Monthly Archives: September 2014

education, enlightenment, social consciousness

Blacksmiths

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The room is dark and grim. Upon entry, there’s an immediate rise in body temperature; beads of sweat appear about the forehead and nose.  Tools of the trade suspend all about the structure; a furnace emits an enormous amount of heat which aids in the creative process. When discussing the importance of the blacksmith, the mind reverts to an era of mythology; dragons and knights; smalls towns during the age of colonialism in the New World; the “Wild West”; Scotland and England during the middle ages; where young boys concealed themselves behind inanimate objects spying the “smithy” performing their tasks.  A blacksmith is charged with creating objects from wrought iron or steel by forging the metal, using tools to hammer, bend and cut. In the annals of history, the blacksmith constructed weapons to slay potential foes; fabricated iron to furnish homes and be used as accessories.  Today, those traits are used in other facets by the populous at large.

As adults, we are responsible for forging the minds of the youth. The information we provide them, through music, television, speech and literature, fuel the furnaces of their brain. It’s negligence on the part of parents to place that burden on teachers in the school system, under the assumption that they are solely liable for enhancing the knowledge of our children.  The sparks that fly from each strike of the mallet to form the personality of a child have equal importance to their overall development. The cinders and ash that land and mark your skin are a result of the failures and difficulties that are met when faced with the adversity when instilling morals and values. Parents manufacture the weapons that are used by their children to combat the metaphorical demons and dragons that life often places in their child’s path. Their ability to use those instruments contributes to the level of success they may achieve.  Gold, silver and cooper are all metals that are used by the blacksmith to craft beautiful trinkets and items placed on display for the world to adore; ironically, they’re the same items that society is taught to attain to have measureable success in the eyes of many.  What’s made in the confines of those shops (homes) can’t simply be discarded and deemed unusable; all the finished works which hang on hooks throughout the structure are lessons which foster levels of triumph. Frustrations are released through the flue of the chimney; the sulfur that litters the floor are the remnants of bad habits which have been deposited and removed in exchange for behavior that’s more amenable.  Through it all, the “smithy” remains undeterred and unrewarded; aware that the grueling days and long hours are well worth the compensation that’ll be received for a lifetime of accomplishments if all of their labors are reciprocated and lessons passed down to future generations by their children or those under their care.  And as the steam emanates into the atmosphere, and the tools of tutelage are cooled under the rushing waters of parenthood or mentorship, all that can be asked after placing your apron upon a hanger and wiping your brow is, was it a job well done on my behalf? Be there for the youth to assist in forging a lifespan of achievements.  Blacksmiths united.  “We Are The Change!”  I’m gone! (b)

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enlightenment, social consciousness

Drive In Theatre

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Play this as you read the post. This blog was inspired by Curren$y’s mixtape with the same title. Low volume preferred.

It’s the weekend… and family time is in order. A sitter has been procured to watch the children; they’ve been fed; and instructions have been left as to what’s expected when bedtime arrives.  After a long work week, ROR has been recommended and a night of entertainment and dining are the slated activities.  With both parties refreshed, fully clothed and smelling good, the only decision remaining is what will be viewed at the cinema.  After reviewing several movie locations to find out what featured films will be showing, a conclusion is drawn to “take it back to the old school” and go to the drive-in.  Entry and the ability to pay for food will be much more cost efficient and being comfortable is a premium that can’t be denied.  Besides, the windows are tinted on the luxury vehicle and who knows, a little “hanky panky” may take place; foreign eyes need not be invited to that escapade.

And they’re off! An adult beverage is had by both to remove the edge of a long, trying day. For him, cognac made neat; she has vodka and cranberry, as it reduces her inhibitions.  Upon their arrival, the movie is agreed upon, the proper radio frequency is selected, the front seats are pushed forward and they cuddle in the back seat.  The characters in the featured film are all too familiar; though the eras differ the plot remains the same.  And as the opening credits roll and the title flashes across the screen, the words, sounds and images no longer matter; they’re mute.  The characteristic of each individual have been predetermined.  The people of color will be either killed first when faced with horror, the comic relief, savages or depicted by their “criminal nature”.  All others are the heroes or heroines and when the closing credits roll, they would’ve done something to shock the conscious or entice the viewer to wish they had those same attributes.

