JAM Aiwuyor Black Artist Spotlight

Abandonment In A Storm

Abandonment In A Storm
 By Vivian Dixon Sober

I lay in bed in a deep sleep well into the night, or early morning after midnight.  Suddenly awakened by a moving force starting inches below my belly button but creeping toward my esophagus slamming my air canal shut tightly like steel doors that couldn’t be opened.  My legs ached and I knew death had come for me.   “Let me take you to the hospital,”  daughter asked softly.”  She had come to spend the night with me, slept in the same bed with me; awoke simultaneously with me.  Knowing I’d never make it to the hospital, I said call 911.  I will save her from the realization of my death.  I ran outside to die as I did not want to die in the house.   Looking up, I thought, I can’t believe I died this way.  
I awoke confused.  It seemed like I was looking through a screen.  Drugged heavily I didn’t know it was me.  I breathe by machine.  With tubes down my throat and hands tied down–a mental hospital it had to be.  I spoke in complete sentences, though—I do believe.  Intensive care they call it. I see people staring at me.  I recognize one of them; why is my husband forcing me to watch science fiction it is not my scene.  I’d rather read my obituary as painful as it will be. 
Off the machine.  Peering in the mirror, I see the whites of my eyes; blood-red–no white at all.   I have no conception of time.  Where is my mind? 
Husband said, “He was there as a friend,” after, which, he abandoned me—emotionally–off with his kids and the child I, myself, bore but not before his kids knew their worth—they had drained the breath out of me.  I was hurt and lonely, but I could see the backstabbing users ’didn’t give a hoot about me.  They left me for dead and wouldn’t help me, instead, they including their father persecuted me.  All I wanted was a sparkling house, which I was too sick to achieve—those 3 kids lied on me, rejected me and 2 gave my mother-child dance to someone else at their graduation who did not help, did not support, or even take them there. 
I was good enough to raise his neglected kids; he destroyed the relationship I had built with them.  Now he has to protect them from me–the woman who raised them,  and  they stood  as four against me and watched as their father ranted and raved and called me names.  He put his kids before me.  The end I should have seen 
I hope you can see why I was in need.  With lack of oxygen to my brain, I wasn’t the same, but I prayed and I prayed and soon an angel came; two years or more he listened to me.  I needed him so desperately.  He rescued me and taught me many lessons I shall never forget.  I was down on my back looking up.   He talked me sensibly though this storm and helped me put fear behind, made me realize that I am alive and so is my mind, “Don’t believe what they say it’s not true. It will hinder you.” 
My mind in no shape for work, I went back to school, first angel is patient with wisdom backstabbing users will never receive as they are too busy trying to get rid of me–a negative experience, indeed, with positive results. People need people and sad to say, angel helped me up, and I don’t feel the same. 
Husband abandoned me in my time of need—with his thankless kids I, myself,  raised—good time wasted.  A pack of ingrates; I feel raped.  No one stopped to help those kids. Their family was too busy helping others and avoiding them as it was for too painful for them to grip–so you abandon your sister’s kids, and what happened to all of their friends?  Why did they run as though the kids had a gun?  I stepped up to the plate and accepted them with grace.  No one can raise them better than me.  My heart began to bleed, and now they can’t accept me. 
I hate my heart. I want one of steel, and then I can be cold and calculating  just like them.  Husband says he doesn’t feel the same—what am I suppose to say?  I’ve seen his play–close your eyes and you can’t see how you have humiliated me with your vicious scheme; watching TV and ignoring me emotionally. 
He left me when I was afraid to live. Yelled and screamed about everything I did and challenged my confidence in front of his three kids—which will end!  
I  was there for him in his time of need. I raised three kids and could have left him in the street.  He would be dead,  if I did to him, what he did to me. 
Thank you God for blessing me.  I’m up now and it’s a brand new day. I am up and well on my way. I don’t care if they stare at me.  I didn’t die.   I am Victorious in God’s eyes.  So when they stare at me, they see an eye full.  I’m what you call getting an eyeful. Their stares become glares, and who cares?   
I don’t need them to understand me.  They are not of my sort.  They abandoned me, and I found love in a special place.  Now!  I must identify I am a prisoner of my own deceits, and I will not obey because prison is not for me.  I will only be me.  That’s all I can be. 
Peering through the rearview, I see I was carried through my deluge.
I have come a long way, and must say, angels come in many ways.  Sometimes I wonder am I living life or is life living me for I am guided you see.   But angels can be people too. I know this to be true.  Human angels never kick you when you are down; they help you to get up when you want to drown, and they absolutely will not let you sit down 
Abandonment in a Storm something  I thought was the worst thing that ever happened to me turned out to be a blessing in disguise–’cause through it all–I want you to know; I saw you, I felt you; I know you; and I thank you.  I didn’t die.  I am Victorious in God’s eyes.
I see the light and choose to be an angel whom the truth sets free
Another Beginning
 
Vivian Dixon Sober
All rights Reserved
 
This is an editorial and black love speaking.
 

