the weekends fly by so fast these days. teaching is a job that doesn't allow much "me" time. i feel as though i'm constantly doing something, and when i'm not, i'm recovering.

if anyone is still reading this...you probably remember what this blog USED to look like. it was cute (like me..ha!). but now it's ordinary, sort of like the words that sit on this page. no spark, no heart. just flat and waiting.

i want to freshen up this space. i want to do lots of things, but i'm afraid they may get burried by life. we are 20 days deep into the new year, and i have yet to make any resolutions. not that that in it self MEANS anything, but at least i'd have a goal. so here it is....my goals for this year...

1. be a better mommy
2. be a better wifey
3. get healthy
4. take control of my money
5. be happy & LIVE life without holding back

so much of my life feels as though its on pause. i want to get my credit & money straight because i want to buy a house. but the other part of me feels...guilty/sad...that i won't be able to inhabit that house with beloved, at least not for a while. i want to do great things in life, but i oft times feel like i should wait to do them with him. it's a constant battle, but i can't put our lives on hold because we're not all together. i'm seriously considering moving back to NY cuz i miss my man...deeply. being able to see him so much over the break just hammered home the necesity for us to be together. and for him to have a relationship and SEE our son grow up--not just through pictures and visits every few months, but to see the changes the munchkin goes through each week--is so valuable...i don't want either one of them to miss out on that experience.

decisions, decisions. whatever i decide i pray i'm making the right choice for all of us. especially me.

life moves so fast & yet so slow all at once. it's been months since i came to this blog and flooded it with my thoughts. things have been crazy and it's hard for me to even know where to begin. so i'll just let it flow...

beloved was sentenced to the max. the judge totally ignored everything. we are appealing, but he began serving his sentence a few days before christmas. he was officially transfered into state custody on the 22nd & we made our first trip (of many) to a prison on the eve of the new year. crazy. who would have ever thought we'd be spending the new year sitting across from a table from each other in an upstate prison? i can't even begin to comprehend the life we have ahead of us: more collect calls, packages, more letters, the distance, the absence...sometimes it's unbearable, but then i remember how much i love this man & it's worth it. to see him play with our son is PRICELESS! what a life, yo.

shifting gears....today is the first day back to school after winter break. i need another week off, but it's not happening. today feels so weird. i don't really have the heart to be here, to deal with the mouths of my students. but alas, i'm here...grinding.

i feel like i should have something profound to say, seeing as i've been gone for so long, but i'm mentally drained. i was in NY for 3 weeks, made the trip up to see beloved every day of last week, and then traveled home and have been going non-stop since Friday. i'm tired, and it shows. i will try to write more. i have been taking my laptop to work and am going to try to write on my off period. it helps to clear my mind.

i wish all of you a blessed new year.

peace.

Survivor

they say your first year teaching is all about surviving...and that's exactly what i'm struggling to do. i've been teaching for more than 2 months now and each day is something new. just as i think i've settled into a rhythm, a comfortable routine, something (or someone) shakes everything up.

so far i've had a few near fights in my classroom, found out one of my students is adopted (she told me so), encountered so many attitudes from manish 12 year olds (can we bring back paddling? Some of these kids need a gentle beat-down), i’ve moved a few failing students to tears (i was gentle, i promise), and many other things. talking to other teachers is like having a free therapy session. we know each other's pains, promises, frustrations, and share the same hope for our kids: success.

when i am teaching i feel....vulnerable, powerful, knowledgeable, happy, frustrated, saddened, tired, and happy as hell. this is definitely the hardest job E-V-E-R!

is it Christmas break YET? i’m tired y’all.

my personal life is….always dramatic. long story short, beloved was convicted and we will find out what type of sentence the judge will dole out next week. for his “felony class” the span is anywhere from probation to fifteen years (crazy, right?). we are both preparing for the worse (gotta get your mind right to handle it), but praying for the best (inshallah). His lawyer thinks he’s a good candidate for probation or something on the low end of the span, but it’s all up to the judge. I will try to keep you posted. I’ve been MIA lately cuz life…is moving way too fast.

