The Question:
This question popped in my head as I was coming home the movies. I went to go see "War," starring Jet Li and Jason Statham. Pretty good movie. But that's not really germain to the subject matter...
Anyway, I was on the train coming back home and a group of Caucasian people were being very raucous and were completely drowning out my conversation. So I thought maybe if I got just as loud they'd see how annoying it was and stop. So I made a very loud remark to my friend that immediately caused them to shut up. I said to myself, "Wow, is that what it takes? A large obnoxious black man to get White folks to listen...would that have worked if it was Black folks?...shit, do Black folks even listen to Black folks?"
So I was on the bus at 1AM. It was extremely quiet and gave me ample time to reflect, thus spawning the question, "Why don't Black people listen to Black people?"
___________________
My Answer:
I think that we have learned to drown each other out honestly. You have the same Black leaders pushing the same message and the same agenda. No matter how apt the message may be, people tend to turn a deaf ear, if there aren't immediate tangible results.
If you want to bring this home to HU, you could ask, "What happened to The Movement?" As someone who helped spearhead it, I often ask the same question. The goal of The Movement, at least in my eyes, was corporate progression based on personal revolutions. One of the issues that we constantly discussed was how best to show Howard that we were serious. The Movement's biggest obstacle was the inability of Howard community to consolidate its considerably voluminous student body into an organized force guided by faith in the leadership and a belief in the right of the student to be heard fully.
Black people have to turned such a blind eye to idealism that without immediate, bold, tangible evidence of effort, we lose all sense of hope or faith. I was always told that the Black community survived all the atrocities that have been wrought upon us by our faith. But, I ask you where is it? What do we believe in?
We have grown too complacent in waiting for the old vanguards of the Civil Rights Era to spring up and defend our right to be Black. But I ask, how long can we can ride these old war houses before new stallions emerge from the pack. Generally, whenever a Black man, especially, decides to set himself apart from the pack, he is immediately dragged back down to the bottom by that "crabs in a barrel" mentality we seem to have. I'm not saying that we all need to try to press our way to the forefront, just to show face and take credit. What I am saying is that we need more foot soldiers that are willing to help create the platform that will transform the world.
I think we as a community are ripe for a change. The voices of those old war horses. whose effect was already diminished by our increasing lack of faith, are down to a whisper after having gone full bore into every fight for the past 40 years. I think that a large part of Barack Obama's success is that he really hasn't said much...He's new, bright, and charismatic...that's all we need...He's mastered the art of shutting the fuck up. He also serves to further solidify Black support of the Democratic Party, having brought forth the most viable candidate of color for the Presidency ever...EVER!!! Obama doesn't have a long history of failed attempts and bad losses and coming up just short. He is a break from the failure of past attempts of minorities to grab offices of power. He is part of the inevitable changing of the guard.
____________
Final Thoughts
Black people don't listen because we're tired of hearing the same thing. We've learned to tune out anything that doesn't provide instant gratification. We have lost our faith and our ability to see the big picture. I mean but can you really blame us. Once you've been lied to and deceived so many times by soo many people, you become jaded, especially when they use your own people to deliver the message to you. We have to get our faith back...we have to relearn to open our ears.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
The Life of A Collegiate Activist.
In reading some other notes by several other Howard students, I've come to realize that we all think the same thoughts but the difference is in the actions subsequent. In waxing philosophic about the merit of action, it brings me back to the same notions of leadership and who gets the credit. At the end of the day most of us, people that is, want to be appropriately acknowledged for our contributions and like the limelight despite our faux modesty. I know I get upset when people don’t comment because it people don’t comment how do you know whether are not people are reading what you wrote and whether it’s having any impact or adding something unique to the discussion. No thoughts are original just their context. I’m digressing a bit though.
I want to salute all the collegiate activists out there who are fighting for their beliefs and actively working to make a difference in the world. You may be asking yourself what makes someone a college activist and am I one. Well, here’s a simple test. Do you make it a mission to a principled life? Are you of service to others? Are you in college? Do you think that your degree isn’t just for you but for the world? If you can honestly answer yes to those questions, then I’m talking about you. I see myself as an activist because I am actively attempting to make the world a better place. I’m not going to list the programs I work for now and have worked for in the past because that stuff doesn’t mean much at the end of the day when you’re lying in bed looking up at the ceiling recounting your day. I know plenty of people who are simply pretending to care or be interested in social causes while serving self.
