This weekend has been such a blur. It's amazing how sometimes people think celebrities are untouchable to some things and then before you know it, they are gone. I remember the first time I saw Thriller when I was about 6 or 7 years old, and I was terrified. Seeing the walking dead after all those folk stories my mom and pops told me-not cool. But it wasn't until I looked back on the video and really appreciated how crazy and awesome the whole concept of it was. Michael Jackson was in fact...a revolutionary genius.
But I was thinking about it this weekend, and realized that with that genius, came the inevitable craziness that slips in between the cracks. Think about it. You have Thelonious Monk, Kurt Cobain, Janis Joplin, and hundreds of other musical 'geniuses' and icons who all found themselves straddling the world of creative genius and losing touch with themselves and the world. Drugs, Drink, the media, and of course the need to top themselves all got the better part of them.
Especially MJ. I was talking to a friend on facebook the other day who messaged me this:
"No one thought that he would die from heart problems. I always thought he would get eaten by a whale or ride off with a unicorn into the sunset. but never this. Well. that's what happens when the black man makes himself white, has white babies, and takes on white values. He dies before his time. The universe is trying to put things back in order."
And to be quite honest and fair, I agree to some extent. So driven by the need to best himself and pretend he was something he wasn't, mixed in with a childhood that really was anything but, Jackson lost who he was and struggled really hard to find himself. But it didn't quite happen, since he was forever giving himself away and didn't have real people to tell him that he was doing wrong and to help him out. As my sister says "You can't give yourself that way because people will find every way to kill you".
I take this as a lesson to know who you're true crew is made up of, and to not give yourself away like candy and stay true to yourself, no matter how hard.
Side note: is it wrong that me and my sister joked about Michael being outlived by not only Elizabeth Taylor....but William Shatner too? (Yeah??? Too soon??)
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
How I learned to stop worrying about how my glasses fit and how loud I snort...
I've been working on my summer research the past few days, and I can honestly say, being a geek is great. I guess I have to first clue you in on what my research is on. Basically, I want to examine how the art of storytelling and Griot (A West African storyteller and poet/singer) traditions create spaces to challenge community and cultural politics. Nifty right??? I think so...
So while reading (which I am doing so much of by the way) about I had a geek-out moment. I got really excited about the implications of performative arts and narratives intersect with cultural and identity politics AND how these ideas are negotiated in literary theories. (Okay. Yes I just pushed up my glasses. Proudly I might add...). So yeah...there goes that.
But I was talking with Jack Skelton earlier, the quasi LGBTQ Community Coordinator at Oberlin (who's leavng...*tear*), and we were talking about activism and how Third World House ( Where I will be RA...wootwoot!) would be a great base to house some of the current activism on campus that has been taking place. Which is exciting, because in terms of how the house is viewed (as a safe space for LGBT Queer and Questioning, Trans, POC, Low-income, allies, and anyone identifying as part of a marginalized community), those identities and mission as a safe space would be reaffirmed and re-energized so to speak. As of late, the house for me seemed to slack in terms of supporting it's own agenda, and with alot of the upper classmen (make that all of upper classmen with the exception of me) leaving the house, that kind of motivation is hard to come by, so it would be awesome for the incoming first years to see good, solid politics in action, and thus feel motivated to become active in the community. (whew. taking a breath...) All this said though...I'm really nervous about being an RA. But more on that later.
Okay. Yesterday was also Father's Day, and so I called my papi and wished all my uncles the same. I miss my papi and his dry-ass humor...which is drier than a martini. It's clearly where I got it from...
Note of the day: Steel guitar strings hurt. BUT...so worth it. I'm trying to put some chords together at this point from what I know to a song I wrote a while back. This should be fun. Maybe when it sounds decent I'll put it up.
My bad this is so long. But whatever.
So while reading (which I am doing so much of by the way) about I had a geek-out moment. I got really excited about the implications of performative arts and narratives intersect with cultural and identity politics AND how these ideas are negotiated in literary theories. (Okay. Yes I just pushed up my glasses. Proudly I might add...). So yeah...there goes that.
