Malcolm

Sometimes when I'm in a city and traipsing around historical sites I feel like someone else (a parent) has organized it and I find myself most interested in the street vendor out front or the pencils in the gift shop; something I can amuse myself with until everyone has had enough and we can go.

There is good stuff on the periphery though and I found this to be the case at The Malcolm X and Dr. Betty Shabazz Memorial & Educational Center in Harlem. In the foyer, on your way past the public toilets to the elevator that takes you upstairs to the exhibition I found the modest audio recordings of snippets of Malcolm X's and Betty Shabazz's life.

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The one I liked the best was the voice of one of their six daughters who spoke about how much admiration she had for her mother who worked and put her and her sisters through college after their father's assassination.

She also said her mother always baked a plate of oatmeal cookies for her father when he came home at night. He would take them into the study and share them with his girls  while they watched television and discussed current events. After he died Betty continued to bake the cookies and would leave them outside the study door, as before, but broken in half now, so the girls could continue the ritual and still feel like their father was there in spirit.