Draft

This information delves into the history and transformation of the song "Turkey in the Straw" and its connection to racist stereotypes, particularly around the watermelon. It explores how the watermelon became a symbol of resistance for African Americans, its cultivation during slavery, and its association with racist beliefs post-emancipation. The narrative touches on the impact of the fruit on African American culture and the perpetuation of harmful stereotypes through pop culture and legislation. Do you recognize this song? For me, it evokes a humid summer day in New York City. I can hear high school boys playing basketball. I can see fire hydrants gushing buckets of water as young children jump and laugh at the magic released by cast-iron waterfalls. Yes, this is the song of summer. Also known to many people as the Ice Cream Truck Song. But did you know that this song was a cover? For some, they'll recognize it as an instrumental to this song. Oh, I had a girl and she was good, but one of her legs was made of wood. Her hair was false and her teeth was too, and there wasn't much for me to do. That was Turkey in the Straw, published, performed, and popularized as a traditional American folk song in the early 19th century. Many people don't know that actually, Turkey in the Straw was rewritten. Here are the original lyrics. Old Zip Coon, he's a learned scholar. Old Zip Coon, he's a learned scholar. Old Zip Coon, he's a learned scholar. Sings possum up a gum tree and Cooney in a holler. Possum up a gum tree, Cooney on a stomp. Possum up a gum tree, Cooney on a stomp. Possum up a gum tree, Cooney on a stomp. In overbevel troubles, Zip Coon will jump. There's much speculation over where this song came from. The most early publication of this song was published in 1834 under the title Zip Coon. This was during the height of the minstrel show era. Minstrelsy was a form of entertainment created in the early 19th century with white actors wearing blackface to portray African American racial stereotypes. These stereotypes were created largely in part to confirm racist perceptions that black people were lazy, dim-witted, buffoonish, happy-go-lucky, and greedy. This early form of pop culture helped to shape the notion that black people did not deserve to be citizens because any attempt at citizenship would lead to a hilarious failure. In 1916, silent movie actor Harry C. Brown recorded this song, which has been named the most racist in the United States for its lyrics and song title. Keep in mind the original lyrics of this song will be shocking and offensive to some. Please be advised. Watermelon Watermelon When I learned this song was connected to my beloved childhood memories of summers growing up in New York, I was disgusted. This song was actually created to bring the listener to a much simpler time when sugarcane was high and cotton was king. When I discovered this connection, I started asking questions. Like, how is it possible that this song, seeped in overtly racist stereotypes, became the background noise of so many childhoods? Who gets to decide the meaning behind inanimate objects, and how does the meaning transform over time? Where did this stereotype about black people loving watermelon come from? Does this connect in any way to the watermelon imagery being reclaimed in activist faces? I'm Asha, and this is They Didn't Know We Were Seeds. Consider this work my attempt at answering these questions and more surrounding my research on the watermelon as an iconic and widely recognizable sign of resistance and an ugly signifier of oppression. But first we need to go back to the beginning. For over 150 years, the watermelon as we know it, red-fleshed and sweet, was thought to have originated in South Africa, named by a student of the famous taxonomist Carl Linnaeus. This unnamed student saw the melon in a market and dubbed it Citrullus lanatus. It was named to denote its closest relative, the tendrilous Citrullus acerosus, from South Africa near Nambia. However, in 2021, with genetic advancements, scientists discovered that the actual closest relative was Citrullus mucosopromus, a bitter and white-fleshed melon that was primarily used to carry water long distances, originating in North Africa and southern Sudan. While the exact year is unknown, the watermelon travels to America via European colonists and the transatlantic safe trade. The 400-year maritime system forcibly removed millions of African people from the continent as a form of free labor to develop plantation labor, creating the foundation of capitalism in the United States as it's known today. The watermelon first shows up in documents in the late 1500s and pretty much blends into the background of American history, that is until the enslaved population starts to use it in pretty expected and unexpected ways, thus forming a new meaning for the fruit. People of the African diaspora in America had been cultivating the watermelon for centuries, turning a bitter, bland makeshift canteen for carrying water long distances into a juicy and sweet red-fleshed delicacy. The watermelon was often used as a way to subvert the boundaries of slavery. Watermelons were grown in private lots of land to supplement the meager rations given by the enslaver, and for the most part the enslavers around them didn't mind this cultivation separate from the profits of the plantation. They saw it as a money-saving move, to find ways to reduce their investment and increasing the amount of profit. Plus, allowing these small plots kept a firmer hold on the narrative of slavery. This story helped to support the idea of painting enslavers as familial and benevolent, upholding how southern society ought to be. In some cases, watermelon was used by the enslaved to escape cruelty imposed by the overseer. Take, for example, the story of Israel Campbell. In his autobiography, Bond and Free, Campbell tells of an account when a great bit of creativity was needed in order to avoid punishment. He had only been able to gather 60 pounds of the 100 needed to make sure the day's quota was met. Campbell goes back into the field and enlists the help of a nearby watermelon patch. During the time I was picking, I