The Love Project

*Writer's Note: Full disclosure, I love this month. Generally, I always enjoy February. You've got Black History, unlimited chocolates, and I can wear red lipstick every day; but this year February feels even more special. Look at that month. All the days perfectly aligned and full. There's even a Friday the 13th in there for good measure. And because I'm so enamoured with this particular month, I'll be writing one "love" poem a day. Now L-O-V-E can mean lots of different things so I'll be exploring all of it. In honor of the Superbowl (and my Patriots being in it) my first poem is going to be about patriotism. 

Time Stands Still

 There’s a scene in the documentary Time is Illmatic where the frame is filled with photos taken for the cover of Nas’ seminal album Illmatic. They are snapshots of an era. Queensbridge. New York. 1994. In many ways, those scenes will never be captured again but they also haven’t changed. Set against the backdrop of this groundbreaking album, these first time filmmakers, One9 and Erik Parker, take the viewer on a trip from the Great Migration, through redlining, to the beginnings of hip hop and the takeover of crack to show the audience how Nasir Jones made an album that would become a defining experience for many.

On Spanking, Pathologizing White Violence and Using Common Sense

In the wake of the Adrian Peterson child abuse case, the Twitteratti and the Facebook "politicians" have begun an extensive debate around the idea of what's just a "whooping" and what exactly is child abuse. As a Black American, the idea of a whooping does not shock nor horrify me. I was on the receiving end of a few in my youth and I remember the horrified looks on my White classmates faces when my Black friends and I would sit around the cafeteria table and wax nostalgic about the beatings we'd received as children. Back then, my White classmates would exclaim about these acts and how wrong they were and at the time I didn't have the courage or the understanding to tell them the truth: everything Blacks in America learned about discipline, we learned from White people.

On Robin Thicke, White Male Privilege and the Black Female Body

In 12 Years a Slave  there's a scene where Michael Fassbender's Master Epps corners Lupita Nyong'o's Patsey and desperately whispers and moans his desire for her as he slowly rapes her. The scene is unflinching and Steve McQueen shows us every moment of Patsey's torture and Epp's mental instability. He's caught between a heinous desire and shame for wanting this woman whom he ultimately views as a work-horse. By the time Patsey begs Solomon to take her life, we are there with her. Anything to get her away from this man.

About a week ago, Robin Thicke released his music video for the single "Get Her Back" off his new album Paula. The album is a seeming ode to his estranged wife Paula Patton whom he separated with in February. In the video, Thicke presents himself as a battered man, broken by his love for this woman. He is desperate, he is in love, he is baring his soul (and their private messages), why won't she love him back?

Much has been written about the abuser dynamics and the public shaming Thicke is attempting with this album but what of the issues of privilege and power being played out here?

Thicke has built most of his career on emulating the sound and style of Black musicians, even going as far as to allegedly steal from the legendary Marvin Gaye without giving him credit. Thicke has engaged in a level of privilege that so many White artists have. He has the ability to take the parts of Black culture that suit him and profit off of them while discarding the rest. Furthermore, that privilege was bolstered by his Black wife. She gave him the "street cred" to push the boundaries of Black culture to its excesses. Patton and her assets have been heavily featured in his music videos adding to his cachet for snagging one of the "baddest" Black women in the entertainment industry. Therefore, Paula (and Paula) becomes a lamentation not only about lost love but lost power. And Thicke has been aggressively seeking to gain that power back. The video, his numerous pleas onstage and on the radio for her forgiveness, all of these have been met with silence by Patton yet he continues to push her to forgive through public acts of shaming. These actions show a lack of respect for her as a person and the public nature of them alludes to Thicke's sense of entitlement. He can air their personal business for the world because he is the aggrieved party. He can pick apart their lives publicly because as a White man he is entitled to feel his feelings without fear or shame. Patton is not awarded the same leeway. 

And our society is complicit in this entitlement. Just today Robin Thicke went on Hot97 to talk about Paula and Paula (the album and this relationship are inextricably linked so expect it to come up for the next 6 months to a year while he promotes and tours with this music) and his "woe is me tale" was met with this reaction from The Source online: 

"Poor Robin do you think Paula should take him back?  It’s pretty evident that he is sincerely sorry. The two have known each other since high school."