What I have observed is that there are a lot of college activists out there on this campus, mostly women; but that we all belong to our own groups and sects and cliques and that there is no cohesiveness. For those who remember The Movement, it was an interesting of example of the potential for effectiveness that can be harnessed on this campus. As mixed as the results were in the end, in the building process, it brought out people from a variety of different organizations and cliques, gay, straight, religious, deeply secular, non-Black, social climbers, campus office holders, greeks, greek-haters, etc. I think that it shows that we are all in this thing for the same cause, change. We all recognize that there certain fundamental wrongs in the world that go beyond our prejudices. As I mentioned in another note, is that the challenge of leadership, especially Black leadership is showing others that you are serious about what you are talking about. Effecting real change takes an unquestioned, unshakable faith in the goal that you are moving toward. I don’t think that overall goal was made clear in the Movement, beyond that the diversity of opinion that was available wasn’t readily made available, often because of feelings that were unknowingly hurt or slighted.
The key to serving others is humility, letting your pride take a backseat to the larger goal. Black people here in America have had to scratch and claw for the pride that they do have and have been taken in by Eurocentric beliefs in individualism, making unity next to impossible. In the bible, Jesus talks about the three kinds of soil. The first kind of soil is so hard and dry that there’s no way anything can grow. The second kind of soil is softer and the seed appears to take root but there are all sorts of rocks and weeds in the soil that keep it from growing. The third kind of soil is that “just right” soil, when the seed is planted it takes root, germinates, grows and blooms. I’m not the most religious man in the world but it sounds to me like the Black community is a lot like that second kind of soil. We want to have faith but we allow the weeds and rocks of doubt to choke the life out. It’s wayyy past time to the weeds and to move on. Yes, it’s easier said than done but since when has anything worth come without struggle or sacrifice.
So now, to bring this full circle, the life of a collegiate activist is cluttered with preoccupations of passions vs. school vs. work. There are only 24 hours in the day, how we choose to spend them determines who we are. Change is not fueled by one voice at full throat but by a choir joining in harmony to tear down the walls of injustice. That’s why networking and coalition-building now are so vital. So I urge each of us to step out from behind the labels and just do the work. If you can’t ride the train to freedom, at least help lay down the track. That is our challenge; that is our duty; that is our cross to bear.
I want to salute all the collegiate activists out there who are fighting for their beliefs and actively working to make a difference in the world. You may be asking yourself what makes someone a college activist and am I one. Well, here’s a simple test. Do you make it a mission to a principled life? Are you of service to others? Are you in college? Do you think that your degree isn’t just for you but for the world? If you can honestly answer yes to those questions, then I’m talking about you. I see myself as an activist because I am actively attempting to make the world a better place. I’m not going to list the programs I work for now and have worked for in the past because that stuff doesn’t mean much at the end of the day when you’re lying in bed looking up at the ceiling recounting your day. I know plenty of people who are simply pretending to care or be interested in social causes while serving self.
What I have observed is that there are a lot of college activists out there on this campus, mostly women; but that we all belong to our own groups and sects and cliques and that there is no cohesiveness. For those who remember The Movement, it was an interesting of example of the potential for effectiveness that can be harnessed on this campus. As mixed as the results were in the end, in the building process, it brought out people from a variety of different organizations and cliques, gay, straight, religious, deeply secular, non-Black, social climbers, campus office holders, greeks, greek-haters, etc. I think that it shows that we are all in this thing for the same cause, change. We all recognize that there certain fundamental wrongs in the world that go beyond our prejudices. As I mentioned in another note, is that the challenge of leadership, especially Black leadership is showing others that you are serious about what you are talking about. Effecting real change takes an unquestioned, unshakable faith in the goal that you are moving toward. I don’t think that overall goal was made clear in the Movement, beyond that the diversity of opinion that was available wasn’t readily made available, often because of feelings that were unknowingly hurt or slighted.
