Life Lines

Oh sisters, let’s go down, come on down,

Good Lord, show me the way.

“Down in the river to pray” is a classic African-American spiritual, and the singer of the rendition we’re sharing with you is Abu Ali Abdur’Rahman, our newest member of the Life Lines Collective. Abu Ali is our twelfth contributor, and even more remarkable, he is the first contributor who does not live on North Carolina’s death row.

Abu Ali joins us from Tennessee’s death row at Riverbend Maximum Security Institution where he has lived since 1987. He introduces himself by describing the long spiritual journey he has undergone over the past 31 years. Drawing on this sojourn and the wisdom he has gleaned from companions in Sunni Islam, Episcopalian Christianity, Eastern spirituality, and Native American religious traditions, he cites prayer through song as a significant part of his spiritual practice.

We are delighted for the chance to share his voice with you now, as he sings “Down in the river to pray” from Riverbend.

Our conflict is a continuing erosion of fundamental rights.

On top of being entertaining and breaking box office records, Black Panther has animated thoughtful conversations about race and afrofuturism that take seriously the weighty and complex histories which have unfolded over the past five hundred years. Plus, you won’t find a superhero movie with more complex characters. We won’t give away any spoilers, but how about Killmonger’s last line?

Unlike most of the film’s characters who, as native-born Wakandans, seem to have little direct experience with colonization and slavery, Killmonger grew up in the United States, in the Oakland projects, and carries the unequal burden history has placed on his flesh. These distinct realities present some of the central tension of the movie: Which histories are this mythic African nation willing to acknowledge, and how will they draw on these reservoirs of identity as they confront a future of uncertainty and danger?

In “For Freedom,” Rodney Taylor, Sr. writes with a voice that could be that of Killmonger’s uncle. The piece is written in response to Colson Whitehead’s The Underground Railroad with a cadence evocative of both a work song and a steam engine gaining speed. As the work progresses from cotton fields towards freedom, Taylor shows us passing landscapes of the pain and dignity that fuel his journey. By studying these landscapes, we can begin to understand where we are and where we want to go.

You want to be happy, because that seems like a normal thing to want to be