Common use of Xxxxxx Xxxx Clause in Contracts

Xxxxxx Xxxx. So anyway, he took me to New York, and I heard different accents. It was the first time I’d heard people not speaking in a Southern accent. We’d got the television, I think, maybe when I was about six, and so that was a time when I began to hear—and mostly you heard white people. In New York you could hear black people speaking differently. And so, at that age, I changed my accent. It’s pretty much the same one I have now, which is not the way I was brought up. It’s not the way anybody else in my family talks. My accent is a little bit more relaxed than it used to be. I was extremely hypercorrect. I would not say a word in which you didn’t hear the ending, and [enunciating with exaggerated precision] each syllable. That’s, I think, a mark of being self-didactic. I’m teaching myself how to talk. But at that point, people wanted me to be a spokesperson. My elementary school would put me forward. “You’re the one who gets to come to talk to the PTA. If we have a program for Black History Month,” which was February, of course, “you get to do the major speeches.” From a relatively early age, I was chosen for these things. I was chosen primarily, I think, because I could speak in this way that wasn’t a Southern drawl, but also because I was smart and because I was attractive. And that wasn’t unusual for my family. I had three siblings, and they [mostly] were toward the top of their classes and very articulate. (Except my sister wasn’t.) We’ve had very different patterns. My older brother was killed when he was nineteen. He was shot by a policeman. He had left home a couple of times. He left home to join the Air Force. My family had found him there and told them that he was underage, and he had come back home and tried to go back to high school, unhappily. Left again. He was in New York, on the sidewalk with a friend. A policeman said that he had fired a warning shot and unfortunately killed my brother with a bullet in the back of his neck. That doesn’t seem to me to be a warning shot. He also said that my brother and the friend he was with, who escaped, had a gun. But we never saw that gun either.

Xxxxxx Xxxx. There are a couple of things about school. This is a story that’s been told to me, about me and school: Around this time that I started talking differently, they did IQ tests, and my IQ was the highest or second-highest in the school. It wasn’t that high. But, you know, poor kids, not a lot of resources. So anywayeverybody started putting resources into me. And it was said that I wasn’t working hard enough, he took and not living up to my potential, according to this little test. By the time I got into eighth grade, I do remember there was a student brought into school, and they said, “Ah! She will be a good challenge for Xxxxxxx.” It turns out that she was. She ended up being valedictorian and I ended up being salutatorian. (laughs) But it was, “We recognize this little girl, and she’s got some talent, and we want to push her a little bit harder.” When I was in high school, I used to substitute as a teacher for my peers. Fortunately, they liked me. The stuff that was given to me (laughs) would not have endeared me to New Yorksome other kids, but in fact, I liked people, and they seemed to like me, and it was kind of fun, going and teaching English and geography—and, not so much, math—to other people. By the time I was in high school, we were on tracking. I was in the “A” group. It was 10-A, and then 10-1, -2, -3. From that point on, I was always with this same group of people, and we got tons of resources. We studied for a year for the SATs, and we blew them away. They had never seen any black people do that well. There’s a little newspaper article about me winning twenty scholarships. (laughs) They had a whole newspaper article on that in Virginia. It’s funny, because my daughter just saw it for the first time. I think all these things from my history are [things] that everybody in my family knows, but I guess I maybe don’t talk about them so much. Those schools [where I got the scholarships] were all historically black schools. There was one that I was really interested in going to. It was an all-girls school: Xxxxxxx