In search of our mothers garde
In search of our mothers gardeIn Search of Our Mothers' Gardens - Alice Walker
When the poet Jean Toomer walked through the South in the early twenties, he discovered a curious thing: black women whose spirituality was so intense, so deep, so unconscious, they were themselves unaware of the richness they held. They stumbled blindly through their lives: creatures so abused and mutilated in body, so dimmed and confused by pain, that they considered themselves unworthy even of hope. In the selfless abstractions their bodies became to the men who used them, they became more than �sexual objects,� more even than mere women: they became �Saints.� Instead of being perceived as whole persons, their bodies became shrines: what were thought to be their minds became temples suitable for worship. These crazy Saints stared out at the world, wildly, like lunatics � or quietly, like suicides; and the �God� that was in their gaze was as mute as a great stone. This attitude towards women, especially black women, as being a sexual object presents a sensitive subject. We are presented with an image of black women as helpless beings, and
the only form of artistic expression available to them is their daily life. In the ordinary tasks of cooking, sewing, and growing food, tasks on which their survival depended, these women found a way to express the yearnings of the soul for hope and beauty, as well as the desire to be remembered. Unable to read and to write their own stories, these generations of mothers and grandmothers, their own lives became their greatest work of art.
Walker explores the theories...
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