What is our measure of "sincerely sorry"? Does his apology trump her feelings? Historically, yes. At the very least, we know that his need to "make something artistic out of a very difficult time" trumps her personal privacy.

So in his desperation to get his wife back, Thicke continues to make his career off of her. This time using their personal life as fodder for his watered down R&B music. If he can't have her physically, the remnants of their relationship will be the fuel for his next round of hits. And he will continue to reap the benefits of her body. As Thicke said in his video when it comes to Paula, "this is only the beginning."

*Note: At the time of writing this, Thicke had not yet released the second video of the album "Still, Madly, Crazy" which is equally disturbing. 

Lupita is EVERYTHING, But Lupita Can't Be Everything

I am a Lupita Nyong'o fangirl. Ever since awards season began and Lupita Nyong'o began gracing our screens every week, slaying us with amazing outfits, witty repartee with droll red carpet interviewers and sweetly sincere acceptance speeches, I was hooked. That is the power of a well rolled out Oscar campaign and a genuine superstar in the making. My official hashtag became #LupitaisEVERYTHING and each awards show she lived up to and exceeded that moniker, culminating in her Oscar win on March 4th. 

Since then there's been a flurry of articles about her importance to young women of color as a dark-skinned woman, her role in progressing black actresses and what she will do next. The #LupitaforMAC hashtag was trending on Twitter as women of color rallied support around having her as a spokesmodel. Chimanada Ngozi Adiche has hinted that she will be starring in a adaptation of her book Americanah. And there's rumors she will play a role in Star Wars Episode 7 which is in development at Disney. Personally, I prioritize her being in films rather than as campaigns but either way the clamor for Lupita is both awesome and disturbing. 

Although I want Lupita to play everything from a super spy to an alien to the lead girl in a romcom, Hollywood (and our society at large) has a tendency to elevate one person of color and dust off their shoulders and pat themselves on the back for a job well done. For example, during the kerfuffle over the casting of Rooney Mara as Tiger Lily in the upcoming Peter Pan adaptation, the producers shot back at detractors that they had considered Lupita for the role. This statement was supposed to end the argument. We looked at a bunch of white women and Lupita so we engaged in diversity. First off, Lupita is not a Native woman so deigning to consider any woman of color is not an appeasement and secondly, I worry that statements like this will become a trend. Rather than opening doors for Black actresses, Lupita's success could close off avenues because of how Hollywood operates. They've found their Black It Girl and if she's unavailable or "not right" for the role, execs can shrug their shoulders and say "We tried you guys! We talked to Lupita!" So while I'm about that All Lupita Everything life, I urge everyone to remember all the other exemplary Black actresses out there and push their careers forward as well. Go and take a look at pictures and clips from the ESSENCE Black women in entertainment luncheon. Yes Lupita was there (and she spoke wonderfully about skin color and representation) but there was also Danielle Brooks, Samira Wiley and Nicole Beharie. The former two are on Orange is the New Black and the latter is the lead on Sleepy Hollow, all are Juilliard educated. There's also Teyonah Parris and Tessa Thompson who are starring in the Sundance hit Dear White People. Let's stan hard for all these women. Because Lupita can't be everywhere at once. And we have to push Hollywood to understand that one doesn't represent all. 

Habla Ifa, On NonViolence: Avonte Oquendo and Oshun's East River Speak - Part IV

*originally posted by Jadele McPherson, a writer, performer and activist whom I'm proud to call my sister. Reposted with permission and slight edits by myself

Part IV: Oquendo in Da River Lord: Oshun, Mori Yeye O, Medicine, Mirror and Healer

Oshun is sweet yet she is terrifying, the rivers waters are often murky and hide exotic creatures altered by human toxic wastes and other mutations our collective lifestyles cause, poisoning the very natural entities that sustain us. Like grandma used to say "So smart to be so stupid". I cry for Avonte Oquendo today and the countless others who have been washed away limb by limb, piece by piece unaccounted for, and I praise and lift up his family in this time for not allowing him to go unnoticed. I hope we can stand to look at this broken mirror of our education system to be accountable in letting our institutions deteriorate to this level. 

