Cross or Crossroads: The Practice of African Spirituality in the Deep South
by Jolivette Anderson
(c) January 19, 2004

    As I sit here in Indiana, the 'Crossroads of America', called this I
assume because of its position on the map, I am struggling with a way to
define what I consider a deeper meaning of the term 'crossroads'.  Based on
my understanding of the Ifa Tradition, Esu/Elegba is the guardian of the
Crossroads, and it is Esu whom we ask permission to enter into any decision
by giving him an offering before seeking guidance.  I usually toss three
pieces of chocolate to Papa Legba before I proceed to ask for guidance, safe
travel or assistance to make an important decision. I have been guided by
elders in making offerings to Orisas since I have yet to be initiated, nor
do
I have any formal training in the tradition. It was at my father's burial
site in our church cemetary, back in the woods of North Louisiana, where I
realized how deep the hoodoo runs in my family. It is my understanding that
West African Religious practices migrated with the slave trade and became
VooDoo in the Caribbean and the South and later became HooDoo which is
totally a Black Southern term and can not be claimed or owned by any other
people on the planet, and because of this understanding, the simplest things
from my childhood now have profound meaning and significance.

    1) my grandmother slept with a pail of water under the foot of her bed.
Why?  It is believed that the soul would get out of the body at night and
roam and if it got thirsty it would have water to drink.  Some people sleep
with a glass of water beside the bed or put containers of water under the
window sill for various reasons.
    2) my grandmother always wore an ankle bracelet with a dime on it. Why?
This was to ward off evil spirits. There is something about Silver that is
suppose to act as a deterent to evil. Perhaps there is a parallel to the
silver bullet and the werewolf in horror stories, this idea having come from
somthing in African Tradition and was misinterpreted. NOTE: an ankle
bracelet with a penny was used for medicianal purposes, helping with
arthritis.  It is funny and sad to see copper bracelets for sale in the
pharmacy today.

    When I say 'hoodoo' I am speaking of the practices of Black people in
the deep-south to ward off bad or evil spirits or to thank God for the
blessings bestowed upon them in the form of healing herbs and healing words.
  Hoodoo is the African American (Black Southerners) version of Voodoo or
Voudou which means 'protective spirit' and can be found and identified in
many countries in Africa especially West African Yoruba Religious practices.
   It is the PRACTICE of becoming God as opposed to waiting on God to do for
you what you can do for yourself. No greater 'protective spirit' do we lay
claim to than Jesus the Christ but there are other protective spirits that
were passed down to us orally that blended in with the worship of Jesus the
Christ very well because of the CrossRoads that smybolize the powers or
forces of nature smybolized by Esu/Elegba.

AT THE CROSS

"At the cross, at the cross where I first saw the light and the burdens of
my heart rolled away.  It was there by faith I received my sight and now I
am happy all the day"

    Happy indeed, the holy ghost got me even.  Arthur Flowers, moderator of
thehoodooway listserve posted some information on African American
Archaeology in South Carolina.  An archaeologist by the name of JW Joseph
mentioned  the signature of potters who 'made their mark' with an X.  The X
itself has always symbolized the unknown for me and the X has always been a
Cross in my mind. I designed an entire curriculum in the form of a 'cultural
equation' that requires students to 'solve for X with X equaling an unknown,
"x+y^5 = self". (D. Ciphers Language Migration: Explorations in Reading,
Writing and Critical Thinking by Jolivette Anderson published by She
Prophecy Entertainment).


