Celebrating Toni Cade Bambara
As a history and women’s literature instructor, I wanted to write about an African American woman in history or literature for Black History Month. There are many Black women in history I admire — trailblazers and activists like Rosa Parks and Ella Baker; political pioneer Shirley Chisholm; scientists like Katherine Johnson and Dr. Patricia Bath; and many more. But then my love of women’s literature reminded me of an author, documentary filmmaker, social activist, and college professor I have wanted to write about for some time now: Toni Cade Bambara.
Born Miltonia Mirkin Cade in 1939, Toni Cade Bambera grew up in New York’s Harlem, Bedford-Stuyvesant, and Queens districts, along with Jersey City in New Jersey. She earned her Bachelor’s degree in Theater Arts/English from Queens College, City University of New York, in 1959. Her time at Queens College was pivotal, exposing her to diverse cultural and political ideas, and it was here that she began to develop her voice as a writer and activist. Following her undergraduate studies, Bambara continued her education at City College of New York, where she completed her Master’s degree in modern American fiction in 1964. Her graduate work further honed her skills in writing, research, and critical thinking — elements that would become central to her career as an author, filmmaker, and educator.
While pursuing her Master’s, she worked as a social worker at the Harlem Welfare Center. Upon completing her Master’s degree, she served as a faculty member at several colleges and universities, including Rutgers University, where she taught in the Department of Africana Studies, and Spelman College. Her academic career allowed her to influence and mentor a new generation of writers, scholars, and activists.
Literature and Filmmaking
Bambara is best known for her work in African American literature, particularly for the insightful way she portrayed African American life with her focus on the struggles, resilience, and joy of African American communities. Her work often emphasized themes of racial and gender inequalities, community solidarity, and social justice. Her narrative style is notable for its rich use of dialect, vivid character development, and strong sense of place.
Some of her most renowned works include Gorilla, My Love (1972), a collection of short stories that explores the lives of African Americans with humor, warmth, and insight; The Salt Eaters (1980), a novel that delves into the healing process of an African American community in the South; and The Sea Birds Are Still Alive (1977), another collection of short stories. The Salt Eaters won the American Book Award and the Langston Hughes Society Award, among others. Her novel These Bones Are Not My Child (1999), published posthumously and edited by her friend Toni Morrison, focused on the Atlanta child murders of 1979–1981. Through her writing, Bambara sought to empower her readers and highlight the importance of community action and resistance.
In addition to her literary work, Bambara was involved in documentary filmmaking, focusing on African American culture and social issues. Her work in documentaries allowed her to combine her passions for activism and storytelling. One of her notable contributions to documentary filmmaking is her work on The Bombing of Osage Avenue (1986) as writer and narrator. This film explores the tragic 1985 event in Philadelphia, where a confrontation between the city police and the MOVE organization led to the police bombing of a residential block on Osage Avenue. The bombing resulted in the destruction of over 60 homes and the deaths of 11 people, including children. Most of the adult victims were members of MOVE. Through this documentary, Bambara examines the impact of the event on the community, the tensions between African American communities and law enforcement, and broader themes of racial injustice.
Gorilla, My Love
My favorite work by her is the short story collection, Gorilla, My Love. This may be because the story “The Lesson” was one of the first short stories I taught as a college instructor, and I adored its sassy narrator, Sylvia. One of my students in that class also loved the story so much, she bought the book. At the end of the class, she gave it to me because she wanted me to read all of it, too. It was brilliant.
Gorilla, My Love is a collection of 15 stories, including “The Lesson,” which focuses on a group of inner-city children who are taken to an upscale toy store by Miss Moore, a rare woman in their neighborhood with a college education. The stark contrast in economic realities leads to a profound moment of realization for the children, especially the narrator Sylvia, about social inequality and injustice.
During the years I taught this story, some students were put off by Sylvia’s attitude and disrespect for Miss Moore:
Back in the days when everyone was old and stupid or young and foolish and me and Sugar were the only ones just right, this lady moved on our block with nappy hair and proper speech and no makeup. And quite naturally we laughed at her, laughed the way we did at the junk man who went about his business like he was some big-time president and his sorry-ass horse his secretary. And we kinda hated her too, hated the way we did the winos who cluttered up our parks and pissed on our handball walls and stank up our hallways and stairs so you couldn’t halfway play hide-and-seek without a goddamn gas mask. Miss Moore was her name. The only woman on the block with no first name. And she was black as hell, cept for her feet, which were fish-white and spooky. And she was always planning these boring-ass things for us to do, us being my cousin, mostly, who lived on the block cause we all moved North the same time and to the same apartment then spread out gradual to breathe. And our parents would yank our heads into some kinda shape and crisp up our clothes so we’d be presentable for travel with Miss Moore, who always looked like she was going to church though she never did. Which is just one of the things the grownups talked about when they talked behind her back like a dog. But when she came calling with some sachet she’d sewed up or some gingerbread she’d made or some book, why then they’d all be too embarrassed to turn her down and we’d get handed over all spruced up. She’d been to college and said it was only right that she should take responsibility for the young ones’ education, and she not even related by marriage or blood. So they’d go for it.
Sylvia pulls no punches, but I would point out to the students that what we hear in Sylvia’s narrative voice is really stubborn pride and resistance to authority. Sylvia has a sharp mind and cutting wit. She’s skeptical and critical of adults, especially Miss Moore. Sylvia doesn’t like Miss Moore casting aspersions on her social standing, and her acceptance of “The Lesson” is grudging and reluctant. Sylvia’s character is richly complex and real.
The other stories include “Gorilla, My Love,” in which another feisty young girl named Hazel is sorely disappointed when a movie theater advertises a film titled Gorilla, My Love but instead shows a religious film.
So the movie come on and right away it’s this churchy music and clearly not about no gorilla. Bout Jesus. And I am ready to kill, not cause I got anything gainst Jesus. Just that when you fixed to watch a gorilla picture you don’t wanna get messed around with Sunday School stuff. So I am mad. Besides, we see the raggedy old brown film King of Kings every year and enough’s enough. Grownups figure they can treat you just anyhow. Which burns me up.
Talk about bait and switch! This experience leads Hazel to reflect on the nature of promises and how adults often betray the trust of children. She realizes the adult world can often be misleading or disappointing.
“Raymond’s Run” is a touching story about Squeaky, a young girl who is responsible for her mentally challenged brother Raymond. Squeaky is a runner, and as she prepares for and participates in a race, she gains insight into her own identity and the importance of caring for her brother.
“Blues Ain’t No Mockin Bird” addresses the intrusion of two filmmakers into the private space of a grandmother’s backyard, where they aim to capture the “quaint” aspects of African American life. The story resonates today as it examines issues of privacy, dignity, and the right to control one’s image.
Just read it already! Each story in Gorilla, My Love is rich with Bambara’s sharp wit, keen observation, and deep empathy for her characters.
Wrapping It Up
If you haven’t figured it out by now, Bambara’s range as a writer and intellectual is impressively broad, encompassing a variety of genres and themes that highlight her versatility, depth, and commitment to social justice. Her body of work includes short stories, novels, essays, and documentary films, each showcasing her ability to capture the nuances of African American life and the complexities of human experience. She was a force of nature.
She died of colon cancer in 1995 at the age of 56. Far, far too soon.