Visit Vivian’s blog at
http://victoriouswomen.wordpress.com

JAM Aiwuyor Healthy

The Rebellious Vegetarian

The Rebellious Vegetarian

“if You Re-Bel With A Cause, You won’t be a Rebel Without a Cause” – Last Chance Charlie

‘Eat organic’; ‘Free Range & Cage Free’; ‘Grass fed – no steroids’; ‘wild caught – no nets – on lines‘. 

‘Cramped enclosures‘; ‘de-beaked and abused’; ‘over-farmed &; over-fished’; ‘outbreaks of disease’; ‘Tyson and Monsanto’.

Am I the only one that is getting a little weary of all the Preaching and the Guilt that pervades the Medias’ coverage of, ‘Food – Its Evils and Horrors’. 

That might as well be the Headlines.

Or why do they say things like, “Caught in the dastardly clutches of President Bar-Sinister, Food is the hapless victim in the battle of Good vs. Evil”…

… if what they really mean is “Bi-Partisanship, Cooperation, Compromise and Consensus”?

When they’re not making you feel Guilty, you are made to feel Un-Educated. I’ve heard people with advanced degrees say, “I have a PhD and I couldn’t even figure it out”, about normal everyday things.

That’s the real conspiracy, make everyone dependent on Them.

That is why you hear words like, “We Know that You are having a Difficult time adjusting to this change in Dietary Life-Style, which is why We are providing You with Prepared [pre-selected, pre-tasted, pre-tested, pre-demographed, pre-TradeMarked, pre-packaged and pre-sented] meals for your… entire Week/entire Month/entire Year/entire… Life

It is the same thing when I go grocery shopping. The media and mainly my wife, have me so paranoid and programmed, that I find myself doing the same things that I used to think only ‘fanatics’ do: 

Freak out over the news – Go to the library and read every book about it – Throw out all the meat in the freezer – Eat corn on the cob without butter – Map out a route of at least 5 different stores and 2 of those are Farmers markets – Tell Everyone that they Did and Do. 

So My resolution to reclaim my sanity, for the remainder of this year and into the next, and for ever long this lasts, is to stop listening and start enjoying. 

I have heard enough to make up my own mind and I agree with the things I agree with. I’ll reserve judgment on other things as the information becomes clearer, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be careless and overindulgent. Give me some credit for good sense.

But if I have to eat ‘wood chips’, I’ll eat them the way I want to eat them – with roasted red peppers, garlic and goat cheese – thank you very much.

It doesn’t cost more either with all the money we save annually buying our beans, rice and cereal in bulk – I’m talking 50lb bags.

Fresh local fruits and vegetables on par with major chain prices. The only things I pay a little bit extra for are ‘accoutrements’ like:

Mango salsa and powder, eggplant and garlic spread, feta with herbs, cumin seeds, Jamaican Curry powder and apple-wood smoked, salt and pepper.

I love to eat and I need to be happy about what I’m eating; and I am happiest when I can be creative.

So if you don’t mind, I’d like shaved Pecans, sliced Strawberries and Bosc Pears with my Pan-Seared Wild Alaskan Salmon salad: 

A skinless fillet, 

Marinated in a blend of extra virgin olive oil, fresh rosemary, basil, oregano, garlic, cracked pepper and sea salt, 

The garlic and herbs chopped and mixed together, blended with the olive oil, salt and pepper,

Rub into the flesh side only,

Let sit for 20 – 30 minutes in the refrigerator,

 Then place flesh side down in a hot nonstick pan for 45 – 60 seconds, 

 Until you get a nice golden brown searing and caramelizing of the fresh garlic and herbs; 

 Turn over and cook for another 90 seconds and remove. 

Cooked to perfection, the flesh flaky and moist, it is ready to be served on a tossed bed of mixed greens and spinach, mixed with Feta, red and yellow peppers, broccoli, cucumber, sliced cherry tomatoes and baby carrots, red onion, cilantro and avocado, then garnished with shaved Pecans, sliced Strawberries and Bosc Pears.

As an alternative to either a Raspberry Vinaigrette or Light Poppy-seed dressing, try a tablespoon or two, of Mango Salsa from Trader Joes.

I think I feel a cookbook coming on.