But I was talking with Jack Skelton earlier, the quasi LGBTQ Community Coordinator at Oberlin (who's leavng...*tear*), and we were talking about activism and how Third World House ( Where I will be RA...wootwoot!) would be a great base to house some of the current activism on campus that has been taking place. Which is exciting, because in terms of how the house is viewed (as a safe space for LGBT Queer and Questioning, Trans, POC, Low-income, allies, and anyone identifying as part of a marginalized community), those identities and mission as a safe space would be reaffirmed and re-energized so to speak. As of late, the house for me seemed to slack in terms of supporting it's own agenda, and with alot of the upper classmen (make that all of upper classmen with the exception of me) leaving the house, that kind of motivation is hard to come by, so it would be awesome for the incoming first years to see good, solid politics in action, and thus feel motivated to become active in the community. (whew. taking a breath...) All this said though...I'm really nervous about being an RA. But more on that later.
Okay. Yesterday was also Father's Day, and so I called my papi and wished all my uncles the same. I miss my papi and his dry-ass humor...which is drier than a martini. It's clearly where I got it from...
Note of the day: Steel guitar strings hurt. BUT...so worth it. I'm trying to put some chords together at this point from what I know to a song I wrote a while back. This should be fun. Maybe when it sounds decent I'll put it up.
My bad this is so long. But whatever.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
So this is what happens after the rain clouds....funny
It thundered like crazy early this morning (by early I mean at like...1:30am), which I usually tend to admire, really got me down. Which was unexpected. It was even one of those really loud, sky-brightening type storms that makes your heart kinda heave a little bit.
I guess it just reminded a lot of where I was at the end of my sophomore year. Not to get all nitty grity....but basically I was just really unsure of what I was doing (which rarely happens...okay sometimes happens), and who I was and where I fit in. So I guess that's why I spent so much of my time working and essentially hiding from people, and bouncing from project to project, thinking that if I submerged myself in activisms of all sorts, academics and organizations, I'd find something that would make me feel...whole for lack of a better term. Like somehow I'd be able to just feel like I meant something somewhere.
Instead, I just ended up overworked, overstressed, overstretched and overused. I started forgetting what my politics were, like what I wanted and needed to be doing for my communities, started forgetting that I had something important to say, and started to forget what it felt like to be happy and satisfied with something I did. And most of all, I stopped writing. Anything and everything.
There are days when I sometimes forget where I fit in, and what I'm trying to say, and there are days where I feel like I was put together in the "right" way. And then there are days like today, where I have to spend some time remembering what everything is about. And just go slow.
I guess it just reminded a lot of where I was at the end of my sophomore year. Not to get all nitty grity....but basically I was just really unsure of what I was doing (which rarely happens...okay sometimes happens), and who I was and where I fit in. So I guess that's why I spent so much of my time working and essentially hiding from people, and bouncing from project to project, thinking that if I submerged myself in activisms of all sorts, academics and organizations, I'd find something that would make me feel...whole for lack of a better term. Like somehow I'd be able to just feel like I meant something somewhere.
Instead, I just ended up overworked, overstressed, overstretched and overused. I started forgetting what my politics were, like what I wanted and needed to be doing for my communities, started forgetting that I had something important to say, and started to forget what it felt like to be happy and satisfied with something I did. And most of all, I stopped writing. Anything and everything.
There are days when I sometimes forget where I fit in, and what I'm trying to say, and there are days where I feel like I was put together in the "right" way. And then there are days like today, where I have to spend some time remembering what everything is about. And just go slow.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Lessons in love or something like that....
I was having a conversation with a friend of mine recently who is in a pickle so to speak....she has been in a relationship for about two years (to my knowledge) and recently has started having feelings for a co worker, who coincidentally is in a relationship and may have feelings for her. She asked me for my thoughts and I told her from my limited knowledge...that she should be honest with herself. Of course I feel like I didn't really help her much, but we talked about what it means to be honest with yourself in a situation where other parties are involved, and what you need to do for yourself...
So after having thought about about it, and all of my past what-cha-ma-call its (and luckily without being too bitter!:-P!), I wonder exactly what is this concept of love we always find ourselves talking about. Is it really that bubbly feeling we say it is when we see that "somebody"? Or is it a kind of 'craziness' that gradually takes over where you forget a little bit of who you were from the start, and just don't want to be or feel alone? Or is it really political- like you make a statement about what you do and who you do it with, and what you believe in? Sometimes I think it's an amalgam of all three, and then some. Like we are trying to make a statement to ourselves and everyone else we know about ourselves, our partner, etc., like "hey...I got me somebody who is x, y, and z". Sometimes it's not as political as it seems, sometimes it is. Lately I've been finding myself somewhere along those lines. By this I mean that when I "love", it is about that half-empty feeling you get when you are sprung for somebody...but at the same time for me it's about being a bit true to who I am and to my politics, which is understandable in terms of my politics on being black, queer, and female. Cause for me, all of those are identities for me have different forms of love, and so I guess I'm just trying to figure out how to make all of them work. Even if they don't seem like they do. For me, love is the political, it's all how you look at it...