The key to serving others is humility, letting your pride take a backseat to the larger goal. Black people here in America have had to scratch and claw for the pride that they do have and have been taken in by Eurocentric beliefs in individualism, making unity next to impossible. In the bible, Jesus talks about the three kinds of soil. The first kind of soil is so hard and dry that there’s no way anything can grow. The second kind of soil is softer and the seed appears to take root but there are all sorts of rocks and weeds in the soil that keep it from growing. The third kind of soil is that “just right” soil, when the seed is planted it takes root, germinates, grows and blooms. I’m not the most religious man in the world but it sounds to me like the Black community is a lot like that second kind of soil. We want to have faith but we allow the weeds and rocks of doubt to choke the life out. It’s wayyy past time to the weeds and to move on. Yes, it’s easier said than done but since when has anything worth come without struggle or sacrifice.
So now, to bring this full circle, the life of a collegiate activist is cluttered with preoccupations of passions vs. school vs. work. There are only 24 hours in the day, how we choose to spend them determines who we are. Change is not fueled by one voice at full throat but by a choir joining in harmony to tear down the walls of injustice. That’s why networking and coalition-building now are so vital. So I urge each of us to step out from behind the labels and just do the work. If you can’t ride the train to freedom, at least help lay down the track. That is our challenge; that is our duty; that is our cross to bear.
Love's In Need of Love Today!
I was sitting inside on Sunday night just musing about life and thinking about what was most important to me. Of course, the answer is love. In thinking about love especially in the Black community, I wanted to focus on 3 specific areas, love in terms of family, relationships, and religion. So this is like part one of a three part series, if I get to it. Please comment and tell me if you like it!
Relationships
First off, are we really even having relationships anymore? I know I haven’t been in one in years. Secondly, even those of us who are in them, how many of us really know how to be in them? ‘Cuz if you’re looking to popular culture as an example of how you should behave and how relationships should be, then you are looking in the wrong place. It’s not all about supersoaking hos, getting her/him wet, getting them to hit that falsetto, or a sexual eruption. It’s about intimacy, opening up, and really connecting, not just from a penis to a vagina or an anus, whatever floats your boat. I don’t know what it is about music today but it seems like the more explicit the song is the more popular it is. That’s one of my favorite things about old school music. It was sexual but it wasn’t vulgar. Teddy Pendergrass told you to turn off the lights. What did you do? YOU TURNED OFF THE DAMN LIGHTS! That’s all there was to it. I’m waiting for the new hot single, “My Dick in Your Pussy” to come out so we can just get it all out there on the table. Sometimes you’ve just got to be classy enough to hold back. Leave some surprise, some mystery. I won’t be mad at you.
P.S. There is nothing wrong with friends with benefits or a cut buddy or a get down partna...But when you don't make your intentions clear from jump. You mess it up for everybody. There is nothing worse than leading someone on.
We seem to have lost the distinction between love and lust. Just because two people choose to sleep together, is not the basis for establishing a relationship. Just because we are really close friends and I’m single and you’re single, is not the basis for a relationship. As human beings, we naturally feel the need for companionship, but we cannot force titles upon someone that doesn’t want to hold it. At one point recently, I was in a situation with a female where we were enjoying each other company, “kickin’ it,” as it were, and after awhile of becoming comfortable with me, she basically started “clocking” me. “Clocking” is defined as being overly concerned with forcing something to progress without regard for external input. She basically had set a timetable for our relationship, even though we weren’t technically dating. Obviously, I became uncomfortable with this and promptly ended our situation. I am not saying this is typical behavior of females; but it is part of a collective sentiment that I have heard a considerable number of men express. Often women, especially Black women, are looking to settle down too early and are less willing to simply go with the flow; but again, I’ve also heard a smaller group of women express the same sentiment about men. I’ve also heard women complain that men are too indecisive about what they want and are unable to effectively communicate. I think all of these issues go back to an overall inability, especially in the Black community, for us to express what it is that we want, openly and honestly. How can we expect to create lasting relationships that aren’t built on the truth? Most relationships crumble because we are not realistic in our expectations or in our communication of our desired outcome.