 Copyright ©2010 Anthony Hall

JAM Aiwuyor Black Artist Spotlight

A Rose That Grew From Concrete: Singer/Songwriter Jarell Johnson

A rose that grew from concrete: Singer/Songwriter-Jarell Johnson

Written by: k-la

Baltimore, Maryland is where I resided for three years of my life. My apartment was in the middle of two different worlds.  Two blocks north of my apartment you would see beautiful brownstones and freshly cut lawn. Michael Phelps grew up not too far from here. Two blocks south of my apartment the people who could have inspired HBO’S “The Wire” resided in row homes that once were big and beautiful.   The one thing I found evident on both sides was that there was so much talent among the people. Some people I will never forget, because of their story alone or just because their voice told a story on its own.

While living in Baltimore looking for talent I came upon Jarell Johnson, who is a singer/songwriter, I thought about Tupac’s poem ‘’A rose that grew from concrete”.  Sometimes you find beautiful things in unexpected places.  It’s only right that I give you some insight on this talented singer/songwriter, so you can get a chance to see who he is and to hear what the world of music is missing.

The Legaci: Are you originally from Baltimore?

Jarell: Yes I am, I did grow up in North Carolina but I came back, and this is where most of my musical experience comes from.

The Legaci:  When did you know that singing and writing is what you wanted to do?

Jarell:  Around 10 or 11 I started to find my voice and I started writing poems it was between law and singing (laugh)

The Legaci:  Do you think it’s important for singers to be songwriters?

Jarell:  Well for me I think it adds a texture and honesty to your work I think if you can apply things that happened in your life to your writing it becomes more personable.

The Legaci:    I have talked to people that say some people from Baltimore have a defeated attitude and they don’t think they can achieve more… but I don’t see this with you. What or who inspires you to keep going?

Jarell:  I think it’s my passion and attitude… If it’s something you want to do you have to blaze the trail.

The Legaci:   I believe what you put out in the universe comes back to you, with that being said if you had your choice of record labels to be signed to  what label would that be? If you could collaborate musically with anyone in the industry presently who would it be?

Jarell: oh man! That’s hard, you know.  I don’t have a specific label but any label that will allow me to do what I want and be myself would be the right choice for me. You know, I want to be successful. I don’t want to be necessarily a superpower. I just want my work to have meaning. Ok so,  wow, who would I collaborate musically with?  (laughs )There is list I have  (ok then give me a few  ) …writing wise, Teedra Moses, Tank … Artist  with sick harmonies that I would love to work with  Brandy , Tweet, Bilal these are just a few.

The Legaci: Name one song that you could listen to everyday until the day you died?

Jarell:  OK! OK! Let me see… Maybe” Ready for love” by India Arie or “You love me” by Jill Scott.  These songs are beautifully written and honest, very honest. They have an amazing mood and ambiance. Admitting that you are ready to love is honest, but saying I need you AND I’m ready to love is something so pure about that. (I totally agree, Ready for love is one of my favorite songs the lyrics are so deep and honest!)

The Legaci: I took a listen to your song “Not interested” and I felt every word tell me a little about it?

Jarell: Thank you. I wrote that song about an older relationship and its basically straightforward. Sometimes you leave a relationship and you realize you’re not interested anymore and it’s ok. (AMEN! It’s a great thing to realize)

The Legaci :  Last but not least what do you want people to know about you as an artist?

Jarell: Just that I am an artist. I try to make music that I’ll be proud of.  I want to make lasting music. What’s hot for the moment might not be hot forever, so lasting music that people can feel.

Jarell’s truly a talent. I have seen him create from scratch while he worked with Kalada productions, a talented producer out of Baltimore. Currently he is working with another set of talented people, Firestarter Productions. He is also working on his album which is almost complete and working on a soundtrack with Derrick L. Gray. It is always refreshing to speak to an artist who has so much passion.

Contact Jarell at : Facebook.com/Jarell.johnson

jarell.johnson@yahoo.com

guest contributor Commentary

Is the phrase” No Homo” a form of gay bashing?

Is the phrase” No Homo” a form of gay bashing
By Qaadir Morris

Hip Hop has coined many words and phrases since its arrival into the homes of mainstream America. Hip Hop introduced to the world words like; “Shawty, Bru, and Real Talk” just to name a few. Youth have always been receptive to the style and originality of Hip Hop, and the lingo being utilized in songs can be found in neighborhoods all across the country. The influence of Hip Hop on pop culture has been criticized over and over again by many who do not have an understanding of the culture. The usage of the terms “bitches and hoes” have been condemned for quite sometime. These words are considered offensive and demeaning because they subjugate the value of black woman in our society. If that is the case is it fair to say that you can add the phrase “No Homo” to the list? Is the phrase “No Homo” a form of gay bashing?