By the way….thank you for all of your prayers and kind words. they mean the world.

peace

dear beloved,

wrapping my head
around you is like
listening to coltrane
be bop in the rain

today
we converse staccato
breaking words like beats
between lips and tongue

 miss
      you
wish
      you
were
      in
me
      now

i love it when
you sound so vulgar
rolling my name
between your palms
wet      lips parting
to speak
hello

prayers

beloved's trial began last week and i've been so busy tending to our son, my classes, and trying to support beloved via phones lines that i forgot to ask for your prayers. we are facing a battle, but from what i hear it's going well. i will be shipping off to offer my support in person (and to see my man!) at the end of the week. please, while you are praying for your family, send up a little prayer for mine.

thank you. peace.

Lunchtime Musings

I am here
trapped beneath
a seemingly endless mountain
of ungraded words

trying my best
to play catch up
while catching them
up to where they should be

teaching is a struggle

love and long hours
overdue props
nerves shot to hell
definitely worth
the smile
you get
when they understand
whatimsayin

tune in


i am so excited!

the new season of "The Wire" starts tonight. the overarching theme of this season is education. this season, the wire follows the lives of young 4 boys and shows just how easy it is for kids to turn to crime. i can't wait to watch it. i'm so addicted to anything remotely connected with education, and in particular urban education. i am curious to see how the writers of the wire deal with the public education system. i love this show. the writing is just so adept and dead on, the characters are multi-dimensional, and the acting is extremely moving and realistic. sundays i will be glued to my tv to see what happens next.

mis-education of the negress


i am exhausted.

my first week of teaching is coming to a close, and i never knew i would be this tired. my feet ache, badly. my legs are sore and cramping, and my classes are draining as hell. working at an "inner city" middle school is rough. i have 4 different groups of kids--a "remedial" class, a "sheltered" class, and two honors classes--each requiring their own special attention. and on top of it all, seventh graders are a precarious bunch. they are middle children. they are caught somewhere between childhood and becoming teenagers. they are fighting to create their own identities, or just fighting cuz somebody smudged their pumas.

walking in i had a plan. i would be firm, strict, and yes, perhaps even a little mean. by the way, i'm not mean. i smile a lot. i love to laugh, but at our professional development days many seasoned teachers warned us newbies not to smile until (at least) christmas. word?

week one is almost over and i must admit, i do somewhat miss my comfy office job. my kids are...a handful. they test you. my voice is almost gone, my nerves are wearing thin. i don't want to turn into one of those "SIT DOWN and SHUT UP!" teachers, but i can see how easily it can happen.

on the bright side...you have those kids that have already said my class is their favorite. i already have groupies who want to hand out books, papers, run to the office, clean my room. i feel a bit awkward about using kids to run errands, but other teachers have said it makes them feel involved in the class....so i'm rolling with it.

teaching is definitely not easy, and i'm DEFINITELY not an expert. i am sort of fumbling through a dark tunnel making my way toward a dim and distant light.

hello, it's me

i'm back. i'm alive. saw beloved. he is thin, yet hopeful. we are deep deep in love. kissed for 1 hour straight. our son is growing. he is cruising. i am tired. exhausted. teacher training has begun. am i really going to be ms. __________(word?). crazy. life is moving so fast now. must sleep. must rise early. will be back, promise. peace.

temper tantrum


lately my nearly 10-month old son has been acting a bit crazy. he's very smary, knows what he wants, and when he doesn't get it he pitches a little fit. my mother immediately jumps into "oh no he didn't" mode, while i have been pretty lax about it because, after all, he's just a baby, right?

his outburts--flialing his arms, yelling, crying, and hitting the table when he doesn't get his way--have been happening a lot more lately. it's giving me cause for concern. the last thing i want my child to be is one of those white kids who yell at their parents and fall out on the floor at the mall. i ain't going out like that. but how do you let your child grow up and learn how to be himself, but at the same time, set boundaries so he knows how to act?