College, in North Carolina. But my geometry teacher had gone to Michigan State, and she thought that that was a good place for me to go, and I heard different accentswas starting off to be a math major. It So I went to Michigan State. I went with this friend of mine, the one who was the first time valedictorian. We went on a weekend visit when we were still in high school. (I’ll tell you a little bit more about that one.) I thought, these people that I trust think that this is a good place for me, so I will go there. My life would have been so different if I’d heard people gone to Xxxxxxx College. I sometimes think about that. I am very sure that I would have been the middle-class black person that I think is so narrow, the person who goes to church, and has a sense of membership in these clubs and service there. It’s not speaking that I dislike those people. But I know that the choices that I’ve made [have been different]. I think that if I had been in a Southern accentcommunity where that was the goal, that would have been me. WeI do have this kind of different vision. Maybe I should write a story about that: who would I be if I had lived the life that I had originally thought, as opposed to being challenged in the ways that I was at the university? From Mathematics to Anthropology I have one more thing to say about high school and schools, before I go on to talk about the university. I had a friend, recently, who’s a mathematician, ask me why I had majored in math—what was it about math that was exciting to me. And I always start off, as I did this conversation, with, “I’m interested in numbers.” Some of the numbers have to do with trying to find things to talk to my father about. First of all, we’d got be tested, sitting at the televisiontable, about adding up columns. There’s my grandfather and his machine, and there’s my father with his baseball statistics. You just had to know numbers. That was one piece of it. But the other part of math, I think, maybe was being able to find solutions, knowing that there are solutions, and a kind of a beauty that is an aspect of geometric relationships, but also a beauty that’s an aspect of the symmetry that comes with numbers and equations. And moving from math—which I did pretty early on, when I was about six, and so that in college—moving from math was a time when I began moving to hear—and mostly you heard white people. In New York you could hear black people speaking differently. And so, at that age, I changed my accent. It’s pretty much the same one I have now, which is not the way I was brought up. It’s not the way anybody else in my family talks. My accent is a little bit more relaxed than it used to be. I was extremely hypercorrect. I would not say a word in which you didn’t hear the ending, and [enunciating with exaggerated precision] each syllable. That’s, I think, a mark of being self-didactic. I’m teaching myself how to talk. But at that point, people wanted me to be a spokesperson. My elementary school would put me forward. “You’re the one who gets to come to talk to the PTA. If we have a program for Black History Month,” which was February, of course, “you get to do the major speechesuncertainty.” From a relatively early age, I was chosen for these things. I was chosen primarily, I think, because I could speak in this way that wasn’t a Southern drawl, but also because I was smart and because I was attractive. And that wasn’t unusual for my family. I had three siblings, and they [mostly] were toward the top of their classes and very articulate. (Except my sister wasn’t.) We’ve had very different patterns. My older brother was killed when he was nineteen. He was shot by a policeman. He had left home a couple of times. He left home to join the Air Force. My family had found him there and told them that he was underage, and he had come back home and tried to go back to high school, unhappily. Left again. He was in New York, on the sidewalk with a friend. A policeman said that he had fired a warning shot and unfortunately killed my brother with a bullet in the back of his neck. That doesn’t seem to me to be a warning shot. He also said that my brother and the friend he was with, who escaped, had a gun. But we never saw that gun either.

