.

            His weakness in religion is also shown by the loss of his individuality.  He exemplifies this weakness in front of Selina during their visit to the Kingdom with his exclamation of “I am nothing!” (169).  According to Cobb, “…his faith must be placed in how 'God is everything' and in how Deighton is nothing" (631). His frequent mutterings of phrases of praise for Father Peace show how his faith intrudes upon every facet of his life.  Mindless and repetitive uttering like, “Peace, it’s wonderful,” and, “Thank you Father,” illuminate his devotion but disconnect him from the real world, especially from his family. 

            Father Peace is analogous to the real figure of Father Divine.  The real Father Divine was a man who claimed to be the living incarnate of God, and began a following which eventually settled in Harlem.  According to Professor Harvard Sitkoff, he was a man who possessed “…strange powers over his fanatical yet gullible cult followers,” and, “robbed the innocent of their money and chastity” (659).  Just like many cult leaders have been, he was known for his lavish lifestyle.   He was a figure of controversy; often the press speculated upon accusations of sex with followers and his materialistic ways.  It is easy to see the similarities between Deighton and Father Divine.  Divine was characterized by a materialistic view that Deighton shared, evident in his overt appetite for fancy clothes and a good time. 

                        As Marshall and Wright display their opinions through narrative, a number of similarities arise.  Most telling of their similar opinions are their metaphors relating alcoholism to religion.  Silla’s comment of the rum shop’s harboring of passivity is parallel to the link between Bessie’s whiskey and the religion of Bigger’s mother.  Loss of individuality becomes apparent in scenes with Deighton and even with Bigger as Hammond’s exclamation to Bigger that the only thing giving his life meaning is the cross he holds before him.  In addition, both Bigger and Silla affirm their gender identity by rejecting conventional notions of religion. 

            Wright’s and Marshall’s commentary serve to produce a warning against complacency.  Without a blind devotion to religion, it seems, African Americans could be more difficult for society to put down.  They could play a more vital role in their surroundings instead of discarding their current lives in favor of a proposed afterlife free of all the toils of the one that they live daily.  Instead they discard their individuality and take part in an opiate-like practice that shields their hearts from the harsh realities of life.   As we see from Silla and Deighton, their opposing ideologies lead to drastically different outcomes.  Deighton denies his identity and finds himself at the bottom of the ocean, while Silla finds herself in good financial standing at the association.  Although not without struggles, she still achieves the goals she had set for herself.  The novels present black culture and society as imperfect and flawed, with religion as a corner pillar in its erroneous ideology.

Works Cited

Butler, Robert. "Seeking Salvation in a Naturalistic Universe: Richard Wright's Use of His Southern Religious Background in Black Boy (American Hunger)." Southern Quarterly. 46.2 (2009): 46-60. Print.

Cobb, Michael L. "Irreverent Authority: Religious Apostrophe and the Fiction of Blackness in Paule Marshall's Brown Girl, Brownstones." University of Toronto Quarterly 72.2 (2003): 631. Print.

Marshall, Paule.  Brown Girl, Brownstones. New York: The Feminist Press at CUNY, 2006. Print.

Sitkoff, Harvard. "Review: A Father Divine for the New Age." American Quarterly. 45.4 (1993):            659-663. Print.

Whitted, Quina. ""Using My Grandmother's Life as a Model": Richard Wright and the Gendered Politics of Religious Representation." Southern Literary Journal. 36.2 (2004): 13-30. Print.

Wright, Richard. Native Son. New York: Harper Perennial Modern Classics, 1940. Print.