Folk Beliefs

African American Folk Beliefs on Pregnancy in Baldwin County


There are sometimes many mixed emotions about pregnancy. These range from the fear of bringing a new life into such a cruel world or maybe just the anxiety of being responsible for the well-being of another life. While there are many myths, and legends if you will that surround the natural phenomenon of pregnancy; there are some beliefs that seem to transcend and exceed those barriers that are otherwise created and destroyed many times by constant changes in time and space. Being a African-American woman and many times not understanding the hidden innuendos of the legends of pregnancy that seemed to be must-dos among African-American women especially, as I began to look deeper I began to fall into a pool of legend where the passing of these legends signified a understood code of what was considered “lady-like” among African-American women. Woman stayed in the house at least six weeks after giving birth, your body was not submerged with water for several weeks after birth, and you were solely responsible for the care of your baby for the first couple of month. This would ensure the babies health and mainly make sure that menstruating women did not hold your baby, this was forbidden and was said to cause painful cramps for the baby. Just as many of their ancestors, black women were reminded on a constant basis of there inferiority to others, whether it be whites or there submission to the black man and the lore that surrounded our bodies.

For more than 400 years the body, mind, and soul of the black woman has been deprived, tortured, and violated to the point of death. This has breed attitudes that are still evident among them today. Through passing on these legends, seeds of heartaches, injustices, and many times unchangeable circumstances the past is sometimes avoided and denied to a certain degree. Thus, justification of legends that put limitations on African American women were embraced with ease, creating a basis for those things that were many times degrading, as well as, sexist.
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Introduction
In an attempt to showcase the simplicit; yet colorful, folk beliefs of African-American women, who bore children during the early nineteenth century, I have presented, transcribed and attempted to analyze for the reader the personal epics of a voice, not heard by “outsiders”. Although I am an African-American woman, who had the pleasure of growing up in the same small town where all four of my informants still reside, an insight to the information session about pregnancy of a generation, that was not my own, was considered a sort of right of passage.

I present to you, the reader, the testimony of four African-American women born between the years: 1917 and 1928, allowing you a semi-permeable passage to some of the many beliefs and sort of ritual believed and practiced during their pregnancies. Hoping that you, the reader, will be somewhat enlightened; it is but realistic to note that in its complexity and entirety, one can obtain only through experience.



PART I: THE INFORMANT

Although the encounter with my first informant was not an unusual one, the space and place that seemed to once connect us seemed somewhat violated and uncomfortable.
It was a normal scene, for a Wednesday in the shop. It was the day senior citizens got their, as many of them say, their well-deserved discount. As one elderly woman eased the door open, sliding her feet, others began to follow the same pattern, kind of primping their lips with a partial smile, waiting for one of us “girls” to respectfully speak first. This was a sort of understood ritual. One that best not be disturbed, lest you would face the sure possibility of public correction. With this, one of the low, raspy voices of the prestigious few may exclaim’ “Well, how yall doin, I didn’t sleep with you last night”.
A distinguished “Yes Mam” would be the only acceptable response. As the short parade of elders ended with the chiming of the bells hanging from the door, with bags and purses clutched tightly, they all began to be drawn to one corner of the waiting area, careful not to leave any room for walk-ins to invade their temporary territory. After being seated, there were talks of church programs, local deaths, aches and pains, and of course, the usual gossip.

As I escorted the first of them to the shampoo bowl, I began to tell the others of an assignment I had to do for school. Almost immediately, a few of them became mute. The more I pressed for an insight to sayings and olden beliefs surrounding pregnancy, the more the women refused me access. Almost dazed, I put away my note-taking materials. “Access Denied”! After the crowd died down and my last client, Mrs., born March 3, 1928 in Hurricane, Al, sat in the chair, the words came hesitantly, “Now baby, what was that you wanted to know about women in the delicate state?” I became a sponge; ready to absorb all that was earlier denied me. See, Mrs. is very particular about when and where she talks and especially what she talks about.