    Because of illiteracy, the inability to read and write, many of the
people of the south, decendants of the American Slavery Culture that turned
into the Sharecropper Culture that turned into me, (Black Southerners) had
to accept another persons interpretation of the Bible (their only written
spiritual policy) that often left them submissive and passive when it was
time to liberate themselves from oppression. The glowing example being
Jesus, symbolically a white, blue- eyed Jesus.  Never did the question arise
regarding seeing God or Jesus in ourselves and if it did then we did our
very best to immulate white people because Jesus was always depicted as a
white man. Those that used the Bible to rebel did it in the name of
Non-violent social change by using churches to organize around gaining
Citizens (Civil) Rights. They changed the words of Spirituals to reflect a
struggle against a government that was Pilot and Judas ie Hell on a Black
man and woman.
    The inability to read and write was a problem when conducting business
of any kind so many Blacks who were illiterate would have to "make their
mark" on documents.  I know this because I still have a relative who can not
read and write very well and an uncle who learned how to write his name
shortly before he died.  The mark made was sometimes an X. J W Joseph
responded to one of my inquiries in the following way:
         Cross marks were used in the several African cultures, most notably
by the
         Kongo who had a cross mark within a circle known as the Bakongo
Cosmogram
         and the Yoruba, who had a cross mark that to them symbolized the
cross roads.
         It was used in African-American culture in the New World as
         recorded   by
         interviews
         conducted during the WPA in the 1930s.  The meanings of the cross
mark to African-
         Americans in the southeast appear to be varied - some regarded  it
as representing a
         cross roads and used the mark in ceremonies where a decision had to
be made, others
         considered it a mark of evil.  Others may have used the mark as a
decorative treatment
         without it having meaning and to some it represented their African
ancestry.  The
         Yoruba thought of the mark as a crossroads is similar to your
notion of the unknown,
         as a crossroads implies making a decision about choices whose
outcomes are unknown

    Being the daughter of two distinct kinds of Black Southerners, I see the
tragedy of both existences. My mother came from a Sharecropping Family, a
family that worked the land for white folks.  My father came from a Land
Owners Family, a Black family that owned 309 acres in Keithville, LA for 120
years as of 2004.  The tragedy I see in both of these situations is Poverty.
  While both of my parents had excellect work ethics.  (You work an honest
job, earn your pay and get what you need and then get what you want if there
is something left over after your needs are met.) Their work ethic came out
of the NEED to work the land to live and to escape the death grip of being
black and poor in rural Louisiana between the 1930s and the 1970s. They
BEARED THE CROSS (the responsibility and the consequences of the decisions
they made) and stayed together to raise 5 children in a two bedroom house.
Their preparation for the afterlife began and ended at the Cross(Jesus the
Christ) and their day to day struggles were at the Crossroads. (Esu/Elegba).
Both the Cross and the CrossRoads have deep penetrating meanings

AT THE CROSSROADS
    As I left the cemetary, the resting place of my fathers remains, I made
an X with my foot in the mud.  I remembered my grandmother doing this and
when I asked her what it meant she would not tell me. Perhaps it was
something passed down to her and she did not know what it meant anymore.
Perhaps, it was her unknown leftovers of Esu/Elegba given to her by her
mother and father. Whatever it was, she passed it down to me, and I respect
it and take ownership of it as a part of my own.
    If the cross is a place where we can 'first see the light' then we can
not ignore Esu/Elegba.  For, what is it that happens when we are forced to
make a decision? The Light is but a smybol of knowledge, wisdom and
understanding.  Once we decide to go in a particular direction, to take a
certain road or path, that road opens and we receive the things we need to
move forward. Right and Wrong are relative to many people but based on what
you think about God and the Afterlife, you choose a Right or Wrong path.

    While living in Mississippi, I would often stumble across even the most
casual conversations about the Blues.  It seems that everybody knows or has
at least heard of the story of Robert Johnson allegedly "selling his soul to
the devil at the Crossroads of Highway 61 and Highway 49 in the Mississippi
Delta.  If you travel to the Delta and stay a while, you will feel, know and
understand why Mr. Johnson may have been tempted to sell something, anything
to escape the poverty of the Mississippi Delta, but was it the Devil or
people's misinterpretation of Esu/Elegba, the guardian of the CrossRoads
There is nothing evil about Esu/Elegba. He is but the guardian and the
tester.  He presents you with options and based on what you know and what
you don't know, you make the decision regarding which way to go.  Bad
desicison equal bad consequences.
  If Mr. Johnson's choices were Blues and
Gospel and he chose the Blues then based on the hardcore Christianity
practiced in the Deep South, he chose the Devil over Jesus and he suffered
the consequences.  The smoky juke joints filled with truth music that
resonates the daily struggles and loves of a people living in poverty is
it's own form of resistance to oppression. Whether oppression is an
intangible system that controls the lives of Black and poor people from a
distance like a juggernaut or whether we put a face and race to it (the
white man), the road of resistance will be defined as the Devil's Way by
many. While the road of least resistance leads us to the holy cross, the
crucifix and the life and death of Jesus Christ. I love the idea of
'forgiving', it makes life so much easier, but the practice of forgiveness
chokes me up every single time.  In short, it takes much work for me to
forgive those that knowingly do evil to me, but because of Ifa, I am not so
quick to seek revenge. The circle of life has shown me that all that I do
comes back to me. Revenge is unnecessary because each action done to another
is also simultaneously done to the doer. (What goes around come around - "Do
unto others and you would have them do unto you") The Holy Bible