Xxxxxx Xxxx. Yeah. I think that’s what it was. Now, when we think about how language and accents have changed, we talk a lot about television and radio as being a kind of modifier or a neutralizer somehow, in the US. And it is the case that I must have been influenced by those. But, see, the radio was black radio. We didn’t listen to any white people, and if we did, the music they were playing, we would laugh at. But the radio was actually black people speaking in ways that just—I didn’t want to sound that way, particularly once I heard the way these other people talked. So anyway, he took me I began to New Yorkchange. There’s another girlfriend of mine who also changed the way she talked, and I heard different accentsdon’t like it. It was the first time I’d heard people not speaking in a Southern accentShe ended up being an elementary school teacher. We’d got the television, But it is so hyper- correct and—false. I think, maybe when I was about six, and so that was a time when I began to hear—and mostly you heard white people. In New York you could hear black people speaking differently. And so, at that age, I changed my accent. It’s pretty much the same one started this particular accent I have now, which is not the way now really a long time ago. I’ve made it my own and it’s softened. I was brought up. It’s not the way anybody else in my family talks. My accent is have a little bit more relaxed Southern in it than it I used to behave. But, see, I was extremely hypercorrect. I would not say a word in which you get mad at people like Xxxxx, when he says “gonna.” Why is he saying “gonna”? He didn’t hear the endinggrow up saying “gonna”! “I’m gonna do this,” and, “we’re gonna make this—” Where is this coming from? So we can get to “Black Is, Black Ain’t” from that. Xxxxxx Xxxxx suggests to us that black is big, and [enunciating varied. He starts this by looking at New Orleans. It’s a really fascinating place to look. Because when we think about New Orleans we think about Creole, but New Orleans has all these different layers, some of it having to do with exaggerated precision] each syllableskin color. That’sSome of it has to do with language, I thinkand all these other things. But what he wants us to get at is, there is not a mark single marker of blackness. We’ve got so much about marking blackness by a particular kind of way of being self-didacticin the ghetto. I’m teaching myself how It seems to talk. But at that pointme Xxxxx is (laughs) doing a little bit of that, people wanted me because he’s got to be a spokesperson“black.” I don’t think I ever had any problems with presenting myself as black, but he has to present himself as black, so he starts letting some of his diction go. My elementary school would put me forward. And maybe because they call him “You’re the one who gets to come to talk to the PTA. If we have a program for Black History Monthprofessor,” which was Februarymaybe that also softens him, so that he can be like Xxxxxx Xxxx or somebody [else] who has little control of course, “you get to do the major speeches.” From a relatively early age, I was chosen for these things. I was chosen primarily, I think, because I could speak in this way that wasn’t a Southern drawl, but also because I was smart and because I was attractive. And that wasn’t unusual for my family. I had three siblings, and they [mostly] were toward the top of their classes and very articulateEnglish language. (Except my sister wasn’tlaughs) Maybe that’s part of what’s going on.) We’ve had very different patterns. My older brother was killed when he was nineteen. He was shot by a policeman. He had left home a couple of times. He left home to join the Air Force. My family had found him there and told them that he was underage, and he had come back home and tried to go back to high school, unhappily. Left again. He was in New York, on the sidewalk with a friend. A policeman said that he had fired a warning shot and unfortunately killed my brother with a bullet in the back of his neck. That doesn’t seem to me to be a warning shot. He also said that my brother and the friend he was with, who escaped, had a gun. But we never saw that gun either.

Xxxxxx Xxxx. So anywayExactly. My mother wanted to go to school. She tells the story of, he took me to New Yorkwhen she was—must have been, fourteen—she was at the pump. My grandmother’s house did not have running water, and I heard different accentsit had chickens in the yard—those chickens were very mean—and it had an outhouse. It She was at the first time I’d heard people not speaking pump getting some water, and a boy came by to talk to her, and she was laughing and talking to the boy. She went in the house. Her mother says, “You’re talking to boys? No more school.” That was it. She started working as a maid in a Southern accenthotel. We’d got The stories that she tells about that have to do more with sexual advances of the televisionmen who came to the hotel, I think, maybe when I was about six, and so as opposed to the bosses. But she felt that was a time when I began to hearreally difficult job. She also felt that being a maid in a house was a difficult job—and mostly you heard white people. In New York you could hear black people speaking differently. And so, at that age, I changed my accent. It’s pretty much the same one I have now, which is not the way I was brought up. It’s not the way anybody else in my family talks. My accent is a little bit more relaxed than it used to be. I was extremely hypercorrect. I would