So after having thought about about it, and all of my past what-cha-ma-call its (and luckily without being too bitter!:-P!), I wonder exactly what is this concept of love we always find ourselves talking about. Is it really that bubbly feeling we say it is when we see that "somebody"? Or is it a kind of 'craziness' that gradually takes over where you forget a little bit of who you were from the start, and just don't want to be or feel alone? Or is it really political- like you make a statement about what you do and who you do it with, and what you believe in? Sometimes I think it's an amalgam of all three, and then some. Like we are trying to make a statement to ourselves and everyone else we know about ourselves, our partner, etc., like "hey...I got me somebody who is x, y, and z". Sometimes it's not as political as it seems, sometimes it is. Lately I've been finding myself somewhere along those lines. By this I mean that when I "love", it is about that half-empty feeling you get when you are sprung for somebody...but at the same time for me it's about being a bit true to who I am and to my politics, which is understandable in terms of my politics on being black, queer, and female. Cause for me, all of those are identities for me have different forms of love, and so I guess I'm just trying to figure out how to make all of them work. Even if they don't seem like they do. For me, love is the political, it's all how you look at it...
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Personal and public politics....
True to my word....here is the song. It's entitled Cries of the Children. Granted....this song is specific to the hurricanes that hit Haiti, not the aid in Ethiopia, but the message is all the same. The cries for help that still get left unheard.
(Pas gan ou moun ki vle ede'mwen= There isn't anyone to wants to help me)
(Pas gan ou moun ki vle ede'mwen= There isn't anyone to wants to help me)
They tell us that we are wicked.
Nothing but heathens with the dust of magic under our nails.
That we were meant to have our hands washed clean.
They say that we deserved it.
For the debt that we have is bigger to them than is to God.
Pas gan on moun ki vle ede’mwen. (x4)
Nothing but heathens with the dust of magic under our nails.
That we were meant to have our hands washed clean.
They say that we deserved it.
For the debt that we have is bigger to them than is to God.
Pas gan on moun ki vle ede’mwen. (x4)
The flesh and the blood of the ones I love are gone.
Swept by the tide and the tears that were shed.
Can’t nobody hear the cries of the children.
Screaming for mothers and fathers to carry them back.
From the shores you see the faces of friends
But from miles you see nothing but shame.
And as the gangs start running and ruling the streets
Across the sea the lighter children fall asleep.
Pas gan on moun ki vle ede’mwen. (x4)
The children are starving.
And the elders are dying.
Cause there is no one to save the child
The child who would continue the line.
The homes we were building were gone by tonight
And still there is no one to help shine the light.
And it seems so many people have lost their lives.
But nobody came to give us hope, and we are too tired
To find anymore.
Pas gan on moun ki vle ede’mwen. (x4)
Where is The Man who says that he cares?
The debt’s not been paid, so this is all you gon’ get.
Ravaged for more then 200 hundred years,
Weren’t we the place that started the fall?
The fall of the masters and the rise of the slaves.
But what happened today?
Struggling to survive when the price is so high,
And prayers don’t get answered for a very long time.
Wishing for better but only getting worse.
Counting the days when the world will give nothing.
Pas gan on moun ki vle ede’mwen. (x4)
Don’t nobody want to come and get their hands dirty
So they shield their eyes from the strife and poverty.
There’s no going back, not with trouble so close
Banging on your door and breathing on your neck.
Somebody come and save these poor souls.
Cause God is too tired to answer our calls alone.
Our feet are so weary from the hard long walk.
Pas gan on moun ki vle ede’mwen. (x4)
You see the cries of the children are heard no more
Because the sound of the waves drowns them out. (repeat bridge 2 twice)
You see the cries of the children are heard no more
Because the crash of the buildings covers there mouths.
You see the cries of the children. Yes it’s the cries of the children. (x4)
Personal and public politics....
