James Baldwin in known to be one of the greatest writers and intellectuals of the 20th century. His writings and critiques on race in America have been established in a class of their own. His language brings eloquence and grace to an otherwise grotesque and deplorable situation. The recent documentary I Am Not Your Negro tries to bring this contrasting relationship to the big screen. I Am Not Your Negro already proves to be a provocative title and certainly the film itself was able to match the intensity of its name.
Well, here we are. Serendipitous opportunities notwithstanding, I have exactly seven columns remaining. And while the international state of affairs has certainly given me plenty of material for the next six, I will need more time to digest and dissect all of that before writing. In the meantime, I find myself reflecting on my time at home in Atlanta. Those close to me know that I could easily write a book about all the thoughts, observations and emotions that result from my infrequent excursions there, but my most recent return found me thinking a lot about language.