not say a word in which you didn’t hear the ending, and [enunciating with exaggerated precision] each syllable. That’s, I think, a mark of being self-didactic. I’m teaching myself how to talk. But at that point, people wanted but she raised me to be a spokespersonmaid. I talked about this once in a Xxxxxx [College] speech. If I were sitting at the table peeling potatoes, she’d say, “Stand up to peel potatoes. If you’re working for the white lady, she’s going to think you’re lazy, sitting and peeling potatoes.” So I’m learning my domestic duties at home, at the same time as this kind of expectation that I might go in to do this kind of work. She certainly didn’t want me to do it, but I did end up doing it. I don’t actually know why I decided to become a live- in maid, but I was a live-in maid between my sophomore and junior years. Rabkin: Of high school? Xxxxxx Xxxx: No, of college. The first year, [between] my freshman and sophomore year, I worked in New York City in an office. That was a job given to me through corruption in New York City. My elementary school would put me forward. cousin, somebody my mother’s age, was a chauffeur for a commissioner in New York City, and he said, “You’re the one I’ve got a cousin who gets to come to talk to the PTA. If we have needs a program for Black History Monthjob,” which was February, of courseand so the commissioner said, “you get Okay, she can go work in this office.” I didn’t have any office skills. I was pretty good at the alphabet, so I did a lot of filing. I thought, oh, I don’t think I want to do this again. I had a scholarship to go to college from a philanthropic group in Virginia, and they paid almost everything I needed to go to college. One of the major speeches.” From members of that group knew somebody in New Jersey who usually would take black college students from the South to work as maids. Through that person, I went to work as a relatively early agemaid in New Jersey. What was difficult about that experience was partly the lack of privacy, and being on call at any time. I had two children in the family, a wife, and a husband. I don’t know if I saw him twice in the summer that I was there. I don’t remember much about him. But if the kids had any problems, or they wanted something to eat late at night, or any of those things, I was chosen there to take care of it. But here’s the thing that struck me the most. That was the summer of the March on Washington. I had some friends that I’d made in New Jersey and they were going down to the march. I asked for the day off to go down for the march, and I was denied that possibility of going down to the march. I stayed, and I continued my duties. And because we’re now celebrating the anniversary of that march, I keep thinking, why didn’t I leave? It was toward the end of summer. I didn’t really need [the job anymore]. I didn’t have any loyalty toward these people. But I guess I had something that was a kind of work ethic, that said that if you’ve entered into this contract, then you finish it up, and then you don’t do it anymore. So I did do that. [There was] great surveillance of all my activities: how I’m working in the kitchen; where I’m going; who are my friends; what am I reading. I think, to some extent, both the group of people who had gotten together for the scholarships and the person who hired me, and probably other people in that world, thought they were grooming these raw black girls from the South, and they were maybe turning us into good homemakers. I don’t know what they thought they were doing, but it was an awful lot of surveillance. The next summer I was on my own. Actually, the next summer is the summer before I got married. I got married in the beginning of my senior year. And I decided I’d stay at home, because I’d never really lived in this house my parents were in, and I’d been away for most of the time. I started looking for jobs. I got a job as a mother’s helper. I felt, I’ve got three years of college now! I’ve worked as a maid already! I’ve worked in an office! But I just couldn’t find anything other than mother’s helper. I babysat some kids, not very far away, so I could walk there. Then on Saturdays I went to some other houses to clean the oven, iron the clothes, do whatever housework needed to be done. That really shocked me. I just really thought that—I could sell shoes; I mean I thought I could do a whole host of other little things. I was chosen primarily, I think, because I could speak in this way didn’t think that wasn’t a Southern drawlI’d be able to go off and get an office job, but also because I was smart and because didn’t think that I was attractive. And that wasn’t unusual for my family. I had three siblingswould, and they [mostly] were toward the top of their classes and very articulate. (Except my sister wasn’tonce again, be working as a maid.) We’ve had very different patterns. My older brother was killed when he was nineteen. He was shot by a policeman. He had left home a couple of times. He left home to join the Air Force. My family had found him there and told them that he was underage, and he had come back home and tried to go back to high school, unhappily. Left again. He was in New York, on the sidewalk with a friend. A policeman said that he had fired a warning shot and unfortunately killed my brother with a bullet in the back of his neck. That doesn’t seem to me to be a warning shot. He also said that my brother and the friend he was with, who escaped, had a gun. But we never saw that gun either.