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In real life, there’s no director yelling “Lights, camera, action”; no trailers to return to when a scene doesn’t fair well to refresh and regroup; no stunt double to replace you when you’re designated to take a hard fall, be involved in an accident or be murdered in a violent fashion. Everything is performed in real time; no filters or adjustments.  The media plays a profound part in public perception.  They single handedly control the minds of the masses.  They can build an individual up to receive sympathy and public support, or vilify that same person and have them at the doorstep of purgatory.  In a flash, the news coverage went from wall to wall Mike Brown, police harassment, Ferguson, Missouri, to domestic violence and child abuse.  And in each of these instances, the featured characters are those of color.  And when public sentiment was at its peak, the plot heightened and it was thought that the ending would be different from that of Oscar Grant, Trayvon Martin, Jordan Davis, Emmit Till and a slew of others, the media without hesitation focused their attention back to that of Ray Rice and now Adrian Peterson.  Ray Rice’s initial incident occurred during the month of February; he appeared in court and was punished by the NFL.  However, when new video surfaced of the same incident, he faced double jeopardy, and was again punished; this time more severely for a crime he already committed.  (The cuddling has stopped and now patrons are at the edge of their seats.  The straw can no longer consume the liquid that was once in the cup and all that can be heard is a slurping noise as the inhalation can’t draw sustenance.)  For Peterson, his crime can be credited to psychological embedment.  Since the 1600s, the cracking of the whip was as synonymous with those brought here from the banks of West Africa as the word “nigger”.  The whip was used as a form of punishment; discipline. How could it not be passed from generation to generation when it was instrumental in instilling fear in the hearts of those it was used to enslave?  And now, there are faces associated with domestic violence and child abuse.  The images are of Ray Rice and Jonathan Dwyer.  One almost forgets that Mel Gibson and Nicholas Cage also had similar incidents, and their names have much more prestige.  The cases of Hope Solo and Kelly Brooks are easily forgotten when placed side by side against their male counterparts.  In the case of Brooks’, she admitted to punching both of her past boyfriends in the face, wrote a book about her transgressions and laughs about it when questioned.

As the couple leaves the venue, they were well aware of how the story would end. Like so many pieces, the predictable outcome doesn’t leave the viewers unsatisfied; for them it’s just a night of enjoyment.  In life, although the script can be rewritten to change the conclusion, most people choose to leave everything status quo, play their roles and be the subsidiaries to those that are willing to “rock the boat” and alter the consequence.  As with the events taking place today, like a wrestling match, the ending is foreseeable.  People of color are regulated to the role of heel, while everyone else basks in the glory of holding the championship belt.  They’re engulfed by the applause while the villain is showered with boos.  There’s no drawn out kisses or music reaching a crescendo highlighting a historic, heroic end; only misery and suffering.  Ask Danny Glover how troubling it is to fund a film where people of color are the heroes and “whites” have no bearing on the finish other than being the ones that are being overrun by those being oppressed (the film was to be based on Francois Dominique Toussaint Louverture [1743-1803], a former slave and one of the fathers of Haiti’s independence from France in 1804, making it the first black nation to throw off imperial rule and become a republic).  The drive home from the night’s outing isn’t one of depression; when you’re oblivious to your circumstance, the conversation revolves around the value had involving precious time spent with each other.  The sitter is paid their fee; the couple undresses and prepares for a night’s sleep.  When the sun rises again, the previous night will be a distance memory and the rigors of the day begins anew. While some strive to change the landscape placed before them, the large majority continue to like things the way they are.  And that’s fine if you enjoy the screenplay composed of your life preordained from birth to death; however, if you’re unhappy with the actors playing the role of your character in your own life, the only person that can fire the staff and change the result is you.  Flip the script! Popcorn please! “We Are The Change!”  I’m gone! (b)

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enlightenment, love, social consciousness

Solar Return

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“When I was young, I’m trying to tell you I was dying to get old