Most of all I hope the swiftness of her waves do not stop us in dreaming of a better world, of a better place for those we are creating when we go away from this crazy violent mess of America. I hope we do not curl in our comfort of suburban homes and well off communities that are "safe" and find the ways to exist in multiple spaces. As we gain access to the forbidden fruits that we keep close pace with the strife of the ghettos even for those who did not grow up there, it is okay to be middle class and grow up with the privileges still denied to so many black children - but to ignore one another because "I did the work," and "you did not" is just no longer acceptable.

How can we create alumni associations that do not mirror those of whites, only commemorating holidays and reunions; how do we create orgs that look like we do, though after we leave elite spaces for the professional world we are riddled with tests our white peers do not have to pass? Can we play Earth, Wind and Fire and James Brown at our college reunions to stir our most creative talents that required us to be better than all the whites that we had to pretend we were equal with in those walls of elistist education some 50+ years after Brown v. Board of Ed? How do we agitate to promote the legacy of non-violence in a world of stop and frisk, Trayvon Martin and Avonte Oquendo? A world in where if you are young and black your life is shot down at 19 or run down to the river in fear and terror when you supposed to be taking notes from a Smartboard. How do we clear the chaos with enough anger to fuel us to bind together, but not too much that it consumes us and drives us crazy? How do we love one another unconditionally to the point where it changes our lives and our lifestyles, where others children are our children and white children do hold the hands of black children, where all of Gods children are bound by Let Freedom Ring to continue drowning out the racists of Alabama and Mississippi Godd@!% How do we remix that message with the innovation we've carried from rumba to hip-hop to dare to care enough for one another that we don't care if we lose $250 of pay because we are worth more? Yes. I have more than a dream.

Ay Sea Santisimo, I have a vision, a divine glimpse of an exercise room and no fences around my school's courtyard, with courses on the connections between West African to Hip-Hop Dance and Afro-Latino history is taught trilingually with all students passing their classes. Where not just white Waldorf children are greeted with a "Hi, welcome today Johnny" but where instead of metal detectors, hot cafe con leche y pastelitos de guyaba y queso are warm and ready for my 2nd and 3rd period class as students barge through the doors practically breaking them down to learn, to seek truth, to seek faith to love we educators as much as they love their own beautiful golden brown to milk chocolate and black pearl complexions. A dream of telling the history of our peoples survival, where every hand shoots up when I ask "How long did the Transatlantic Slave Trade last?" and "What was the last country that abolished slavery?" And we eat lunch in our solar powered, organic food growing, rooftop garden and grocery store, where all owners are black folks and Dominican folks and Boricua, Nigerian, Panamanian, Honduran babies, beautiful children of light, well nourished and listos pa la batalla, understanding how we are one despite our nuances and differences, I have a vision that I know will not fail me, it did not fail my bis bis abuela when I walked through the gates of many buildings that I was never supposed to step foot in from Harvard to Broadway theaters, and yet here I am, well fed and a little overweight, bright and brilliant in love and truth, machete en la mano just like the maroons who birthed me. 

I am the Dream, and I dare you to try and prove me wrong, my truth sings free 200 years from now and I know how to swoop down and see it all in pure spirit from the secrets running through this blood while the rest of y'all stuck in boxes 6 feet under. Can't nobody oppress me enough to own my spirit and so for freedom I'm patient, yeah, patiently I'll wait. And I thank my students for being the ones to break this news to me, you all give me so much hope.

Y.E.A.H. (Young, Educated, {of} African Heritage)

For Avonte and our youth, in love and solidarity

Jadele.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 

Thank you to my sister Jadele for allowing me to repost her words. It's a strong testament both to Avonte's life and to our spirit as a community of African heritage. Ashe. 