One thing that always warms my heart is seeing an elderly black couple. If we were to look through our own personal catalogs of all the relationships that we’ve seen come and go, how many of them have really lasted? And among those, how many were African-American? I can only think of a few examples offhand, a 3 married couples at my church, Will & Jada, Angela Bassett & Courtney Vance, Lawrence Fishburne and Gina Torres, most recently Jermaine Dupri and Janet Jackson and the quintessentially Black marriage Bill and Camille Cosby. And in making this list, I am reminded of posthumous couples Martin Luther King, Jr. & Coretta Scott King, Malcolm X & Betty Shabazz, and Ozzie Davis and Ruby Dee, and a little tear comes to my eye. The idea of commitment has been lost in society overall not just the Black community, but if we are to overcome our social woes, we must rebuild the Black family and that starts with relationships. The neglect of the emotional ties between Black men and women has left our community ultimately crippled.
Another issue of note to me is that we really don’t get out and meet people anymore. The internet has ruined the ability to make interpersonal connections beyond typing and texting. We are too internet-reliant. People are more than a screenname and a profile and that‘s difficult to ascertain via the net. Now that we can pretty much research anyone we want via myspace, facebook, and google, there is no mystery in getting to know someone, nothing to be unveiled with time; but, simultaneously, and most interestingly to me, people seem more committed to being dishonest. The internet is a way to be connected impersonally and without any sense of commitment or emotional investment, which are pivotal to creating realistic relationships.
Blaming homosexuality for the destruction of the Black family is so completely ignorant. It is also just as ignorant to blame interracial dating. For most Black women, once they achieve a certain level of professional success they have made themselves unavailable to most Black men, especially if that woman is looking for a man of equal or greater economic value and education. So Black women are ultimately forced to settle for something lesser, look even harder, or look for alternative options. I feel that it is up to us as Black men to reclaim our women by educating ourselves, emotionally, culturally and intellectually, and increasing our earning potential. But even beyond that, we can’t be prejudicial in terms of deciding who we want to date. It is my opinion that love is colorblind; but as with everything, that’s not necessarily true.
Relationships
First off, are we really even having relationships anymore? I know I haven’t been in one in years. Secondly, even those of us who are in them, how many of us really know how to be in them? ‘Cuz if you’re looking to popular culture as an example of how you should behave and how relationships should be, then you are looking in the wrong place. It’s not all about supersoaking hos, getting her/him wet, getting them to hit that falsetto, or a sexual eruption. It’s about intimacy, opening up, and really connecting, not just from a penis to a vagina or an anus, whatever floats your boat. I don’t know what it is about music today but it seems like the more explicit the song is the more popular it is. That’s one of my favorite things about old school music. It was sexual but it wasn’t vulgar. Teddy Pendergrass told you to turn off the lights. What did you do? YOU TURNED OFF THE DAMN LIGHTS! That’s all there was to it. I’m waiting for the new hot single, “My Dick in Your Pussy” to come out so we can just get it all out there on the table. Sometimes you’ve just got to be classy enough to hold back. Leave some surprise, some mystery. I won’t be mad at you.
P.S. There is nothing wrong with friends with benefits or a cut buddy or a get down partna...But when you don't make your intentions clear from jump. You mess it up for everybody. There is nothing worse than leading someone on.
We seem to have lost the distinction between love and lust. Just because two people choose to sleep together, is not the basis for establishing a relationship. Just because we are really close friends and I’m single and you’re single, is not the basis for a relationship. As human beings, we naturally feel the need for companionship, but we cannot force titles upon someone that doesn’t want to hold it. At one point recently, I was in a situation with a female where we were enjoying each other company, “kickin’ it,” as it were, and after awhile of becoming comfortable with me, she basically started “clocking” me. “Clocking” is defined as being overly concerned with forcing something to progress without regard for external input. She basically had set a timetable for our relationship, even though we weren’t technically dating. Obviously, I became uncomfortable with this and promptly ended our situation. I am not saying this is typical behavior of females; but it is part of a collective sentiment that I have heard a considerable number of men express. Often women, especially Black women, are looking to settle down too early and are less willing to simply go with the flow; but again, I’ve also heard a smaller group of women express the same sentiment about men. I’ve also heard women complain that men are too indecisive about what they want and are unable to effectively communicate. I think all of these issues go back to an overall inability, especially in the Black community, for us to express what it is that we want, openly and honestly. How can we expect to create lasting relationships that aren’t built on the truth? Most relationships crumble because we are not realistic in our expectations or in our communication of our desired outcome.
