By Tanya Dennis

The Post’s Healthy Aging Series addresses key components for healthy aging: mind, body and spirit. This article addresses the importance of having a strong spiritual or religious foundation.

As America’s population grows older, conversations about healthy aging often focus on diet, exercise and medical care. But for Dr. Arnold Xavier Cornelius Perkins, who will celebrate his 85th birthday next month, another ingredient has been equally important: a spiritual foundation and a lifelong commitment to serving others.

Perkins believes that health is not simply physical. It is emotional, mental, and spiritual. And for much of his life, he says, his faith and philosophy of service have kept him vibrant, happy and connected to the world around him.

“I am my brothers’ and sisters’ keeper,” Perkins said. “I am a ‘we’ person,” and referenced the South African expression of ‘Ubuntu,’ which means ‘I am because we all are.”

Born in Miami, Florida, Perkins came to California in 1954 with his family to attend a Seventh-day Adventist General Conference. His family ultimately decided to remain in California, unwilling to return to the harsh racism of the segregated South.

Trending

Jeep Wrangler 4xe: Who Is This Hybrid For? #shorts

He grew up in Berkeley, attending Golden Gate Academy, Willard School, and Berkeley High School before joining the Navy during the Vietnam War era. He later attended Merritt College when the Black Panther Party was emerging in Oakland, where he became involved as a volunteer for the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC). He graduated from San Francisco State University and completed additional coursework at Cal State East Bay.

His professional career became a remarkable journey through public service. Perkins served as Alameda County’s homeless coordinator, became a program officer with the San Francisco Foundation, headed a drug and alcohol program, and ultimately served as director of the Alameda County Public Health Department for 12 years before retiring in 2006.

But retirement did not mean stepping away from service.

Perkins jokingly describes this stage of his life as being in “preferment,” doing what he pleases. What he pleases, however, is continuing to help people.

He has worked with young people, served on San Quentin Prison’s warden advisory council, previously served on the Oakland Police Department Selection Commission, and completed two terms as chair of the Alameda County Juvenile Justice Delinquency Prevention Commission. He chaired the University of San Francisco’s Helen Diller Stanley Comprehensive Cancer Center for 10 years and is now in his 11th year serving on the California Wellness Foundation board.

Perkins even views a hereditary heart defect through the lens of his spiritual philosophy.

“I have a hole in my heart, so I’m not physically perfect,” he said. “But I look at it as I have a hole because I pour my heart out to people.”

That perspective may be one of his greatest lessons about healthy living. Perkins believes that kindness, compassion and community have a direct impact on a person’s emotional and spiritual well-being.

“If I see an unsheltered relative, I’d give them that $20,” he said. “My responsibility is to take care.”

For Perkins, giving does not deplete a person; it gives life back. “My life’s mission is to give,” he said. “And what I get back is life.”

He knows firsthand that one person can change another person’s destiny. As a young man, Perkins stuttered and often fought in response to the teasing and humiliation he experienced. A teacher, Jeff Tedisco, defended him and changed the direction of his life.

“If it hadn’t been for him,” Perkins said, “I would have been in San Quentin.”

Instead, Perkins now goes to Indaba Court, a restorative justice program, to help young people who have made wrong choices understand that they are part of a larger community.

“When they harm one person, they harm the community,” he said.

His prescription for a vibrant life is simple: be understanding, be kind and remember that life is not all about you.

“When we fold our arms, we can’t receive anything,” Perkins said. “But when we stretch out our arms and serve one another, we build community.”

At nearly 85, Arnold Perkins continues to prove that a life rooted in faith, service and love may be one of the most powerful foundations for healthy aging.

Next Week: Brenda Dennis Harris “The Body Temple.”

Post News Group

Posts by Post News Group

To enlarge your view of this issue, use the slider, magnifying glass icon or full page icon in the lower right corner of the browser window.

Oakland Post

Posts by Oakland Post

Before some of us knew Dolly Parton as the Queen of Country Music, we knew her as the woman behind Whitney Houston’s song. We knew the blonde hair, the rhinestones, and that unmistakable Tennessee voice. But somewhere along the way, Black America came to understand something deeper about Dolly; when she said she loved people, she had the receipts to prove it.

The community is now left to mourn the icon who passed away at the age of 80, on Aug. 25, after dealing with an unknown medical condition. Known for her chart-topping country music hits, Dolly never felt as though she belonged only to one genre, or one kind of person. She showed up with humor, humility and a generosity that did not ask who you voted for before offering a helping hand. She made room for people, and in return, people from every corner of the culture made room for her.