The phrase “No Homo” originated in Harlem during the mid 90’s. The phrase was brought to the limelight by the rapper Camron who is the founder of The Diplomats. In the hyper masculine artistry which is Hip Hop homosexuality is not embraced. In Hip Hop holding true to masculinity is so important that stating your sexual preference is essential to the longevity of a lot of rappers. In some instances acts of extreme testosterone can propel an artist to superstardom. A rapper gets arrested or doing something that is equivalent to being a “street nigga” can propel him to rare air only occupied by a few. (Check out 50 Cent or even Gucci Mane if you don’t believe me) For example if a male were to say “I love you” to his friend he has to follow with “No Homo” before the statement is taken out of context. Is it really “homo” to show love to your fellow man or woman if they are of the same gender?

The phrase “No Homo” has evolved from its origins in Harlem. You can now hear many artists using the phrase. Lil Wayne has used the phrase on one of his biggest singles to date. On the platinum selling single Lil Wayne starts the track off by saying “No Homo.” If Wayne didn’t start the track off like that would he have been looked at differently? This was around the time that the infamous picture of Wayne kissing Baby dropped.

 Before the kiss do you think they told each other “No Homo”? The song “Lollipop” is light in content and harmonic in a more feminine way, so I’m sure gay men and women alike were in the club going crazy over the record. Kanye West and Soulja Boy have also used the phrase on some of there latest material. If you listened to the first single off of Jay Z’s Blueprint 3 “Run This Town” I’m pretty sure you can recall Ye’s verse. “It’s crazy how you can go from being Joe Blow/ to everybody on your d*** no homo.” Soulja Boy has even used the phrase. “I’m pretty boy swaggin in the club I feel sexy, (no homo) No homo shawty but my chest is straight flexin.”

One person in particular has already spoken out on the vernacular. Dr. Marc Lamont Hill wants the word to cease and desist. Dr. Hill is a television personality on Fox News and is an associate professor of education at Teachers College in New York. Dr. Hill states the following to address his views; “More importantly, the no-homo discourse is further evidence of hip-hop’s obsession with queer identity. After all, in order to punctuate even the most sexually non-suggestive sentences with a homophobic disclaimer, one has to constantly be thinking about homosexuality.”

The phrase “No Homo” is widely used and will continue to be used. I spoke to a friend about this saying, and I could understand his rationale behind his viewpoint. “When we as men say “No Homo” I don’t feel as if it is gay bashing. I personally think of it as clarification.” Clarification is important, but I feel that we as men should be comfortable in our own skin. True indeed sexual preferences are that of the individual, but at the same token I feel that we do have to be mindful of our surroundings and the people we say things in front of. Do I bash the phrase “No Homo?” I honestly do not, but I can understand how a person could feel a certain way. The phrase could come off as insensitive and judgmental to a person who practices acts of homosexuality. The phrase “No Homo” is not going to die anytime soon, so I feel that people should take the time to enlighten themselves. What do you think?

JAM Aiwuyor Relationships

The Power of Black Love

The Power of Black Love

By Guest Writer Dr. Shanessa Fenner 

There is nothing more beautiful than the love between a Black man and a Black woman.  The security and love that a Black man gives the Black woman is breathtaking. 

We are living in a society that focuses on the breakdown or dismantling of the Black Family structure instead of focusing on the positive aspects.  Black love does exist and will live forever despite the depiction of what society says about Black love. 

Black love exemplifies strength, forgiveness, communication, growing together, trust, reciprocity, unconditional love, and loving each other until your very last breath.  There are couples that are the epitome of Black love such as Bill and Camille Cosby, Will and Jada Smith, Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee, President Barack and Michelle Obama, and the list goes on.  There is a certain chemistry that Black love emits and others can see and feel it too.

It is important for our children to see the power of Black love so they can have a healthy knowledge of what true love represents.  With 60% of Black households being led by Black women, many children are not able to see healthy relationships between a man and a woman.  Healthy relationships are comprised of trust, honesty and respect.     

Some Black men are reaching out and marrying women of other ethnicities for various reasons.  This action decreases the chance of the Black woman to love and marry a Black man.  It also poses the question is our race giving up on Black love?  Is there a feeling that love and happiness is found elsewhere as in other races?   

We are a beautiful race with a history that should have cemented our people to learn how to stand together, support, and love our own.  The power of Black love is amazing and I do believe it will stand the test of time.         

Dr. Shanessa Fenner is an educator, writer, radio personality, and has her own TV show.  She is a multifaceted Black woman who is motivated and cares about her people.  Her passion is motivating our future youth to be all they can be.     