One thing that always warms my heart is seeing an elderly black couple. If we were to look through our own personal catalogs of all the relationships that we’ve seen come and go, how many of them have really lasted? And among those, how many were African-American? I can only think of a few examples offhand, a 3 married couples at my church, Will & Jada, Angela Bassett & Courtney Vance, Lawrence Fishburne and Gina Torres, most recently Jermaine Dupri and Janet Jackson and the quintessentially Black marriage Bill and Camille Cosby. And in making this list, I am reminded of posthumous couples Martin Luther King, Jr. & Coretta Scott King, Malcolm X & Betty Shabazz, and Ozzie Davis and Ruby Dee, and a little tear comes to my eye. The idea of commitment has been lost in society overall not just the Black community, but if we are to overcome our social woes, we must rebuild the Black family and that starts with relationships. The neglect of the emotional ties between Black men and women has left our community ultimately crippled.
Another issue of note to me is that we really don’t get out and meet people anymore. The internet has ruined the ability to make interpersonal connections beyond typing and texting. We are too internet-reliant. People are more than a screenname and a profile and that‘s difficult to ascertain via the net. Now that we can pretty much research anyone we want via myspace, facebook, and google, there is no mystery in getting to know someone, nothing to be unveiled with time; but, simultaneously, and most interestingly to me, people seem more committed to being dishonest. The internet is a way to be connected impersonally and without any sense of commitment or emotional investment, which are pivotal to creating realistic relationships.
Blaming homosexuality for the destruction of the Black family is so completely ignorant. It is also just as ignorant to blame interracial dating. For most Black women, once they achieve a certain level of professional success they have made themselves unavailable to most Black men, especially if that woman is looking for a man of equal or greater economic value and education. So Black women are ultimately forced to settle for something lesser, look even harder, or look for alternative options. I feel that it is up to us as Black men to reclaim our women by educating ourselves, emotionally, culturally and intellectually, and increasing our earning potential. But even beyond that, we can’t be prejudicial in terms of deciding who we want to date. It is my opinion that love is colorblind; but as with everything, that’s not necessarily true.
Ode to My Ancestors
In my travels across the internet, the vast expanse of nothingness that it is, I stumbled upon something very interesting. The following names:
Burt Reynolds, Cher, Kim Bassigner, Jessica Biel, Benjamin Bratt, Rita Coolidge, Cameron Diaz, Shannon Elizabeth, Ava Gardner, Val Kilmer, Della Reese, Maria Tallchief, Tina Turner, Johnny Depp, Keanu Reeves, Tommy Lee Jones, Heather Locklear, Chuck Norris, Demi Moore, Elvis Presley, Della Reese, Quinten Tarrantino, Billy Bob Thornton, Carmen Electra, Buffy Sainte-Marie, James Earl Jones, Wayne Newton, Mykelti Williamson…
All of these celebrities are known to have Native North, Central, South American, Alaskan, or Hawaiian ancestry.
And it got me to think about my own ancestry and exactly where I come from. I think that 2008 will definitely be a journey into the past for me, a Sankofa trip if you will. For those of you who may not be familiar with the term Sankofa, it means “go back and fetch it,” basically retrieving the lessons that you need from the past in order to move forward into the future. I, in addition to being African-American, am 1/8 First American (No Indians ‘round here y’all), Cherokee being the tribe. For me, I’m realizing more and more how important it is to be connected with your roots and to realize the greatness upon which you stand.
At the 2008 Young People For (YP4) Conference, my eyes were truly opened to the types of ethnic and culture diversity that this great land known as America houses. I have never before met such a unique group of people that I almost instantaneously bonded with. By the highlight of the whole conference for me was the last night where we got to kind of hang loose and relax and really break bread and talk. Before this conference, I had never met any First Americans (call me sheltered or call us scattered, yeah I said us); but now, I had the opportunity to sit down and break bread with a small group of them at dinner. As we talked and conversed, I felt like an inner glow of sorts that I had only felt one other time and that was during my trip to Africa. We dialogued about First American issues and what happening on the reservation and inter-tribal relations and First American history. Just about everything they told me about, I saw a parallel to in African-American history. And I was like, “WOW!” Have you ever felt like you could’ve cried but you didn’t. Well that’s what I was feeling. Even though they weren’t from the same tribe as my ancestors are from I could definitely feel the connection between us. I think that for a lot of people, African-Americans especially, we have become so disconnected from our roots that we don’t understand ourselves anymore and we don’t understand our place, as W.E.B. DuBois would put it, as “global citizens.” My issues do not only affect me; they affect you. Your issues do not only affect you; they affect me.
