Meet Joe Thompson. You can read about him here. You can see a photo of the man here. And most importantly, if you are homeschooling you might go here.

I love being home because this community is so full of and so dedicated to art. Roots art. And artists honoring art. Up there is a painting I love. It hangs in our little local library. (The artist is Jude Lobe. I obviously completely stole that painting so I could post it here. Sorry Ms. Lobe. I'd buy it if it were for sale. It is about as tall as me. Its perfect, don't cha think?) But back to Joe Thompson. He is a living record - maybe the only living record - of music from the slaves. Not slaves he studied, slaves such as his grandfather. He knows his words, not Bob Dylan's, and not the words transcribed by white scholars. He knows the words, chords, and tempos he grew up with. Thankfully, he is currently mentoring the Carolina Chocolate Drops. They will carry forth.

I am not sure how to tell the children about horror and atrocity. I feel a duty to push these topics one day. Slavery. The Holocaust. Homophobia. George Bush (oh calm down, it is only a small jab.) And here, maybe five miles from my house, lives this man. Doesn't it seem right and proper to just go knock on his door and say, "Excuse me, Hey. I am a southern white girl (Lordy, as if THAT isn't the most obvious thing on earth) and I want my southern white babies, here, to understand the indignity and shame of racism. The best way I can think to introduce and eventually convey the totality of the thing is to steep them in the company of your dignified self. May we come in?"

My husband should be seriously worried right this minute, because he knows I am capable of actually doing something like this. Its what makes me southern. In the style of a good friend who just drove the fuck up to Deep Gap and knocked on Doc Watson's door. He wanted to say, "Hey." They had a wonderful afternoon, my friend drinking heavily, and all chatting the day away. Doc is obviously southern too. I digress.

I have one single problem with homeschool. Monoculture. Our living room is occupied by some seriously white people. It is difficult to go for a ride in the Great American Blender in here.