selected a good-sized melon, put it in the basket, and went up to have it weighed. I was among the first who put their baskets in the scales that night, and the result was announced as 105 pounds for my day's work. The overseer praises Campbell, who left thinking, if only they knew how much less cotton there was. To their enslavers, enslaved people eating watermelon was a form of entertainment. There were accounts of enslavers and overseers using the watermelon as a form of humiliation. Lewis Brown tells of what was expected from children on the Arkansas plantation where he lived. The children were tasked with piling watermelon onto the porch. The overseer warned that if any of them dropped a watermelon, they would be made to eat the whole thing. Upon hearing this, Brown purposely drops the melon, happily accepting his fate. The overseer made good on his promise by forcing Brown to eat the entire thing, making him scrape the rind and drink the juice until he gets sick. Here, Brown has no other option but to play into the stereotype of punishing the sloppy pickaninny away from greed. Speaking of which, why the watermelon? What about this fruit upholds that kind of stereotype? Well, for one, the watermelon is a messy fruit to eat. If you decide to eat it with your hands, you are guaranteed to get messy. Juice will trail down your fingertips, and usually something is left behind, whether it's the sticky juice on your mouth or the evidence of left-behind seeds and rind. Watermelons are also fairly easy to grow, especially in the southern United States. It also requires that you stop what you're doing in order to eat it, helping make the connection to laziness and childishness. Finally, the watermelon is a communal fruit. Its size makes it enjoyable in groups and days of celebration. It's called forth an unwanted black public presence even in the selling of it, making some white citizens wary of who they purchase from, as to not be associated even with proximity. Now, we arrive at emancipation. All of a sudden, there was a new possibility of freedom. Suddenly, there was an opportunity for the formerly enslaved to make a living that would not be connected to their enslavers. Journalists and reporters like Karl Schurz in his 1865 report of Karl Schurz on the states of South Carolina, who wrote at length about freed people making a living out of the raising and sale of vegetables and watermelons. From 1866, America began feeling the effects of the 13th Amendment and radical reconstruction. This is where the watermelon stereotype begins to pick up steam. White southerners were well aware of the impact of the watermelon for African Americans. Pop culture was the weapon used as a framework on which the stereotype was built. As you've heard in the previous section of this work, songs were utilized to disparage watermelon farmers and sellers. So were different household trinkets and kitchen items like salt and pepper shakers of children grinning madly, holding an impossibly large slice of watermelon. There are trading cards, also known as kun cards, depicting images ranging from a young man smiling sheepishly at a broken watermelon, ruining what is thought to be a still life display, to a confused, cartoonish version of a red-lipped child wearing rags and holding a giant watermelon slice with words above their head asking, Is you my valentine? There were falsified accounts and stories made up to spin the narrative that white southerners should be fearful of watermelon thieves in newspapers. Like in 1866, a South Carolina newspaper listed watermelon thieving as a direct effect of emancipation and reconstruction. As if the narrative of stealing watermelon was directly related to freed people stealing from white southerners what was rightfully theirs, it was a wide-held belief among white southerners that giving freed people more rights meant a lessening of their own. In 1870, Tennessee proposed the Watermelon Bill that would make trespassing a felony. While the bill didn't pass, it did set a precedent for other legislation disenfranchising black Americans in ways that we still see the effects of in the present day. This period marked a very clear transition from general lament about emancipation and an attack on reconstruction to using this and other stereotypes to justify the extreme violence of the Redemption and Jim Crow era to re-legitimize the social orders of the American South. Throughout history, black Americans have taken the watermelon trope and subverted it. Like in 1996, The Watermelon Woman or 2000's Bamboozled. Also in artistic settings such as The Watermelon Couch, a concept created by Creative Shields in which he travels across the United States in search of black farmers selling black-seeded watermelon. There's also Terrell and Kiana Black Seed Brothers and Health Station located on 139th and Lenox in Harlem, New York City. The couple started by wanting to bring health and wellness to their neighborhood. Just like them, there are countless people doing hard work with the watermelon, contributing to their communities by stimulating the neighborhood economy and providing access to healthy food options. There are also other movements outside of black America doing the work to reclaim the watermelon as a symbol of resistance. A more contemporary example of this is with the pro-Palestine movement. In order to tell the story of the watermelon in relation to Palestine, we're going to need to rewind again. In 1882, Russian Jewish doctor Leon Pinsker wrote a pamphlet titled Auto-Emancipation as a way to pinpoint the origins of anti-Semitism and argue for Jewish self-rule and statehood. In this work, Dr. Pinsker solidifies himself as a leader of Zionism. Zionism is the nationalist movement to support a Jewish homeland through the colonization of Palestine. The thing is though, Palestine was already being occupied by Britain at the time. Despite that detail, this promise was pushed forth with the Balfour Declaration. This declaration was a letter from British Foreign Secretary Arthur Balfour to Lord Rothschild, the leader of the British Jewish community, during World War I in 1917. This letter would be the basis on which the Israeli state was formed nearly 31 years later. In 1936, Arab activists begin a general strike in the country against the partition of a two-state compromise between the Arab and Israeli governments in Palestine. The strike comes to a head with the Arab population revolting, demanding the end of British rule and its support of Zionism. 