A Photo of My Mother

in memory of Sandra Rubin (1912-1999)

 

a photo of my mother

during World War Two

a civilian inspector

employed by the Army

seated at a table with her team

at the Raritan Arsenal, New Jersey

 

my mother third from the right

a civilian inspector

my mother looks nice

a flower in her hair

Billie Holiday style

her real black hair shiny

black slacks when most wore skirts

stylish white blouse open toed shoes

an outfit likely borrowed

from her sister Giddye

my Aunt Gert

with whom my sister was staying

 

my mother was offered

a commission in the Navy

but she would not relinquish

custody of Jacquie

that was the deal breaker

 

my mother seated with her table

on three sides of the table

posed for the picture

instruments from their work

they all held uniformly

what must be the calipers

or the micrometer

about which I heard

many times in my childhood

 

also on the table

conical items a shell

a mortar some awful thing

when you think about it

 

the story my mother liked to tell

how it was the inspectors

who solved the problem

of the helmut straps

that broke the necks

of several G.I.s

in the percussion

of an explosion

was it the women in the photo

who redesigned the buckle

in percussion to release

 

another thing my mother told me

where the Black women worked

in their own isolated building

on the outskirt of the arsenal

doing the most dangerous job

measuring explosive powder

they were not allowed

to bring cigarettes or matches

anywhere near this building

my mother told me where the Black women

kept their cigarettes and matches

where they smoked on a break

 

I only wish my mother

and my sister

hadn't smoked

I only wish there had been no jim crow

no segregation for Black women

no smoking no cigarettes for any one

I only wish there had been no nazis

no genocide no need to fight a war 

Reviews

[Distantview123]

A wistful, historical prose poem. Obviously highly personal, but an interesting read for the outsider too. Thank you for sharing. ~ Robert.