sometimes i think i'm a little too relaxed, but then again, i'm just learning as i go. the munchkin is the test kid. my first born. the one i try out EVERYTHING on, so when i have other kids i can take what i've learned and apply it to them. besides, it's really too early for spankings and when i say no he just shakes his head no. i want him to be confident, not shy like i was. he's already very smart. he says "hi" and "yeah" and something that sounds very close to "cat." he loves to be outside and just take in the world, looking at everything. his new obsession is with spitting. it's gross, but cute at the same time (and messy when i'm trying to feed him oatmeal & he spits it out).

i'm learning that parenting is a process. no matter how much i read or ask my mother and grandmother, it ultimately comes down to how i want to raise my child and what i think is right. they may laugh and shake their heads at me, but like them, i'm learning as i go. and hopefully like them, i will raise an intelligent, loving, caring child. i can tell you this though, it's fun watching him grow and change right before my eyes.

travel insecurities



it is not enough that we have to stand in long lines, remove our shoes, get fondled by TSA staff, and be damn near strip searched to ride on a plane these days, but NOW we have to drink baby formula (and breast milk?) too?

i am all for safety. God knows i don't want to end up being blown up just trying to get on a plane, but i am a little weary of the new travel restrictions. i am flying to new york next week to visit beloved, and according to the new mandates, i can't take any liquid on board, which is fine except i have a baby. and babies require food. and the munchkin drinks Enfamil. according to the TSA i'll have to taste it before it can be allowed on the plane. easy enough, right? WRONG! any mom knows that once you pop the seal on the formula, it's a wrap. it starts to expire. so even if my child isn't hungry, has just eaten, and isn't due for another feeding for four hours, i'll have to open up his formula and take a swig to prove i'm not a terrorist?

playing the fear card...

the media is all whipped up into a frenzy. flights have been canceled, people are pissed, and the thwarted terrorist attack may or may not have ties to Al Qaeda. every time there is another story, another foiled terrorist plot, another radical brown person on tv, i feel like the media (or government or whomever) tries to make us all believe we're going to die. they tell you to remain calm, live your life, but every news story talks about what could have been, how many people COULD have been killed, when and where the next attack will occur, and why we need to "remain vigilant" against the terrorist. if i were a conspiracy theorist, i might say that this whole liquid terror plot comes at a mighty convenient time. the US & UK are getting our asses kicked by the international community because we have laid back and let Israel bomb the allah out of Lebanon, and the administrations are in need of a distraction. you know, something to remind the world that there are evil doers lurking around every bottle of Pantene.



Related Tags: terrorism, TSA, airports, travel, terrorist attacks, uk terror plot, travel restrictions, airport security, Airport security measures

wha gwan, star?



i love my man like
cook food
like star apple
mango leaves passion
fruit cool like
breeze over mountains dem

beloved speaks
to every piece of
i and i and we
will make it
cuz love is
stronger
than
this


[ i got inspired by xavier and his blog. i couldn't help but vibe off his poetry. thanks for the inspiration.]

nervous energy


today i woke up feeling horrible.

last night my stomach was rumbling and in pain. i didn't sleep. i chalked it up to nervousness. you see, yesterday, before i left work, i handed in my letter of resignation. it's time to move on, take a short vacation, go see beloved, and come back to start my teaching gig. so, i was nervous about seeing my boss today. i didn't want to feel awkward and have that weird interaction that you tend to have with people after you tell them you're quitting.

this morning, i felt sick, but i figured a hot shower would get me back on track. when i came out of the shower i felt dizzy. felt like i was going to collapse. my son was starting to get impatient. he was tired of being in his crib and sesame street was no longer keeping him entertained. i still tried to keep it together and get dressed, but the more i moved, the more i felt like i would end up crashing to the floor. i knew then that i couldn't go to work. then the dizziness made me nauseous. i haven't felt that sick since i was pregnant. all i could do was lay down and try to call someone to come pick up the munchkin.