I’m a member of Union Temple Baptist Church in Southeast Washington, D.C. This is where I grew up. In a lot of ways, it is me. I’ve been a member since I was 9 years old, like 12 years of commitment. But anyway, at the church there is a Manhood Training Rites of Passage program. My father asked me did I want to do it. I hemmed and hawed about it. Eventually, he just decided it was something I needed, that I no longer had a choice, and that dammit I was going to do this program. So, essentially, the program is about teaching you to understand self and understand how to harness your God-given power into something manifest in the world. And how to be a Black man.
Anyway, I did the program for about 7 years and at the end of the program is the big crossover ceremony which takes place in Ghana. I was excited to go and they put us through a lot to get there. So, me, the Babas, and the other four gentlemen (down from at one point 6) that I was crossing over with, and other folks from the church, said our goodbyes to friends at family at Dulles Airport in June 2005 and boarded the plane for Africa.
The trip lasted about 12 days and we ended up in Ghana, Ethiopia, and Nigeria (it was just a layover though). The actual physical crossover ceremony was on the beach in Ghana. It was dark but beautiful. The surf pounding. The waves crashing. The moonlight gently skimming across the waters. We were lead blindfolded around the beach up, over, through, and around many obstacles. During this exercise, all we had was each other and all we needed was God. As we marched along the beach and eventually into the water itself, we continued to chant aloud, “God is in me, through me, and around me. And where God is there can be no imperfection.” And we made it through. We crossed over into manhood. And at first, I was like, “Yeah, we made it!” But I realized that I still didn’t feel like a man. There was part of me that still hadn’t quite crossed over. A part of me that didn’t truly realize where I was or what I had done. Throughout the trip, there were many emotional points for me- visiting the El Mina slave dungeons, seeing the churches in Lalibela, interacting with the youth; but, honestly, nothing hit me more than coming back home and looking around and really seeing how blessed and fortunate I am to have had the experiences that I have had.
One of the things we discussed at the YP4 Conference, ad nauseam, was the concept of privilege and how many kinds of privilege there are that go unnoticed. Most of the things that we listed were material or physical qualities, such as wealth, status, whiteness, maleness, stuff we had no control over; but, the most important privilege is that of experience and first-hand knowledge.
The Creator, whomever you pray to when shit hits the fan, has a unique design for each and every one of our lives that is inescapable. The uniqueness of each of us gives each of us our own culture lensing and vehicle through which to attack to the ills of this society. The things that I’ve experienced, no matter how much I tell you about them, will never be your experiences, and vice versa. No two people have done the exact same activities in the exact same way ever. I think that that individuality gets lost in the overall sauce, and that’s one of my biggest gripes with global society. It’s not that there aren’t enough cooks in the kitchen, there are bit too many if you ask me, but there aren’t enough spices being added to get the real flavor. America is too worried about its cultural stew tasting bad, so it chucks a few seasonings, such as poverty, homosexuality, racial tensions, and domestic violence, to make it palatable to the world. So they can say, “Hey, it’s working for us over here. Why don’t you try it our way?” What America needs to realize is that the reason the stew tastes bad is because you stir it with deceit and hate. It has nothing to do with the spices.
But we as the seasonings need to be aware of each other and how each of us affecting the pot. I was conversing with both another YP4 fellow and my supervisor about Asian American issues, which I barely was aware of. As we conversed, I brought up elements of what the other had discussed just to make sure that the information I was getting was consistent. And I came to realize that there is a lot more oppression out there- socio-economically, sexually, cultural, emotionally, intellectually, and psychologically- than I had realized and honestly cared to realize. Ignorance is bliss. Whoever said it was absolutely right. If you don’t know it’s there, then you can’t be concerned by it; but the moment, the tarp is pulled off of what you thought was that shiny Bentley GT Continental only to be revealed as that ‘72 Gremlin you had been dreading, you can’t unsee it. You can’t undo this disappointment. You can’t leave it unnoticed anymore. You will always see it for what it is, no matter what someone else tells you.