Dying to escape the chill when the weather was cold

When I graduated from school, diploma dying to hold

Dying to sell a million records so I could travel the globe

But now I’m dying…” (b) – When My Day Comes

When I wrote that verse in the year 2000 and up until now, that’s one of the realest rhymes I had ever written (the entire verse). It was meant to be rapped off of Nas’ song “Purple” off of the mixtape titled “The Lost Tapes”. The hook went, “When the day comes along and I die, don’t cry for me.” It was both a literal and figurative explanation as to what I was experiencing in life from adolescence until that point. It detailed my desire to grow older and reach maturity; when the weather reached a specific temperature, my desire was to seek warmth to escape Jack Frost; being anxious to graduate from both high school and college in pursuit of life’s new adventures; and during my rap career, my desire to be successful and reap the rewards of being a well renowned artist.  But taking into account that with the inhalation of every breath I was literally dying, which is true in all aspects.  From the time we exit the womb of our mothers and come out of the fetal position, the stop watch begins for our eventual meeting with the Grim Reaper. It is our hope to live long and fulfilling lives; however circumstances beyond our control can extinguish those dreams and thoughts prematurely.  At the point when those bars were written, and at many points in my life, I was at the crossroads between heaven and hell.

Have you ever been dehydrated and thirsty? Just think about that feeling when it pertains to life and your existence. Just like attempting to quench that thirst, think about constantly wondering what your purpose is in life.  For all your intellect and accomplishments, you feel empty and unsatisfied.  As my Solar Return Day arrives I am ravaged with fatigue. I grow tired of this existence and seek more from life. In the past when my birthday arrived I would celebrate with libations and endless partying. The celebration wouldn’t stop until I stated the festivities were over.  As I’ve grown older, I interrogate myself; trying to ascertain if my new found growth and frequency elevation coincide with society today. For all the family and friends I’ve accumulated over the years, I struggle to understand why I feel so alone.  As the saying goes, some people are here for a reason, others for a season.  For all the words spoken, the lack of action proves paramount.  In scripture, Solomon asked the Lord thy God for wisdom and was granted that and so much more because with wisdom comes sound decision making which leads to success and abundance.  Since I was old enough to read and understand the Bible that’s all I’ve ever prayed for. We all crave the spotlight; the riches that comes with being atop of our chosen professions; acceptance and respect from our peers.  I too desire those things but for different reasons. My sole purpose now is to enlighten those within my reach. I’d be lying if I didn’t want to be popular and well known. But I hunger for that only to use it for the purposes of helping others; no more.  I’ve hung out with drug dealers and trigger chokers; taken an oath of silence and vowed never to reveal the secrets of the compass & square; and to that end the void has grown more massive between myself and the souls surrounding me.  And for those that think my efforts are self-serving, they are far from knowing the essence of me.

From the posting of this blog, I will have 86,400 seconds to celebrate the sun and earth aligning in the precise position which summoned the exit from my mother’s womb. And for those now forty-three (43) years, there has been an ongoing, raging battle for my soul. And during that time, there have been junctures that were the determining factor between life and death. In college, it was Monica Paige who first saved me from the brink of destruction; she will never know how much I appreciate and cherish our friendship. She was the first to display what being a “friend” was all about. Then it was my cousin Byron Kendrick. After the death of his brother, I was charged with ensuring that anything he needed, support, an attentive ear, a helping hand, my duty was to be there for him. But as the calendar changed from year to year, it was more that I needed him than vice-versa.  Unbeknownst to him, he kept me alive; every time I wanted to give up, I’d think of him and what he endured losing his older sibling, and didn’t want to disappoint him by no longer being there. I had to be an example as to why you shouldn’t give up even when the odds are stacked against you.  Lastly, my daughter is my shining light in this chasm of darkness.  I so desperately want her to achieve greater heights than I was ever able to.  I don’t want her dreams to be deterred by the opinions of others.  She needs her father and I need her to keep me going.  If you were to follow me on social media, were to read my previous blogs and posts, and didn’t truly understand my persona, I know it could appear that I’m standoffish and conceited. That’s never my intent.  My sole purpose is be a better person and share whatever information I can to enhance the lives of others; nothing more.  Life, like the waters of the Gulf of Mexico, ebbs and flows.  High tide is signified by the elation of life’s successes; low tide is symbolized by your failures and inability to overcome them.  I only exist to spread love and information; not to be better than anyone as I struggle to be a better man daily while staring at the reflection in the mirror.  September 15th to many is just another day; in some aspects I began feeling that way also. Despite my best efforts I didn’t think my voice was ever being heard. However, through my existence, if I’m able to change one opinion; get one person to think and decide that they too would like to make a difference in society, then my effort wasn’t in vain.  I’ve made my share of mistakes; in my quest to be the perfect man, son, father, husband, employee, etc., I discovered my desire for perfection only magnified my faults; which in turn has made me a better person.  My promise to those of you reading this, the font that jumps off the page of my writings; my voice heard via the internet; anything I ever do will be 100% authentic, genuine and sincere.  I have no one to impress; I live for those that I’ve previously mentioned, honor those that want the same in return and respect those that aspire to change the world. I love you all! Happy Birthday to me.  I will now have the song below play on an endless loop as I sip cognac and plot on how to further my growth and development. Listen to the instruments as the song reaches its climax; the melodic tone of the featured artist voice as she closes. “Smoking Champagne!” Namaste!  “We Are The Change!”  I’m gone! (b)

