LA Times Today: My Country: Despite isolation and racism, black Americans feel at home in the California desert

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Tourists flock to the California deserts to lose themselves in its otherworldly landscapes, enjoy dazzling sunsets, and forget about their troubles on getaways like Palm Springs.

But for black Americans who live in the desert, this presents a more complicated escape. Segregation, generational poverty, displacement, occasional affronts that sting like a thousand cuts. Even in idyllic playgrounds like Palm Springs and the communities that border nearby Joshua Tree National Park, there is no refuge from the history of racism in the Americas.

I traveled two and a half hours east of LA to hear the stories of black Californians who built lives in the desert, and whose families sometimes stretch back generations. I also visited an open-air museum which has become a place of reflection for me. It is the creation of Noah Purifoy, the late LA artist who rose to prominence in the aftermath of the Watts uprising in 1965 by turning the charred remains of black community buildings into works of art.

The 10-acre Purifoys Museum is filled with found objects that have been assembled in a way that references black Americans struggling to be accepted. There’s a simulated white-only water fountain, voting booths that seem to commemorate the struggle for the right to vote, crosses reminiscent of lynchings and Klan gatherings. It is a sobering place.

Purifoy once said that being African Americans we have a lot more reasons to be angry than other people.

This trip reminded me how much truth there is in this feeling.

I can’t count all the times I’ve listened to black people across this country relay cases where they were treated like they didn’t belong, like their lives didn’t matter.

It was disheartening to hear similar stories as I moved from Palm Springs to the military town of Twentynine Palms.

But my visit also reminded me of our resilience, our capacity for grace and good humor.

New York native Carrie Williams and her sister Karen Harper told me how they deal with the social isolation and racial hostility they have faced in their 30 years in the high desert. Harpers took groups of friends to a local observatory to gaze at the stars and she loves driving to Joshua Tree to let her mind wander.

Meanwhile, her sister recently took up rock climbing.

The sisters were so full of laughter when they met. It wasn’t until after we parted ways that I realized their smiles were a form of challenge.

As black Americans, we may never be able to completely let our guard down and free ourselves from the pain of our past or the injustices that are happening in our time. But our talent for bringing together the heartaches that bind us in moments of beauty and lightness – that accompanies us wherever we go.

I’m Tyrone Beason for the Los Angeles Times.

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