JAM Aiwuyor Commentary, Race Ethnicity & Culture

How Gay is Your Black?

How Gay is Your Black?

By J.L. Glenn

Both before and after the shackles came off, African Americans have been fighting the battle to learn, love, and even drink water freely. The struggle for freedom through nonviolent protest continues on even today.  However, on this path to freedom, it seems as if some have forgotten what the Civil Rights Movement was all about and what the word equality really means. They have forgotten that discrimination does not just apply to race; it applies to all other human rights as well.

On Monday, March 8, 2010, Time Magazine Online published an article entitled, “Being Gay in Uganda: One Couple’s Story,” written by Glenna Gordon. The article is about one lesbian couple’s struggle to be themselves in Uganda, where the social and political climate is hostile towards its GLBT citizens.  Gordon writes, “Last year a member of Uganda’s Parliament, David Bahati, introduced a bill that, if it becomes law, will further criminalize homosexuality in Uganda. ‘Aggravated homosexuality,’ according to the bill, will become a capital offense and anyone who doesn’t report a known homosexual within 24 hours will be subject to punishment of up to seven years in jail.”

When did it become socially acceptable for us, as a people, to ignore injustice and allow discrimination?  When did it become tolerable for we who were drowned by the firefighter’s hoses, tackled by the bloodhounds, and hung from trees by bigoted men, to stand by and do nothing as others lose their birthright of freedom? At what point, after we gained our freedom, did we decide that it was all right for anyone outside of what we individually deem as “normal” to be subjected to mistreatment? We are all worthy of the same constitutional truths. When did love—the one thing that has brought this world together after war, slavery, genocide and terrorism—become so terribly immoral?  When did love become an insufficient fund?

Discrimination is Discrimination and it’s criminal.  So the question remains: How Gay is Your Black?

Works Cited

http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1969667,00.html Monday March 8 2010, Glenna Gordon.

Time magazine in partnership with CNN.

J.L. Glenn is a poet and playwright living in Washington D.C.

guest contributor Commentary, Race Ethnicity & Culture

Is Cocolo the Dominican N-Word?

  Is Cocolo the Dominican N-Word?

From Dominican Chronicles Vol 12: “Cocolo By Claudio E. Cabrera

Two weeks ago, I was eating dinner with a group of neighborhood friends. One of my friends is Dominican and he was talking about the color issues amongst us.

We spoke for a bit and it was an interesting conversation. But he used one word that has puzzled me forever: ‘Cocolo.’

He said: ‘I’m a Cocolo.’

I didn’t really know how to react to it because he embraced the word and saw no issue with it. Plus, it was the first time I heard someone of my complexion call himself that (he’s actually a few shades lighter).

Throughout life, friends, family members and my own ears told me that word is offensive. I hear it at restaurants, on trains, and in barber shops when talking about someone who is Black. I’m sure some of my readers have heard it and either cringed or wondered what it meant.

Here is one definition I found online:

COCOLO

Now, whenever I hear the word it’s in two contexts – a bad one and a harmless/proud one.

‘Maldito Cocolo’ (Damn Black)

‘Eso cocolos me tienen cansao’ (I’m tired of Blacks)

Then its used in a way that doesn’t sound so harmful.

Que eres tu? Yo soy un cocolo (I’m a Black)

Que era el hombre? Un Cocolo. (He was Black)

From the definitions and examples I provided you, you’ll see that it can be used as a prideful word or perceived as a hateful one. Thing is, I’ve only heard one person say it in a prideful way my whole life. Most of the time I hear it, it’s used in a negative sentence.

One day, I pressed one of my friends about it and he said: ‘It’s not the N word. It’s just a way of calling people who are your complexion. Sort of like Gringo.’

I’ve never said Cocolo in my life (not once), but I have said Morenito to describe someone of my skin color whether Spanish speaking or not. I shouldn’t be using that word because it’s offensive in nature as well.

But Moreno lost its negative connotation with me. I’ve been called a ‘Morenito’ by my Grandma and others close to me. I never looked at the word Moreno as an offensive word because I felt it described people of my complexion – and I guess when I heard it – I heard it from people close to me so never took offense (wasn’t said in an offensive manner either).

Whenever they say it it’s: “Mi Moreno tan bello o mi Moreno tan buen mozo.” (Handsome/Beautiful)

But I’m here to say that both Cocolo and Moreno are both negative to me. Whether they are to you, is on you. But I’ve had Black friends and other Latino friends of my complexion ask me what I thought about it. My dad said he doesn’t accept Moreno or Cocolo now or when he was growing up in DR. He says call me a Negro. My Uncle let’s people call him Moreno all the time and doesn’t have an issue.