i called my mom & my older brother, no one was picking up their phones. when i finally got a hold of my mom, i managed to make the munchkin a bottle and seat him in his bouncy chair. when my mom came to get him, i was passed out on the couch and he was 2 seconds away from eating a quarter.

times like these, i REALLY need beloved. need to call him at work and ask him to come home. to come take care of me and make me feel like everything will be ok. pick up our son, take him to the park, bring me some soup or pineapples. baby me a little.

missing him is tough. i can't wait to see him. speaking to him today made me feel better. hearing the concern in his voice, his calming words, the love that flowed, eased my headache a bit. speaking to him made going to the doctor bearable. he had to TELL me go to. if it were up to me, i would have laid on the couch or the floor for the entire day. hell, it probably would have been more productive than dragging myself to the doctor. she did nothing for me. guessed at my condition. told me that perhaps i had a stomach flu (huh?), then perhaps it was a sinus infection (wha?). told me a sinus infection could cause dizziness and the headaches. i feel like i could have diagnosed myself better if i would have gone to WebMD, but whatever. i do feel better now (no thanks to her). i guess i just needed some rest and to relax. whatever happens at work for the remainder of my time there happens. i'll continue to work hard until my last day.

i'm happy tho. excited to be moving on, but scared. hopefully i'll be a good teacher. hopefully i'll make a difference. hopefully...my class won't be full up with bad ass kids.

Solitary Art

"On Friday night, more than 500 people had jammed into a gallery in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, to assess 25 of Donny Johnson's small, intense works. There was sangria, as well as big bowls of M&M's. By evening's end, six of the postcard paintings had sold, for $500 each.

"They are made with these chocolate pigments," said Adolfo Caballero, an owner of the gallery. "He has really created a new kind of technique, because he doesn't have access to conventional materials."

Most prison art, the kind created in crafts classes and sold in gift shops, tends toward kitsch and caricature. But there are no classes or art supplies where Mr. Johnson is held, and his powerful, largely abstract paintings are something different. They reflect the sensory deprivation and diminished depth perception of someone held in a windowless cell for almost two decades." (read entire article)

these types of stories always bring up interesting debates: should prisoners have rights?

there are a lot of people who believe that inmates shouldn't be allowed to do anything, no school, no social programs, no tv. i'm sure you've heard the argument before: "they're in prison, not on vacation." but then there is the other side that insists that inmates be able to better themselves--get an education, learn a trade, and yes, watch a little TV--especially if they will be released back into society.

i never really thought much about this debate until beloved became locked up. sure, there were a few people in my family who had been to prison, but they were always "the bad cousins" of the family. it was expected. they were never into school, never wanted to go to college, never really held a job; so i guess i wrote them off as career criminals who would forever cycle in and out of the system because they couldn't give up the block. but now, as beloved waits in jail all sorts of questions have run through my mind.

how will he be viewed when he gets out?
will he be able to get a job?
if he has to go to prison, will he be able to take classes while he's in?
what will people think of me? what will they say about our son?

before beloved got locked up he was in college working toward a degree in computer programming, now, after waiting for almost a year for trial, he is unable to take any college courses, unable to advance his education, he is basically wasting a year of his life. stuck on pause, unable to move forward. each day we talk i can hear more and more frustration in his voice. sometimes he apologizes to me, to our son, for putting us through this. sometimes he says he would understand if i left him. and other times he is angry...at everything.

although prison is a place of punishment, it can also be a place for transformation, hence the name "department of correction". in recent studies that measured the effects of educational programs at prisons, it was found that those who completed an educational program while incarcerated were less like to return to prison.

"A study at Folsom Prison in California showed that none of the inmates who earned a bachelor's degree recidivated, compared with the 55% recidivism rate of the rest of the inmates released. A study authored by female inmates at New York's Bedford Hills Correctional Facility indicates that women who attended college while incarcerated recidivated at a rate of 7.7% as opposed to the 29.9% return rate of women who did not attend. Post-secondary education in prison can help reduce crime on the street" (read entire article)

there is definitely a stigma attached to those who have been to prison, as well as those who have supported their love one through prison. and it's not ok. with so many of our loved ones locked up, we are all affected and shouldn't be made to feel like social outcasts. if we commit to educating those who seek it, providing job placement and housing support to those that are willing to turn their lives around, our country would be much better off. and maybe, just maybe we wouldn't have so many of our fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, and daughters behind the walls.



