Perplexing Alice Walker's People

-The babe in the hood

As anyone who regularly reads my blog will know, Alice Walker’s writing has had a profound impact on my literary life…nah, scratch ‘literary’ – Alice Walker’s writing has had a profound impact on my life. Without a mother or father of my own, I take my chosen sources of wisdom, very, very seriously.

I started this blog in October and didn’t think twice about subscribing to Alice Walker’s blog. On reading it, there were a couple of posts that particularly touched me or taught me something. I wanted to comment…I wanted to, but I was afraid to – in my experience, one should never get too close to those you admire – they often have a nasty habit of being very NORMAL. However, her blog states: “Alice Walker's Blog is managed by an administrator and not by Alice Walker personally.” Perfect! - So I left a comment or two…and it was fine…my concern was allayed.

Then, around late November time, she wrote a post about the death of one of her pet chickens; a chicken called Babe. It was in an instalment of the Chicken Chronicles, a column she regularly writes about her pet hens. Being a city dweller that plans on living in the country one day (and keeping chickens too) I quite enjoyed the posts, actually, I really liked ‘em. In any event, I felt bad that she had lost one of her birds, so, I submitted a comment, something like – and this is from memory not verbatim – this:

Awe no! Poor Babe…and to think, she’d made it past the Thanksgiving festivities too! Boo to Death…

   One short sleep past, we wake eternally,

   And Death shall be no more: Death, thou shalt die!

   – John Donne

Admittedly, I’ve never quoted poetry to a dead chicken before, especially not the venerable John Donne! But, it was one of Alice Walker’s chickens – it changes things. It changed things for me – it was more than just a poultry gesture (see what I did there…hehehe).

I posted the comment about six weeks ago, and it would appear her moderators might have disallowed it, as to date, the comment has not been published.

I've thought about it…a lot…as you do when it comes to your role models. And I’ve decided the likelihood is, there is probably a perfectly innocent eggs-planation (sorry, I can’t help it I’m half English) as to why it never appeared…p'haps it got lost in the cyber-post. I REALLY REALLY hope so, cos from my point of view, a role model without a sense of humour is about as much use to me as handsome man without loyalty or a stranger without kindness.

I won’t lie to you, it did fuck-up my Alice Walker buzz a bit. Of course, I will go back to reading her stuff, I’m pretty sure it was an over zealous “moderator.” Besides, most of us, during our lifetimes, have enjoyed the talents of people we don’t really like (how else could you explain the success of Russell Brand, Mel Gibson or Amy Winehouse?).

But it did gall me a bit, especially, if it was the quip about the chicken making it past Thanksgiving that offended. Cos yes, while I am one of them fish eating vegetarians, she – while understandably upset at the loss of one of her hens – is one of them chicken-eating pet-chicken-keepers!


Cock-a-doodle-dooooo…

- Cheyelle Omar
(Alice Walker fan, Chicken-lover, Joker & Pescetarian)



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