I just think if you’re Latino, you should call people ‘Negro’ which is the equivalent of Black. I would say ‘Afro-Americano,’ but some people are too lazy to say so many words.

I know this was a bit confusing, but it’s because it’s almost like the N word. Some Blacks say it to each other, but aren’t too fond of other races saying it. In most cases, cocolo is used to describe American Blacks. But what makes it extra confusing is that it’s used by Dominicans to describe other Dominicans or any other Black who is Latino.

This stuff gives me a headache and I’m sure it provides you with one too.

*Pops an Advil*

Have a good weekend…

Source

About the Author:

Claudio E. Cabrera

is a 26 year-old award-winning writer based out of the Inwood (Northern Manhattan) section of New York City.

He’s a son of Dominican immigrants and graduate of Brooklyn College, which the Princeton Review recently coined “The Poor Man’s Harvard” in their 2008 Best Colleges Edition. Cabrera graduated in 2008 with a Bachelors Degree in Journalism.

In 2005, Cabrera began his journey in journalism. He’s written for community newspapers, daily’s, and magazines. He’s profiled the likes of Shaquille O’ Neal, Alonzo Mourning, Mayor Michael Bloomberg and Rev. Al Sharpton to name a few.

guest contributor Commentary, Popular Discussions

The Mind of A Recovering Misogynist

Inside-The-Minds
Photo Credit: iStockphoto

I, at one time in my young life, hated women.  Hate is such a strong word, but it is appropriate for expressing how I felt at a time in my life. I despised women for their naïveté, and their false pretenses that would come off as “lame” to me. These false pretenses strayed far from the reality in which I lived in. A façade that came to be known as life’s mascara hiding ones true blemishes made me believe that all women were nothing more than rugs that needed to be stepped on. I quite naturally gravitated to the idea of being a user, and an abuser, because as a man, or so I thought that is ultimately what we do to women. In the society we currently live in, mainstream America tells many like I that our manhood is predicated by our ability to be dominant and in control. I applied that rationale to how I dealt with the woman in my life. I came to realize that if I had a little bit of power,( money, cars, clothes) equals that women would be more receptive to me. It was not until I started going through some things that  I was made aware of my misogynistic ways. Then I came to the conclusion that I, Qaadir Morris was a misogynist.

Misogyny derives from the Greek word “misogunia” which means hatred of woman. I did not become aware of this word until recently. The only thing that I knew was that I had a strong dislike of women. I was reading a book that I recommend to all young black males titled “Who’s Gonna Take The Weight” by Kevin Powell. One chapter in particular talked about his feeling of resentment towards women. It seemed comparable to my own preconceived notions that I began to truly analyze my mentality and myself.  I was firm in my masculinity, but I grew wary of a woman getting close to me. I feared the idea of being looked at a certain way, and I feared the idea of being disappointed. I thought that because I did not have certain things going for me anymore that the women that I would come in contact with would not care for my issues. My preconceived notions would lead me to do the same, so henceforth I would try to get what I could from a woman.

I attribute my mentality at that stage of life to my upbringing. As a lot of us from urban communities, I too came from a single parent household. I love and cherish my mother, but there were times when even she would fall into the sight of my misogynistic views. I always wondered why my dad was never around. Why is it that he didn’t want anything to do with me? I formed this thought in my mind that it was my mother’s fault for him not being there. She must have pissed him off to the point of no return. As I reached my teenage years I strongly felt that it was her, and not my dad that caused us to never meet. As I matriculated through high school, and started to develop my own ideologies I could understand why my dad left us. Hell, I would have left if I had to deal with my mom on that level. With age and experience I now know that I again was wrong with my feelings.

Being from “Urban America” the streets played a big role in my misogynistic views. In the hood, all you really have is your manhood, and it is determined by your style, your lingo, and of course by how many women you can sleep with. The music that I digested, played a big role in my misogynistic ways. My friends and I would begin to apply what we learned from Master P and the whole Cash Money click in our day-to-day lives. We wanted to be hood rich and began to use choice words like “bitches and hoes” to describe the women in our neighborhood and at school. The crazy part about this is that I was genuinely a good guy. I had manners, and to some I was too “nice” to the ladies. This idea of being “nice” blew me too, because again I thought that women did not want to be respected. Because I would talk to them in a respectable manner and get played to the left, where as the guy who would feel on them and talk disrespectful to them would get the girl. I had no choice but to switch the swag because I wanted the girls.  My rude and egotistical mannerisms had to show brighter than my intelligence if I wanted to be considered cool with the ladies, or so I thought.