Habla Ifa, On NonViolence: Avonte Oquendo and Oshun's East River Speak - Part III

*originally posted by Jadele McPherson, a writer, performer and activist whom I'm proud to call my sister. Reposted with permission and slight edits by myself

Part III: The Rotten Apple of Elitism: A Divided America

Accountability. Genuine, means we can start with ourselves first, then them later. We know they ain't gonna report what happened,  they aint gonna tell the truth, they don't give a godd*&m, but when we start to do the same, we in trouble. Those of us fighting the good fight that is, pro-humanity. We come in all shapes and sizes, all professions, all backgrounds all ways of life, and we do exist. We ain't dead yet. So as Eyiboge tells us "Mientras hay vidas, hay esperanza" (Nope, I aint translatin', google it you overeducated fools that I care deeply about).

Just as in Trayvon's case, every person of color is Avonte Oquendo. For those privileged enough, myself of course included, to have attended elite {read: white} institutions of higher education, we have more responsibility to those of us who did not make it, regardless of our profession, to every student of color in this nation. Despite our debt and our traumatic experiences, for which there is healing, if you have not stepped foot in a public school in a black and/or Latino neighborhood recently you are committing a grave crime, a grave error. We need all of you, your talents and your voices, your stories -- our children need your touch and your embraces, they need to know your name and how you survive through all of this craziness so that they too can hop in a dream. None of us are Yaled or Andover or Exetered or Nightengaled or Latin Schooled or Wesleyed or Williamsed or Oberlined or Smithed or Harvarded enough to escape this social service.

For every one of us who attended such places, 100 people from the 'hood could have gone in our places-- not all would have the community in place to actually graduate, but certainly the raw talent and intelligence. You see we, black and/or Latina/o people and progressive whites in Generation X or Y or Z, have bitten the poisoned apple of success and elitism. We are Social Darwinists and Capitalists to the core, vacationing in the Hamptons, drinking Scotch and relishing in our social circles of privilege without extending those opportunities even to others in our same graduation class. That's not my responsibility...is it? The vast majority of people of color graduate to uphold a dangerous system of tokenism in this country from law to politics, to President to Orchestras to media to education and the arts to finance. 

The rest of us who give a damn argue each other down without a care about this person's approach and this school of thought and this argument, don't tell me you practice holistic community in every step of your politics, radical folks. I have experienced our wrath and have been guilty by the same token. No idea is good enough for us, we circle ourselves in our ideas so much, we.forget.to.truly.act. And what's worst we chastise those who do not share our radical fire, isolating the multiplicity that is our community.

{Sidenote: And this modern day self-righteousness that I see among artists and "community activists" can be checked by action. Who outside of your fellow pillars of similar ideas have you affected, and what have you done? All the books in the world don't mean anything unless we can create action and community that has witnessed y/our continuous transformation and radical ideas put into projects, that work.} 

Well, we can't save everyone Jadele, we can't save the world. WHAT?! You mean to tell me the top 10% of black graduates of elite boarding schools and let's say top 100 colleges and universities in the nation, plus top graduating classes of HBCUs together, cannot radically transform our educational system in America, but sharecroppers could? We must have forgotten the blood shed for us to walk through those shiny black gates, or is it Sallie Mae who troubles us? We all have debt (well, some don't) and busy lives, we all have fears and dreams to work for every single day. No one is talking about what is impossible or unhealthy, we are talking about reality, what a summer volunteering at a public school for those of you who now make $100,000+ a year could do for a young person is as the commercial says = priceless. Speaking of advertising what about an effective media campaign about education equality for all my ad/marketing buffs, or is your dollar earned from the multi-million corporations you serve enough for you? Not enough time after work you say, give it 265 days of Happy Hours and see what you come up with? Jeez. I mean it comes down to time, focus and creativity with the resources at hand, our ancestors created more with much less, and now that we have the world at our fingertips, we're handicapped by brilliance and technology. Unreal.

How dare you leave us measly salaried PhD and artists with the burden of social change. Who exempted you from a life of service? See it is not just whites who perpetuate the myth of a post-racial society, it is a whole lot of us "people of color". We better get it right. Today's radical warriors are as diverse as King imagined them to be and we have to create that sophisticated multicultural, LGBTQ narrative while pursuing an apologetic black politic. Si, se puede.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4