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enlightenment, social consciousness

Reality Versus The Revolution

A few weeks ago, an up and coming, prominent online publication solicited its viewers/readers, offering them an opportunity to write for their periodical. The criteria for the position included it being non-paying, the expectation of writing daily posts on sports and sports entertainment [minimum of five (5) stories daily], and that the writers social media spaces be professional at ALL time.  I submitted my application and advised the company from the beginning of my beliefs and everything I was attempting to accomplish with my personal and business endeavors.  In response, I received correspondence thanking me for my inquiry but to maintain a professional decorum with their corporate sponsors, someone of my thought process would not be beneficial to their growth and expansion.  And therein lies the rub. When does standing by your principles hinder you from enjoying opportunities that could advance your career aspirations or sustain life?

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And thus the quandary, which has been the problem that has been posed to those that are willing to make life altering decisions. And many times those sacrifices are unheralded and unrewarded. Revolutions are a cause of individuals or infrastructures being fed up with the status quo; tiring of being neglected, abused and taken advantage of.  It’s the yearning for a society or ideal that represents fairness on all levels.  In scripture it’s the exodus of the Hebrews by Moses from Egypt; it’s the thirteen (13) colonies rebelling from the tyranny of England; Nat Turner leading the rebellion in Southampton County, Virginia against their oppressors; the Montgomery bus boycott and the Civil Rights Movement. The smallest gesture can make the largest impact.  Who would’ve thought Tommie Smith’s and John Carlos’ singular motion of raising their fists symbolizing “Black Power” would’ve endured the test of time and forever be the signature moment of the 1968 Summer Olympic Games; the death of Crispus Attucks which sparked the beginning of the Revolutionary War; the deportation of Elian Gonzalez and the discord it created in the South Florida area.  It was these moments and many more that galvanized the populous and enabled the uprising of consciousness at any given time.  And with September 8th looming, being dubbed as Black Out Monday, the Fast Food Strike beginning on September 4th and the outcry of racial fairness of all kinds as a result of the death of Mike Brown in Ferguson, Missouri, an awakening has begun in the United States Republic and has been felt around the globe.  During the World Cup this year past, demonstrations were held as a result of the homelessness levels rising in the country of Brazil to make accommodations for tourists and disenfranchising of their own countrymen; there has been the Occupy Wall Street movement and many others.  The world has grown intolerant of those in positions of prominence manipulating the public like Geppetto controlling Pinocchio at his whim. The time has arrived where the people have decided to fight back; be it wages, class, race or religion.

Albeit an excellent opportunity to get exposure for my brand and other endeavors, I regret not the choices that I’ve made to become the person you see before you today.  I understand missed opportunities are a consequence of going against conventional thinking and trailblazing new paths.  The question must be asked, as a result of the incidents that I’ve previously named, what were the outcomes? The results aren’t always visible at the onset, it’s merely a matter of when people are pushed to their limits, are they willing to stand up for what’s tried and true. The threat in and of itself is enough to make a difference.  If you gave your spouse an ultimatum to treat you better or face the possibility of appearing in court for divorce proceedings, would things change, even for an unverifiable period of time? If you were the top employee at your company and informed the adminstration you were preparing to leave for a better opportunity; would they be complicit to your demands of fairer treatment and a competitive salary?  Workers demanding equal compensation and apartment tenants demanding adequate housing to fulfill their needs; it’s all relative. The difference doesn’t necessary come as a result of the action; it comes as a result of being willing to take said action. Though we live in the Information Age, where all the data we need is merely fingertips away, it appears as if the “REVOLUTION” will not be televised, as “some” people aren’t willing to put themselves in positions where taking a risk is better for society at large.  Be willing to make a difference!  “We Are The Change!”  I’m gone! (b)