I helped weed a community vegetable/garden plot earlier this morning and noticed how I finally realized that I'm pretty okay with where I am in life right now. Or rather what is happening in it. In theory or course. Keeping up with the practice is harder than expected.
I can play (SLOWLY I might add) Tracy Chapman's The Wedding Song (one of my favorites) on Gaia, my gender-neutral guitar (woohoo for Oberlin terms...). I soon hope to start playing the song Devotion .... I haven't been this excited since the first time I saw Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when I was little. Oh the memories....
So I was checking my email and got an invitation from someone I really did not expect to the Cleveland Pride Celebration this coming Saturday. I've been hearing from many good people that I should go...for myself that is, and because it's fun. I haven't quite decided yet if I should go.
I can play (SLOWLY I might add) Tracy Chapman's The Wedding Song (one of my favorites) on Gaia, my gender-neutral guitar (woohoo for Oberlin terms...). I soon hope to start playing the song Devotion .... I haven't been this excited since the first time I saw Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when I was little. Oh the memories....
So I was checking my email and got an invitation from someone I really did not expect to the Cleveland Pride Celebration this coming Saturday. I've been hearing from many good people that I should go...for myself that is, and because it's fun. I haven't quite decided yet if I should go.
Also while checking my email, I read the following article from my daily BBC news feed about the UN 'runs out of food for Ethiopia'. It's amazing and so interesting to me how we as a country can continue to talk about our own worries and unfortunes (not to say that they don't matter but really now....), when we still have member of our community like Ethiopia who have had starving refugees for months, and no "help". It is absurd to believe that there is no one to assist. I can't do much, but it still doesn't hurt to care. But I digress-even though it's good information to know.
I want to post a song I wrote when I was reading the news about the third or fourth hurricane that hit Haiti (my ancestors 'ma dit sak pase' !!!- that's 'i say how are you' roughly in kreyol) in Fall 2008, but sadly I am not at my labtop which has the song. But I will post it soon. The basically talks about the politics of trying to survive natural and outside disasters without anyone to hear the voices of the community. You may like, you may not, fine by me...
Hopefully this whole guitar playing thing with work out nicely....so I can start a revolution and tour with Tracy. Big dreams have to start somewhere....
For anyone who wants to listen to the songs I'm talking about, here are some youtube links:
Tracy Chapman's Devotion (off of the album Telling Stories; please ignore the Stargate SG-1 montage- unless you like the show):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rBTZP64eoHc
Tracy Chapman's The Wedding Song ( Same album) : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehpcp1kAcR8&feature=related
BBC link:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8103355.stm
Monday, June 15, 2009
Okay. I guess today was a day of firsts...
So as of now I have just entered the world of blogging. It's weird.
But I did it on the insistence of one of my closet friends (thank you very much PonyBoy!!! I didn't know you wanted to be put on blast so I quasi did...) who also coincidentally thinks I am repressed and don't call enough, which is true. It's not my fault, honest. Sometimes the concept of using a phone really frightens me. Seriously. I don't think you can joke about being scared of a telephone.
Since this is a "day of firsts", I guess I should write about how I brought my first acoustic guitar today also. (Okay...so the real story is that I inherited one from my sister who played it maybe twice and I stole it from her. *shrug*) It is beautiful, which I am proud to say. It is a Mitchell MD100 for those of you who are guitar-savvy. (I'm not honest....but I'm working on it). It is mostly made of mahogany which is some pretty nice wood. I went into the store looking for a completely different guitar all together, but sometimes life has a way of giving you a curve, so it all worked out. Lately, I have really missed playing what little guitar I know, and have really missed writing all together. This blog may in fact be one of those life curves I talked about...you know...when you expect one thing and get something you seriously did not ask for. Like that bad Christmas or birthday present. Anyway, I'm hoping to get really good, and finally accompany the songs I write with some tunes. (Sweet...I'm a Rock star....okay no. Not really. Not even a little bit.)
I also start my first day at a day camp tomorrow here in Oberlin, where I'm doing my summer research, so that should be fun. Lots of little white humans ---err---I mean children running around. That should be fun. (On the real though I love kids. All kinds. Especially brown and black ones.) I am going to help teach West African drumming and dance. Again...should be lots of fun.
Okay...this may be enough for now...considering I have to get up early and do the day camp and research and all...
Inspiration of the day:
Tracy Chapman
Soft Melodies
Home-made funnel cake
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