Related Tags: prison, prison art, art, art openings, pellican bay, state prison, prison education, prison recidivism rates, prison break, inmates, parents, children

the block is hot

as i'm writing this is it 3:51pm. i'm sitting here bored at work, avoiding whatever it is i'm supposed to be doing right now. it should not be this hot right now. not at almost 4pm. last night, around 11pm i flipped on the weather channel and it said it was currently 91 degrees & the air was thick with 95% humidity. are you kidding me? when i left new york i thought i'd left the humidity behind, but here it is...stalking me.

my son has it the worst. for the past two nights he's been stripped down to his huggies. at first i was worried, like...maybe he would get cold in the middle of the night, but then i realized, there is no air. there is no breeze. the air is stale and hot and oppressive. and he sweats more than i do. so he's been going sans clothes when we're at home. poor chile. i made a pallet for him on the floor yesterday afternoon and he slept there, directly under the fan, in front of the open sliding glass door, and he still managed to sweat so much he left a puddle on the comforter. what's a mom to do?

two hours from now i'll be leaving work and will be thrust into the afternoon annoyance of traffic. this morning i tried to decide whether to burn up my over-priced gas by using the AC, or suffer, be cheap, sweat it out and roll down my windows. even though it pains me to spend $30 on gas and not even get totally FULL (and i drive a corolla!), i decided to splurge and treat myself to some AC. at least (i reasoned) i wouldn't be totally aggravated on the drive to work.

all of this heat has me REALLY wondering about global warming. how big of an impact does all of our pollution really have on our environment? are we killing ourselves? lots of people dismiss global warming as a tree-hugging cause, but there just might be something to this. pollution is everywhere. i don't want to take my son to the beach cuz who knows what's floating in there. and if you have asthma....forgetaboutit.

at lunch my co-workers and i joked about how everyone, all conspiracy theorist that is, are claiming this is the end of the world. the weather is crazy, the middle-east is in chaos, and the amount of consumption seems to be moving into overdrive. i'm not ready to say this is the end just yet, but best believe i'll be praying for some cooler temps and lower gas prices.

i never thought i'd say this, but i'm SO over summer!

Cos, he said so

"You have to seriously see yourselves not as the old women where the men stood in front and you all stood behind, because the men, most of them are in prison."

In the 1980s, we watched Bill Cosby glamorize the black family through "The Cosby Show." For me, I wanted to be a Huxtable. Growing up in South-Central Los Angeles, I saw myself and my family as somewhat of a 'hood Huxtables. My parents, while not doctors or lawyers, made enough money to keep my brother and I in private schools, go out to fancy restaurants, and take trips to Vegas, Cleveland, Florida, and New York. I thought we were rich. I was the first kid on my block to own a pair of rollerblades and one of the few to have ever been on a airplane. Then it all fell apart. My mother was laid off from her well-paying job with aerospace giant Lockheed Martin, my parents divorced, and my mother, brother and I moved into my grandparents house. Our lifestyle completely shifted. No more trips, no more Friday night dinners out, my father became distant, and my mother was left to struggle to pay my tuition, our rent, and keep us afloat. She effectively became both mother and father, playing both roles fairly well, while somehow able to keep it all together.

At this year's commencement speech at Spellman college, Bill Cosby warned the graduates of the all-women’s college that they will have to be the ones to lead the race because black men are lagging behind. Cosby went on to tell the graduating class that "it is time for you to pick up the pace and lead because the men are not there. They're not there and every one of you young women know it.”

I know I am late to this issues and his comments, but this quote was posted in this month's Essence magazine, and so it got me to thinking. When I was in college, we (black women) would have these discussion amongst ourselves about brothas not being on our level. We noticed that we outnumbered our black male counterparts in nearly every class, major, and every dorm. We wondered who would we marry after we got grown, got our education, and had established ourselves in the world.

