|Ronald V. Dellums
Let me introduce you to the sower of the seed which is me...to the deeply earthed root of the tree of my life...to the man who shares my heart, my eyes, my smile, and almost by birthday...My Precious Daddy, Ronald V Dellums. My hero is the platinum-haired angel, standing often alone, on majestic rocky mountain ranges and in the center of fires raging across nations and through communities...he is the David wielding the double-edged sword, and holding in his perfect palms the necessary stones to slay great Goliath s. He has been tempered in the acidic belly juices of many great whales that attempted, in vein, to swallow up peace, freedom, hope and justice, and as has lay down beside the most ferocious and the most eloquently throne d lions in the kingdom of men, he offered himself as a sacrifice...a sacrificial lamb that continues to walk unscathed by the fiery darts of his enemies and the deeply cleaved wounds of his foe. My daddy is phoenix on the rise, and eagles strength in flight...he is the hum of the winter breaking, and the fury of a volcano as it erupts...he is sinner and he is saint-humanity at its greatest- and humanity at its most humbled.
My father has been crucified before those he loved, those he had yet to meet, those he feared and those that feared him- 6 inch nails securing his golden flesh to the crosses of the human imagination... crucified and whipped by those he aided, gave life to and life for. And when his very flesh was ripped from his strong frame, by murderous tongue, accusations, bigotry, greed, fear and betrayal, he persevered... he rose again...he heralded the call for change, for love, for peace, for dignity. My daddy has spilled abundant tears into salted seas, uproarious oceans, simple Sunday morning puddles, and in dense shadows against the echoes of his own despair.
My daddy has celebrated in black tie, and black- panther beret- He has swayed in orchestrated dance and victory after the falsely accused, falsely imprisoned, and myriad battered of our worlds' construct have been set free. He has boogeyed, jived, ham-boned and waltzed after football games, after meals on-the-go, after our weddings, the birth of our children, the manifestation of our dreams, the rise from our falls, great rich bottles of wine, holidays and "just becauses" My father has sung the songs of freedom, and belted the songs of the blues after midnight. in tune... to his own drummer, and perfectly, and symbiotically off key. My father has run political, social and natural races when the winding course set before him was riddled in rough and toxic domain, and yet crossed every finish line, though exhausted, burdened, hungry, scraped, bloodied and almost broken in the perfect time of the champion he was called to be.
My father is my hero and the hero of the invisible, the oppressed, depressed, lost, shattered, despised, abused, faceless and nameless all over the world- from the addicted to the incarcerated, from the healed to the crippled, the activist to the veteran, the wealthy to the homeless, the peace monger, the Eve's and Esther's, to those longing for freedom and human dignities in every race, gender, sexual orientation and faith painted in distinction on the great canvas of the human condition. He is shattered glass hand- made into stunning mosaic, from the inner city of Oakland to the halls of Congress, the African velds, the Central American Rain Forests, the Walls of Russia and wailing walls of Israel. the tears of the Middle East, antiquated dignity of Asia, the ideologies of the educated, the feared, the fearless, the homeless, the bastard the brilliant, the king.
My dad stepped out of obscurity into his international and God- driven mission with integrity, distinction, honor, courage, style and brilliance. My father, Ron Dellums, is the sweet fragrance that permeates souls, elevates spirits, absorbs barren earth and stimulates great harvests of body, mind, spirit, soul, and essential promise after a heavy rain. His name has rolled off of tongue of great leaders, great presidents, the greatest of the Beatles-John Lennon, film stars, rock stars, priests, rabbis, monks, athletes, scientists, doctors, survivors, judges, lovers, wives, children, grandchildren, friends, neighbors, soldiers, slaves. Kings and drag queens...all reaping harvests of wisdom, promise, purpose, prayer and provision from the seed he's sown along the way. My dad is beauty in creation, humanity in both weakness and strength...he is resolve, resolution, resilience and respect...he is an American hero- an African American hero- an international hero and my hero.
"Failure is not a crime. The crime is not trying."
"If you define "niggers" as someone whose lifestyle is defined by others, whose opportunities are defined by others, whose role in society are defined by others, then Good News! You don't have to be black to be a "nigger" in this society. Most of the people in America are "niggers".
LYING DOWN WITH THE LIONS-2000
SOUTH AFRICA: THE US CONNECTION-1985