    Jesus the revolutionary and enforcer was never the topic of conversation
in the church I grew up in down in Louisiana. Nor was Jesus the organizer,
activist, and intellectual a theme of Sunday School or Bible Study.  Jesus
the mild meek man who was the Sacrificed Lamb of God (oops, did I say
Sacrifice and Lamb while talking about Jesus? Is this Christianity or West
African Religion?)  You the reader should read research and decide for
yourself.  Beyond the cross (crucifix) there is the promise of everlasting
life, being one with God, and living in the spirit world but only through
Jesus Christ. Jesus aids millions daily from the spirit world because "He
lives", but we stop believing in the spirit assisting us in our daily lives
if it is anyone's spirit other than Jesus.  If it is other than, it is
considered evil. This is the legacy of the Cross.
    Esu/Elegba the trickster and evil doer is defined as such to the closed
minded or to those whose intentions are to do wrong but not want to deal
with the consequences of doing wrong. Esu/Elegba guides us to the afterlife
through the decisions we make in this life based on the roads we take or the
roads we make to get to our destinations. This is the reality of the
Crossroads.

    Finally, an interesting thing happened the day I left Louisiana to drive
16 hours back to Indiana.  I was on my way to the neighborhood fish shack
when I saw Cousin Sweet taking his daily walk. Cousin Sweet is my cousin
becasue my grandfathers brother had an 'outside child.' His eyes are big and
droopy like my Daddy's and you can tell we share the same blood.  He is 87
years old and lives a street over from the street I grew up on, Ledbetter
Street
.
    "Hey Cousin Sweet", I yell. As he makes his way to my car walking
slowly, "Do you know who I am?"
    "I know your voice," he says.
    "I am Jethro's daughter, Jolivette. You know we buried Daddy the other
day.  Have you been round there to see Mama yet?"
    "That's were I'm heading right now.  I'm just out here walking this
train" he said.  "Do you know what I mean when I say that?
    "You out here getting your walk right?" I said.
    "Naw", he said. " I got this train in my side"
    "Is it something the doctor put in", I asked.
    "Naw, you ever here of HooDoo? VooDoo?"
    "
Yeah, Yes Sir, I heard of it," I said holding back the peaceful smile
of having hit paydirt. I say hitting paydirt because knowing that there are
African Practices in you family, church or community is different from
actually finding an elder who believes in HooDoo and is not afraid to talk
about it.
    "Well, that's what this is, I been HooDooed for life."
    "Tell me more about how you were HooDooed, " I asked respectfully.
    "Naw" he said "You don't want to know about this.  People say they ya
friend but they not and they put stuff on ya.  The fella I use to go to to
help me he died.  They tell me there is a fella out in Stonewall that can do
a little something."
    "Well, do you need me to help you, I know a few people that may be able
to help you, I offered.
    "Naw, you got to be experienced in these things, but I thank you." 
"Naw, I got to live with this til I die."
    I wanted to stay and chat with him some more, but I had to 'hit the
Road'.  During the drive, I was saddened that there was no balance revealed
to me about how much HooDoo and VooDoo have helped people, especially during
my parents and grandparents time.  I am sure the home remedies made by
neighborhood doctors, midwives and Spirit Women saved lives. I must simply
continue to find voices unafraid to tell the truth of their time and how
they survived.

(c) 2004 by Jolivette Anderson
thepoetwarrior@hotmail.com or
thepoetwarrior@insightbb.com.
All Rights Reserved. Original submissions to thehoodooway@topica.com,
kalamu@aol.com, globalafricanpresence@yahoogroups.com,
1725Topp@bellsouth.net, JW Joseph, Dr. Jerry Ward and She Prophecy Archives
for posting on listserves for the purpose of dialogue.
All others: Reprint
by permission only.

Jolivette Anderson is a poet, organizer and activist from the Deep South
(Louisiana and Mississippi).  She is author of Past Lives, Still Living:
Traveling the Pathways to Freedom, At the End of a Rope, In Mississippi and
the D. Ciphers Curriculum.  She currently lives in Lafayette, Indiana. She
can be reached at
thepoetwarrior@hotmail.com or
thepoetwarrior@insightbb.com.