(I know this has been a long, long, long message. And you’re probably tired of reading, but bare with me for another paragraph please. )
The message is entitled “An Ode to My Ancestors” for a reason. I know I went off on what appeared to be tangents several times; but it’s all interconnected. If you don’t get anything else out of this please realize that every action in the world is interconnected on some level and in some form or fashion. I just want to give sincere honor and thanks the Creator for bringing me into this moment to be the man that at I am and leader that I am becoming. Your lineage, your ancestry did not happen by happenstance. It took all those generations of people to create you, to create this moment.
I am thankful to all of my ancestors for giving me the gifts that I am able to share and express to the world. Yes, I know this is just a small little note or blog on a website; but this is an expression of who I am and what I was born to do and I am so thankful for the opportunity to do it. We don’t take the time to truly be thankful for the gifts we have been given. And if I never type another word, breathe another breath, I am thankful. I am just so thankful to everything that happened and didn’t happen in my life and my ancestors’ lives to make this possible. If you keep that spirit in your heart, there’s no room for hung heads or sullenness, only for excellence. Thank you!
Burt Reynolds, Cher, Kim Bassigner, Jessica Biel, Benjamin Bratt, Rita Coolidge, Cameron Diaz, Shannon Elizabeth, Ava Gardner, Val Kilmer, Della Reese, Maria Tallchief, Tina Turner, Johnny Depp, Keanu Reeves, Tommy Lee Jones, Heather Locklear, Chuck Norris, Demi Moore, Elvis Presley, Della Reese, Quinten Tarrantino, Billy Bob Thornton, Carmen Electra, Buffy Sainte-Marie, James Earl Jones, Wayne Newton, Mykelti Williamson…
All of these celebrities are known to have Native North, Central, South American, Alaskan, or Hawaiian ancestry.
And it got me to think about my own ancestry and exactly where I come from. I think that 2008 will definitely be a journey into the past for me, a Sankofa trip if you will. For those of you who may not be familiar with the term Sankofa, it means “go back and fetch it,” basically retrieving the lessons that you need from the past in order to move forward into the future. I, in addition to being African-American, am 1/8 First American (No Indians ‘round here y’all), Cherokee being the tribe. For me, I’m realizing more and more how important it is to be connected with your roots and to realize the greatness upon which you stand.
At the 2008 Young People For (YP4) Conference, my eyes were truly opened to the types of ethnic and culture diversity that this great land known as America houses. I have never before met such a unique group of people that I almost instantaneously bonded with. By the highlight of the whole conference for me was the last night where we got to kind of hang loose and relax and really break bread and talk. Before this conference, I had never met any First Americans (call me sheltered or call us scattered, yeah I said us); but now, I had the opportunity to sit down and break bread with a small group of them at dinner. As we talked and conversed, I felt like an inner glow of sorts that I had only felt one other time and that was during my trip to Africa. We dialogued about First American issues and what happening on the reservation and inter-tribal relations and First American history. Just about everything they told me about, I saw a parallel to in African-American history. And I was like, “WOW!” Have you ever felt like you could’ve cried but you didn’t. Well that’s what I was feeling. Even though they weren’t from the same tribe as my ancestors are from I could definitely feel the connection between us. I think that for a lot of people, African-Americans especially, we have become so disconnected from our roots that we don’t understand ourselves anymore and we don’t understand our place, as W.E.B. DuBois would put it, as “global citizens.” My issues do not only affect me; they affect you. Your issues do not only affect you; they affect me.
I’m a member of Union Temple Baptist Church in Southeast Washington, D.C. This is where I grew up. In a lot of ways, it is me. I’ve been a member since I was 9 years old, like 12 years of commitment. But anyway, at the church there is a Manhood Training Rites of Passage program. My father asked me did I want to do it. I hemmed and hawed about it. Eventually, he just decided it was something I needed, that I no longer had a choice, and that dammit I was going to do this program. So, essentially, the program is about teaching you to understand self and understand how to harness your God-given power into something manifest in the world. And how to be a Black man.
Anyway, I did the program for about 7 years and at the end of the program is the big crossover ceremony which takes place in Ghana. I was excited to go and they put us through a lot to get there. So, me, the Babas, and the other four gentlemen (down from at one point 6) that I was crossing over with, and other folks from the church, said our goodbyes to friends at family at Dulles Airport in June 2005 and boarded the plane for Africa.