1941 through 1945 brings about massive tragedy. The fascist Nazi Party rises to power and thus begins the Holocaust or the mass murder of 6 million Jews. This genocide of the Jewish people throughout Europe expedited the urgent need for the founding of a Jewish state. In 1947, Britain declares that they will end the mandate and give Palestine over to assist with the founding of that Jewish state. The UN passes the Partition Plan for Palestine, resulting in the land being split with 56% of the land going towards the establishment of Israel. Arab leaders and government reject this plan, mostly because of the Arab population making up two-thirds of the majority and owning half the land. According to their leaders, this was not in line with the goal of self-determination and announce their intentions to take whatever measure necessary to prevent the plan from happening. In 1948, Britain officially withdraws from Palestine with Israel finally gaining statehood and invading the area. This invasion, known as the Nakba or the Catastrophe, marked the culmination of the Partition Plan with roughly 750,000 Palestinians being forcibly removed from their homes through violent militaristic means. Tensions in that area continue to grow, particularly between Israel and Egypt. This tension boiled over with Egypt threatening to close shipping in the Straits of Tehran for Israeli vessels. This caused Israel to declare war, reasoning that Egypt committed casus belli, or acted in a way that is used to provoke or justify war. In June of 1967, a six-day war begins between a coalition of Arab states and the Israeli government. This is how we get to the occupation of the West Bank, East Jerusalem, and the Gaza Strip. As a way for the Israeli state to assert dominance over these territories, the government makes it illegal to fly the Palestinian flag. Flying the flag or even putting the colors of the flag together could result in arrest. Activists begin to subvert this ban by carrying watermelon, which includes the same red, green, white, and black colors of the Palestinian flag. Fast forward to 1980, a group of artists in the Ramallah Gallery were showcasing their pieces when they were raided by Israeli soldiers. The soldiers destroyed any art piece that depicted anything relating to the Palestinian struggle or resistance. When one of the artists asked if we were to paint a flower with red, green, white, and black, then what? The soldiers reply, it will be confiscated. Even if it is a watermelon, it will be confiscated. This moment in history has been repeated countless times across the sources I researched as the spark of the watermelon becoming a major symbol in pro-Palestinian activist groups and art spaces as a symbol of support for the people. Israel lifted the flag ban in 1993 as part of the Oslo Accords. Currently, the Israeli government does not ban the Palestinian flag officially. However, the police do have authority to remove it when and where they see it as a public threat. The watermelon has shown up again in our contemporary era with the October 7th attacks by Hamas. Hamas is a Palestinian nationalist group committed to using political violence as a means to end Israeli occupation and restoring the Palestinian state. This attack led to over 2,000 Israeli deaths and numerous hostages being kidnapped. This was followed up with a series of bombing campaigns from the Israeli government resulting in the death and disappearance of over 80,000 Palestinian people, and that number is still rising at the time of this recording. Enter the watermelon emoji. Since 2023, there has been a renewed use of the watermelon to signal support of a free Palestine. All over social media, there are artists like Khaled Harani with his work, The Colors of the Palestinian Flag. This depicts one silkscreen watermelon in vibrant green, black, white, red against a white backdrop. Also, Sami Bukhari's Watermelon Slice in the Shape of Palestine. These artists are using the watermelon in their artwork as proof of Palestine's existence and the people's desire to be free from colonization. Social media websites like Instagram and X have taken to silently shadow banning certain words that denote support of the pro-Palestine movement. As a way to combat this, activists began using the watermelon emoji, subtly amplifying the message of support hidden in plain sight. The ways racism and oppression exist throughout time is a testament to the way fascism and colonial idealism calls for the erasure of certain people. In America, people of African descent have always bore the brunt of this reality. We are watching in real time how the ripple effects of the rise of fascism in early 20th century Europe is reverberating today with the genocide of the Palestinian people and the dismantling of its statehood. It is not lost upon me how African Americans and Palestinians are using the watermelon to resist oppression in seemingly unrelated fronts, but the cry for changing circumstances is the same. It's summer in New York City. I lift my roller bag to walk down the stairs to the tube train. I will transfer at Atlantic Avenue to catch the Q or the B or the D to Brighton Beach. I'm called here each year for a private Zoom team celebration, the date marking my official invitation to sit at the edge of the Atlantic and honor myself and those who came before me. Among the offerings is a watermelon, juicy and sweet, always dotted with hard black seeds I save to roast later. I kiss each one as a reminder of how much I love myself and anyone who sees the power and nourishment encased in this fruit. I give my thanks to myself, to all those who came before me, and those currently giving their lives to fighting a system that wants us desperately to be buried. I laugh because what the system doesn't know, and what me, my past, and future ancestors do, is that we are, was, and will always be, seeds.