I am a recovering misogynist. I can honestly say that I know longer despise women. Of course there is still room for growth, but I am now more aware than I have ever been. I do not claim to know it all, but I am aware of my flaws and that is a good thing. I believe that as a man we get so caught up in the material things in the world that we feel we have to buy our piece of love and happiness. I can’t say that I never flexed, because honestly I did. Maybe it is just the caliber of women that I was meeting that led me to believe these things. If I change my surroundings, I will get different results in my interactions. It comes down to being secure with who you are and knowing where you are going. I am not yet completely healed from the plague that a lot of us men face which is misogyny, but I am man enough to address the issue. What do you think?

Qaadir Morris is a journalist born and raised in the great city of Atlanta, Georgia. Morris is a recent graduate of Shaw University, located in Raleigh, North Carolina. Currently writing on a freelance level, Morris has interviewed the likes of T.I, and Andrew Young just to name a few. Qaadir is currently working on a novel titled “Schools Out”, which focuses on the trials and tribulations of a recent college graduate. In his artistic expression, Mr. Morris wishes to convey a sense of reality through words. “Writing for me has always been therapeutic”, says Mr. Morris. “Writing is like raising children; you have to instill structure yet give them space to grow and develop a personality.” As he continues to evolve Morris is also working on completing another novel by the end of the year, and organizing a series of events in the Metro Atlanta area.

guest contributor Black Artist Spotlight

The Poetry of Tiffany Reese

About Tiffany Reese: Tiffany Reese is a young poet with a drive to inspire the world. She has touched many with her uplifting words of encouragement and profound knowledge of issues dealing with everyday life. She has a passion for the younger generation and does everything she can to educate them about life, God, and loving themselves through her poetry. She has received the “Shakespeare Trophy of Excellence” and the “2003 Poet of The Year Medallion”. She has gone several places spreading her talent to those who have an ear to hear what God has to say. Tiffany not only writes poetry but she also writes and directs plays and has begun writing her first novel.

Black Hourglass

As I reflect on times passed, many situations and confrontations of negativity slip slowly through a black hourglass; once there was slavery and those hating me but now it seems as if I am destined to be hated by me or should I say by those of my kind; Why is it that time has suddenly flipped into rewind? Entrapment of lives has now evolved into entrapment of the mind; our lack of knowledge has left us incarcerated with no plan of escape; it’s like we’re locked down behind massa’s gate waiting to be freed and now it is hundreds of years later and we still do not see a need to succeed; black on black crimes and robberies, brothas beating sistas and broken families, what exactly is our destiny mapping out to be? Do we proceed or recede? Change will never come if we constantly wait for someone else, look at the trap you have set for yourself not realizing how quickly the future covers the past, we sit back and laugh, as time slips slowly through a Black Hourglass

I AM 
 

I am labeled as Black, as Mexican, as Latino, as White, as many different breeds of American; 

I am classified by the pigment of my skin, by the texture of my hair, and by your standards I am almost non-human; 

I am STEREOTYPED; 

I am pre-judged as illiterate, as unknowledgeable, as unaware, as dumb, as intolerable; 

I am also spoken to be non-sufficient, unable, and unwilling; 

I am deemed an outcast but what many don’t believe many choose not to understand and because I am curious you say that I am slow to comprehend…when actually I come from generations of intellectual minds who are said to be peculiar, strange, hard to figure out but yet I am in high demand; 

Who’s to say one cannot assume another’s capabilities when many have already assumed me and my abilities to be not what others perceive but what I am destined to be; 

If life were actually based on the classification set by man then I would be close to nothing, at the bottom of the list, not even worth a grain of sand, but life is based on the truth and not a lie so the truth is…. 

I am a believer of the most high, chosen to perpetuate the world with righteousness; 

I am blessed with a heart of compassion, a soul full of love and grace for it is he that gives me the strength to live day by day;

I am what God has made and predestined me to be and what is unpleasing to you is of least importance to me for it is not by your thoughts and feelings I will be judged but by the obedience of my heart, the understanding of his word, the pureness of my soul and living by the fruit of the spirit that I withhold;  

Now, with all that said and done I pray that you have come to the conclusion that I am not what you want me to be but I am a child of God and that’s what matters most to me.