Lately there has been a string of articles and special reports about the plight of the black male in America. While I am torn by Mr. Cosby's comments, I think there is a bit of truth in his words. Unfortunately, black women are making greater and faster strides in corporate/academic America than black men. Because of this we do bear a certain amount of responsibility to be leaders in our communities to help facilitate success for the next generation of black youth. However, Mr. Cosby's comments rubbed me slightly the wrong way because, to me, they seem to call for the abandonment of black men. He seems to be saying that black women must lead, without trying to simultaneously help our brothas succeed. If that were the case I would not be with beloved. I have two degrees (BA/MFA), a well-paying job, and am about to return for more schooling. Beloved, on the other hand, was working toward his BA and is currently incarcerated. He has a great heart and a determined work ethic, but he is not on my "level" academically or economically. If I were to overlook him because of these things, I would have missed out on someone who loves and cares for me unconditionally.

If we write off our brothas and abandon them, how can we rise as a people? We can't. While I applaud Mr. Cosby for bringing these issues to light and begining a dialogue, I am skeptical at the message he is sending our young women. We cannot rise and succeed as a collective without ALL of our members performing their duties. Instead of merely claiming our place as leaders, we need to figure out ways to help our entire community to succeed.




Related Tags: bill cosby, cosby speech, spellman college, black men, black women, relationships, success

beathe and stop



last night, as i do most weekends, i settled in to my saturday night ritual of watching one of my netflix selections. this week's feature was MANITO. Manito is a award-wining, independent drama about a young teen, Manny, with a promising future who ends up blowing his chance at attending college (and his scholarship) by falling in the same cycle of prison as his older brother, Junior. set in the bronx, this film was a loud, riveting, salsa-driven family drama that showcased the complexities and challenges of growing up. it highlights the effects of the choices we make on our futures. while watching i found myself laughing, almost crying, and yelling, "DUMB ASS!" at the screen when Manny decided to make the wrong choice. this movie is definitely one of those films that doesn't make up your mind for you. it allows you to enter the world of its characters and make up your own mind as to what could or should happen.

i love taking chances on indie films such as this one. it just so happens that this DVD is a part of the Film Movement series, which is subscription service that sends it's users a new, award-winning independent film per month. if i weren't already a netflx member, i might consider this, because it's sounds like a good way to stay up on new films. one cool thing about Film Movement DVDs is that each feature film is accompanied by a short film. The Manito DVD featured a short film called MORNING BREATH.


MORNING BREATH is a 15 minute short film that depicts a typical, working-class brooklyn cat (Lord Jamar) as he traverses the streets, interacts with his boys, and falls in love. Sounds very predictable right? Wrong! The film is devoid of dialogue, but is instead driven by a 15 minute (straight dope) poem by Mums, of Def Poetry/Oz fame. While watching this film, not only was i taken in by the amazingly fresh poetry and cinematography, but i found myself hypnotized by Lord Jamar. For him, I would run this film back 30 times in a row just to catch his beautiful screwface (can you tell i was feelin it?). you see, i've always had this thing for slightly rugged, coca, new york brothas (brooklyn!)--all accent and swagger--with long & freshly lined lox (and goatees). Amen.

no rest for the weary



i have been sorta mia lately, coasting day to day, not keeping up with posting. i haven't been writing at all lately. my letters to beloved have decreased from 7 a week (one each day), to maybe 3. i am not inspired. i am tired, i am bored at work, and i miss beloved more than anything else. and it hurts.

these past few weeks i have been OVERLY emotional, crying at random movies, tv shows and songs (god, i'm cliche). i've been having dreams of beloved, the munchkin and i at the park or in our home or at the beach, just living as any other family lives. i want that so bad i can feel it everywhere.

on the 4th of july i went to ikea to buy the little one a dresser and when i started to see all of the furniture that we decorated our apartment with in bklyn...it was just too much. i couldn't even bring myself to buy the dresser. i just walked from display to display and took note of what we once owned. it is so hard doing this on my own. i never wanted to be a single mother, but i think it's even harder to be a non-single, single mom. the responsibility of raising a child, while trying to make his life--our life--as normal as possible and include beloved is so hard. i feel like i am on a constant state of pause....and i just wish i could push play.