The trip lasted about 12 days and we ended up in Ghana, Ethiopia, and Nigeria (it was just a layover though). The actual physical crossover ceremony was on the beach in Ghana. It was dark but beautiful. The surf pounding. The waves crashing. The moonlight gently skimming across the waters. We were lead blindfolded around the beach up, over, through, and around many obstacles. During this exercise, all we had was each other and all we needed was God. As we marched along the beach and eventually into the water itself, we continued to chant aloud, “God is in me, through me, and around me. And where God is there can be no imperfection.” And we made it through. We crossed over into manhood. And at first, I was like, “Yeah, we made it!” But I realized that I still didn’t feel like a man. There was part of me that still hadn’t quite crossed over. A part of me that didn’t truly realize where I was or what I had done. Throughout the trip, there were many emotional points for me- visiting the El Mina slave dungeons, seeing the churches in Lalibela, interacting with the youth; but, honestly, nothing hit me more than coming back home and looking around and really seeing how blessed and fortunate I am to have had the experiences that I have had.
One of the things we discussed at the YP4 Conference, ad nauseam, was the concept of privilege and how many kinds of privilege there are that go unnoticed. Most of the things that we listed were material or physical qualities, such as wealth, status, whiteness, maleness, stuff we had no control over; but, the most important privilege is that of experience and first-hand knowledge.
The Creator, whomever you pray to when shit hits the fan, has a unique design for each and every one of our lives that is inescapable. The uniqueness of each of us gives each of us our own culture lensing and vehicle through which to attack to the ills of this society. The things that I’ve experienced, no matter how much I tell you about them, will never be your experiences, and vice versa. No two people have done the exact same activities in the exact same way ever. I think that that individuality gets lost in the overall sauce, and that’s one of my biggest gripes with global society. It’s not that there aren’t enough cooks in the kitchen, there are bit too many if you ask me, but there aren’t enough spices being added to get the real flavor. America is too worried about its cultural stew tasting bad, so it chucks a few seasonings, such as poverty, homosexuality, racial tensions, and domestic violence, to make it palatable to the world. So they can say, “Hey, it’s working for us over here. Why don’t you try it our way?” What America needs to realize is that the reason the stew tastes bad is because you stir it with deceit and hate. It has nothing to do with the spices.
But we as the seasonings need to be aware of each other and how each of us affecting the pot. I was conversing with both another YP4 fellow and my supervisor about Asian American issues, which I barely was aware of. As we conversed, I brought up elements of what the other had discussed just to make sure that the information I was getting was consistent. And I came to realize that there is a lot more oppression out there- socio-economically, sexually, cultural, emotionally, intellectually, and psychologically- than I had realized and honestly cared to realize. Ignorance is bliss. Whoever said it was absolutely right. If you don’t know it’s there, then you can’t be concerned by it; but the moment, the tarp is pulled off of what you thought was that shiny Bentley GT Continental only to be revealed as that ‘72 Gremlin you had been dreading, you can’t unsee it. You can’t undo this disappointment. You can’t leave it unnoticed anymore. You will always see it for what it is, no matter what someone else tells you.
(I know this has been a long, long, long message. And you’re probably tired of reading, but bare with me for another paragraph please. )
The message is entitled “An Ode to My Ancestors” for a reason. I know I went off on what appeared to be tangents several times; but it’s all interconnected. If you don’t get anything else out of this please realize that every action in the world is interconnected on some level and in some form or fashion. I just want to give sincere honor and thanks the Creator for bringing me into this moment to be the man that at I am and leader that I am becoming. Your lineage, your ancestry did not happen by happenstance. It took all those generations of people to create you, to create this moment.
I am thankful to all of my ancestors for giving me the gifts that I am able to share and express to the world. Yes, I know this is just a small little note or blog on a website; but this is an expression of who I am and what I was born to do and I am so thankful for the opportunity to do it. We don’t take the time to truly be thankful for the gifts we have been given. And if I never type another word, breathe another breath, I am thankful. I am just so thankful to everything that happened and didn’t happen in my life and my ancestors’ lives to make this possible. If you keep that spirit in your heart, there’s no room for hung heads or sullenness, only for excellence. Thank you!
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