RIP Amari Baraka.
Believe it or not, Amari Baraki and I spent more than an hour and a half conversing one on one, seated next to one another on a commercial airplane.
The year was 1993. I was flying home (Boston to DC) to plan the funeral of my 87-year-old mother who had died very suddenly and unexpectedly from an undetected viral blood cancer. I had just the evening before attended a talk he had given at Brookline High School that presented his critique of Spike Lee's just-released controversial film, "Malcolm X." As the talk was coming to a close, I was shocked to see Ray Shurtleff, the dean of the high school program in which I taught, approaching me. He had driven over to Brookline to fetch me with the horrible information that my mother was in hospital approaching death.
Twelve hours later I was on that plane, seated next to the very same Amari Baraki. Stunned, I told him this coincidence had to mean something powerful. Understanding the nature of my trip, he began to comfort me. He described how he had been faced with the identical situation and told me in great detail what he had planned for his own mother's funeral. His poignant dialogue inspired me and helped me summon the courage to write and deliver the eulogy for my own mother, something I told him I could never imagine doing. We sat together on that plane and shared our life narratives: talk at length about our respective mothers that did not withhold intimate details about our family relations. We explained to each other how we had become radicalized. We shared thoughts about our respective work teaching social justice, about being radical activists; we described our personal relationships with civil rights radicals in The Movement.
Baraki could not have been more understanding, patient, compassionate and generous with my grieving. He laughed out loud when I told him that if my family knew that I was having this intense personal, intimate conversation with this "flaming" radical while en route to my Jewish mother's funeral, they'd likely throw me into the open grave with her. Our talk was priceless, a precious gift to a grieving son. His words gave me the strength of mind to do what had to do. (I have to say that the serendipity of my crazy wild radical life narrative is truly mind boggling. I am truly blessed.) #AmariBaraka