The Song That Brought Dolly and Whitney Together

For Black audiences, the bridge to Dolly will always run through Whitney Houston. Parton wrote “I Will Always Love You” as she prepared to leave Porter Wagoner’s television show and released it in 1974. The original was tender and restrained, a country goodbye delivered with grace. Then Whitney got hold of it.

Trending

Cars: A Cultural Connection…#Genesis #AutoNetwork

Houston’s 1992 rendition for “The Bodyguard” did not merely update the record. She took it to church, then carried it around the world. That opening a cappella moment, the controlled stillness and the key change that made everybody reach for a note they had no business trying to hit turned Parton’s country ballad into a global anthem. The single spent 14 consecutive weeks at No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100, became the best-selling physical single by a woman and earned two Grammy Awards.

And instead of trying to deny contribution or rush to remind everyone who wrote the song, she celebrated the way Houston’s voice transformed it. In an industry with a long history of taking from Black artists while denying them proper credit, Dolly understood that acknowledging Whitney’s greatness did not diminish her own. One woman wrote an extraordinary song. Another woman revealed everything else that song could become.

“This is the house that Whitney built.”

— Dolly Parton

Parton later shared that she used some of the royalties from Houston’s recording to purchase commercial property in a predominantly Black Nashville neighborhood. She called it “the house that Whitney built.” There was something beautiful about that acknowledgment. Whitney’s voice had generated wealth, and Dolly wanted part of that wealth rooted among people she described as Whitney’s people, and her people, too.

Dolly’s relationship with Black America was not built on pretending she did not see color. She saw us. In a 2020 Billboard interview, she made her position plain: “Of course Black lives matter. Do we think our little white asses are the only ones that matter? No!”

It was blunt, funny, and completely on brand. But Dolly also understood that allyship could not stop with a quote. After learning why the word “Dixie” was offensive and painful to many people, she removed it from the name of her Civil War-themed dinner attraction. She called her previous understanding “innocent ignorance.” More important, she fixed it.

That willingness to listen mattered. Dolly did not perform perfection or become defensive when someone pointed out harm. She showed that loving people means caring enough to learn, change and do better. In a time when public figures often double down just to avoid admitting they were wrong, Dolly simply chose not to be cruel.

Dolly’s love also arrived in the mail. Inspired by her father, who could not read or write, she launched the Imagination Library in 1995. The program began in Sevier County, Tennessee, sending one free, age-appropriate book each month to enrolled children from birth to age 5. What started in the rural community that raised her grew into an international literacy movement. By the end of 2025, the program had distributed more than 300 million books and was mailing about 3.4 million books each month.

Those books found their way into homes in big cities as well as small towns. In New York City, the Imagination Library has been promoted through public schools and community organizations in the Bronx. For urban families navigating tight budgets, limited bookstore access or neighborhoods where children’s books are not always easy to find, a brand-new book addressed directly to a child can mean more than one package. It tells that child, “This belongs to you. Your imagination matters.”

That was Dolly’s kind of giving: personal, useful and rooted in dignity. She also funded scholarships, supported hospitals, invested in medical research and helped families recover from disasters. Her $1 million donation to Vanderbilt University Medical Center supported research connected to the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine. She turned the money she made entertaining people into opportunities to help them live, learn and rebuild.

A preschooler opening one of Dolly’s books in the Bronx did not need to know “Jolene.” A parent reading that book at bedtime did not need to be a country music fan. Her generosity crossed racial and economic lines because it met families in real life, at the mailbox, in a hospital room or after the unthinkable happened.

A Legacy That Felt Like Love

Dolly Parton leaves behind thousands of songs, beloved films, major businesses and enough rhinestones to keep heaven sparkling for a while. But her greatest legacy may be the way she made strength feel soft without ever making it weak. She knew exactly who she was, yet she never needed anyone else to become smaller so she could shine.

For Black listeners, her bond will always be part of that story. “I Will Always Love You” was never about choosing between the white woman who wrote it and the Black woman who took it somewhere new. Dolly gave the world the words. Whitney gave those words wings. Together, they created a piece of American music that refuses to stay inside one genre or belong to only one community.

That is why this loss feels personal, even to people who never met her. Dolly reminded us that tenderness can be powerful. She showed us that changing your mind can be a sign of character, that celebrating another woman’s brilliance does not steal your light and that love means very little if it never becomes action.

Country music will forever call Dolly Parton one of its queens. But Black culture recognized something in her, too: a woman who respected our greatness, spoke up for our humanity and invested in our children. She did not simply leave this world loved. In the ways that mattered most, Dolly loved us back.

Post News Group

Posts by Post News Group