This One’s For You 

Tall and strong he stands with the world in the palm of his hands sometimes it’s hard for us to understand the way he does his thing and when he speaks it’s like his voice sings a deep rich harmony more like a mellow melody he inspires me with a deepness of thought this is something that can’t be bought it’s priceless he ranks #1 on my list of importance like a rare jewel he is unique and like devotion he is faithful a father, we all should be grateful to have such a leading figure in our life, a provider, a motivator, a guiding light in the midst of the darkest night, he is the comfort within the feeling that everything is alright; a father is courage when we fear, a father is to be upheld and cherished so dear and not broken down verbally until he is of his mere essence, a father is a blessing and should be treated as such respected and not neglected for he has feelings that consists of more than the ability to see, smell, hear, taste and touch, without him there is no us; I know at times it seems as if people are growing colder it’s like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders pressing down heavily like boulders these times are getting hard but we will make it through although sometimes we may not always agree with you but we are here because we love you; A father, one who is the giver of life and the redeemer of pain throughout history many have tainted the name father by taking the responsibility jokingly leaving half of America unclaimed but to those who know the real definition of being a father walks with his head held high and not down with shame, he looks towards the sky and acknowledges his father, our father God; So from me to all of you in this most special way, I commend you on your strength, I honor you for your truth, and I love you for just being you.

guest contributor Relationships

Why marriage is Important to the African American Community

Why Marriage Is Important to the African American Community

By Guest Writer Maryanne D. Brown Campbell 

As the statistic that 70% of black women are single prompted me to write this book, I’ve made amazing discoveries, I wasn’t aware of before…I feel the universe is in perfect balance, and what comes around goes around. When you look at the fact we have a President with African blood-lines (and I say this because I believe we are Africans living in America, as that’s where our roots lie, despite the fact, the majority of us cannot trace our roots, and the fact Obama is biracial), when you look at that fact, and remember our history in America, that started in slavery, is it any wonder that one day we would have a black man running this country? When you remember history, and how America first belonged to the Indians or Native Americans, and realize that Mexicans have descended from the Aztec Indians, is it any wonder that Mexican Americans far out populate any other ethnicity in America today? That said, when you take into account Mexican culture and how significant and important family is to their culture, we can learn something from them…  
 
Given the following statistics, family, which is produced in its most healthiest forms, through marriage, makes marriage an important factor, especially to our community:  
 
“The marriage rate for African Americans has been dropping since the 1960s, and today, we have the lowest marriage rate of any racial group in the United States.”  
 
“Today the number of children born into a black marriage averages less than 0.9 children per marriage. ‘The birthrates of black married women have fallen so sharply that absent out-of-wedlock child-bearing, the African American population would not only fail to reproduce itself, but would rapidly die off.”  
 
“African American women are the least likely in our society to marry. In the period between 1970 and 2001, the overall marriage rate in the U.S. declined by 17%; but for blacks, it fell 34%.”  
 
Higher rates of black child poverty are linked to higher levels of black single parenthood.  
 
“Divorce and marriage play a much bigger economic role for black children than white children in the U.S. In the first 2 years following a divorce, family income among white children falls about 30%, while it falls by 53% among black children. The difference increases dramatically in the long run. 3 or more years after the divorce, about a 3rd of the loss in whites’ household income is recouped, but the income of black families barely improves…” -UC Davis economists, Marianne Page & Ann Huff Stevens  

Commentary welcome, and thanks for listening… I hope this sheds light on my marriage reformist notions for our community…
 
If you want to know more, check out her book Food For The Soul 


About the Author: Maryanne D. Brown Campbell 

Maryanne D. Brown Campbell is best known for her “in your face,” uncensored poetic style, thus the name Serpentine Tongue, the title of her previous book, is befitting of her works, as she has a tongue like a snake, with her witty, sharp and critical edge, and honest and ever passionate views.  She is also versatile to the likes of one of her favorite poets Paul Laurence Dunbar, who wrote in eloquent English vernacular and slave dialect.  Inspired as well by everyone from the late Tupac Shakur to her former college instructor, author, poet, playwright, dancer, actress and lecturer, Ntozake Shange, as well as poets Amari Baraka, Saul Williams and Black Ice, she plans to make a name for herself, with more works to come.

Food for the Soul touches on the topics of sisterhood, sexuality, interracial relationships, the word “bitch”, emotional intelligence, what it is to be a “Pillar of Strength” and a “Beast of Burden”, beauty and so much more.  Its essence is as the title suggests, a component to feeds one’s soul literally, -a book no African-American household should be without, as it gives us a deeper and profound understanding of our state of being in the African American community today, in order to remedy our issues amongst ourselves and with one another.

Maryanne D. Brown Campbell currently resides in San Diego, California, an English major who received her baccalaureate from Prairie View A & M University and her Masters in Management from the University of Phoenix.  She is presently working on future book endeavors, a romance novel, poetry compilations, a spoken word CD, and most notably, Word Masturbation: The Poet’s Guide to Love, Sex and Relationships.