Mrs. Olivia Williams is a lifelong resident of Bromley, Alabama. She was born in 1919 and is 85 years old. Even though she has been diagnosed with cancer, she continues to be in good spirit and shows no outer ward signs of wear and tear from this infirmity. Being that she is one of those people that do not mind having an audience; I knew that she would be a great informant. Mrs. Olivia, being the high-spirited woman she always is, did not need any conditioning. She always welcomed visitors and could not wait to tell it “just like it was”. Being that Mrs. Olivia had known me since birth, I was always recognizable to her. Whereas, sometimes her daughter would say that she has had one of those spells, spells where she could not remember things about herself or anyone else. I have never seen her in this state, wouldn’t say that I would ever want to. She is always so full of laughter, smiles, and warmness you can feel as soon as she opens the door. I knew whatever she had to say would be rich.
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Christine Williams, 80 years old, a very sophisticated lady, is always the first person at the church and the last one to leave. She cleans the church every week and makes sure flowers are fresh and all other things are in tact. She can be seen on the front pew (dressed to kill), matching handbag, shoes, and accessories. She never wears a headpiece, with the exception of funerals, so that her beautiful silver- tinted pin-up, always designed the same, will show. Her raspy, yet melodic, whine echoes throughout the church as she douses herself song-leader on any given Sunday. When service has ended, she is careful to secure all before the doors are closed. Contrarily, on weekday evenings, just before the sun trades places with the moon, this the time when the fish seem to bite the most, according to Mrs. Williams, (Boots, what everyone calls her) can be heard putt-putting down the back trails leading to one of the area fishing holes. Not being characteristic of a busy city, the atmosphere of Bromley allows for sounds to travel long distances throughout the community and remain distinctive and of recognizable quality. When people in the community hear the putting, someone will always say,
“There goes Boots goin’ fishin”. She says that fishing is her livelihood. Boots attends all the community affairs and I believe is capable of serving as one of my informants for this project.
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Mrs. Ruth Sledge was born January 4, 1926 at her home, where a midwife, Laura Singleton, her grandmother delivered her. She recalls that at an early age, when she was old enough to keep up with her grandmother, the midwife, she was allowed to come along. Being full-blooded Indian, Laura had knowledge of medicines that grew in the woods, which were passed down to her from her grandmother. Laura and a then, young Ruth hunted for certain herbs and heart-shaped leaves on vines, which insured endurance during the wrath of childbirth. Mrs. Sledge is my grandmother and Mrs. Laura Singleton is my great great-grandmother. As time passed, Mrs. Sledge bore 10 children, six of which were also delivered by midwifes. As things advanced, other pregnancies were cared for with a combination of learned rituals and those, which the doctor educated mothers about. Being that my grandmother has had many successful pregnancies and has helped to raise her grandchildren, as well as great grandchildren, she proved to be a great contributor to this project.
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All four informants share the common time and space, the early 1900s. Although their personal experiences are different, the elements of time and space are the “glue” that holds them together. These accountants defined a specific group, African-American women, revealing inspiration, milestones, and often unconscious fears. Inevitably, folk beliefs concerning pregnancy differentiate many African-American women from other people groups. These stories may not be all fact-based in basis, but they establish realities, and concerns of past generations and African-American women’s views on pregnancy. The ideology about African-American pregnancy is a collection of folk beliefs. Folk beliefs are beliefs that members of a folk group hold because of that group or traditional beliefs that are circulated by word of mouth or by observation and imitation and because of this circulation undergo change-causing variation. It is worth noting in ordinary human activity (such as pregnancy) one also finds in most bodies of living folklore one can find enough descriptions of economics, as well as ritual, to extract a description of one’s daily life. The matter presented here, is that the teller of a folk beliefs, in this particular situation four African-American women who bore children during the early 1900s, is like the architect who designs a house and the orator or author, largely reworking familiar material. Today, many African American women
use the experiences and lessons embedded in these types of folklore and home remedy to preserve a particular part of African-American women’s culture that is unique.