My Life In Letters

(letters from beloved. he paid someone to decorate the envelopes. they are so beautiful!)

Over the past 8+ months beloved and I have exchanged upwards of 300 letters. Some of them mundane, and many more full of raw energy and wanting. Enclosed in the last letter were two poems. Two beautiful gifts. These letters and words keep me/us going in spite of the distance, and the setbacks, and the feelings of missing and loneliness, and sometimes guilt. Beloved wrote...

With every moment that passes
In every hour of each day
My thoughts reflect like the blue
Of the ocean's waters onto the sky
With the sun rays

It's your smile that fills my inner vision
With a light full of warmth
Penetrating the darkness
with your loving presence
comforting my essence

With every memory of times we shared
Keeping you as my constant companion
I stare as if into thin air
I struggle to keep you near
Through salty tears

So dear, you are where you are
Within me Within us
Within God we trust
What is communicated with each touch
I miss you so much


Today was supposed to be the start of the trial, but once again, the DA wasn't ready. We must wait...and this time, we will have to wait an entire summer for the end, some end, to come to this. I pray that in the waiting we will continue to grow and continue to have faith in each other and in God.

Speaking of God, beloved traded Jesus for Allah and his mother (who is a super holy roller), is in denial. I, on the other hand, have always held true to the belief that Allah, Jesus, Jehovah....are all one in the same. Of course, it's hard explaining this to the peopleI know (esp. considering I am a Baptist minister's granddaughter), but it's how I feel. Last night, I saw a documentary called "Three Faiths, One God" which explored the connections and shared history of Islam, Judaism, and Christianity. It was so fascinating (and affirming). I wish I could send it to beloved. He is just starting to learn what Islam is, and I would hate for him to fall victim to an Imam that preaches separation instead of unity. Everyone of each faith should watch this film and realize that we are all serving the same God. Perhaps then, the conflicts and wars and pain would cease.






Related Tags: poetry, poems, prison, Islam, Christianity, Judaism, documentaries, letters, my life in letters, Three Faiths One God, PBS

Throwback Thursdays: NY Undercover


I have always had a crush on New York City.

When I was 8 my family and I went to NYC with my grandparents. My grandfather, a minister, was conducting a revival at a Bronx church, and my brother and I begged my mom to let us go along. Not for church, but to see the city for ourselves. She eventually caved and we packed up for a 2 week stint in the Bronx.

I was in awe

Even the trip from the airport was an adventure. Our driver/tour guide/pastor of the Bronx church drove like a madman (or so I thought), stopping in the middle of traffic to grab us some "authentic" hot dogs from a man on the corner. The buildings seemed to climb endlessly into the sky, while the iron lion weaved through a maze of apartment buildings. For two weeks I rode around taking in the streets and sounds. I wondered if Sesame Street was real, and if so, could somebody tell me how to get to it. I was in love. And over the years my crush, my lust for the city grew stronger.

Fast forward.

1994. I was a freshman in high school, consumed by Illmatic, and dreaming of packing up and moving to New York City. I sent off for info about NYU and I instantly gravitated to shows/books/films based in the New York. After seeing ad upon ad for a new, urban who-done-it cop show about based in New York and featuring some of hip hop’s finest, I knew I had to watch.



Billed as the new-and-improved Miami Vice, NY Undercover stormed onto Thursday nights and (in my opinion) launched Fox as REAL network. This show crammed sex, drama, the city, and a banging soundtrack into one hot hour. Every Thursday night at 9, Torres and Williams helped me to explore another piece of the city.

For four years I rode shotgun from Harlem to Wall Street, exploring every seedy and siddity part of town. Risking life and limb, Eddie and JC easily morphed into drug dealers, cult members, bikers and drag queens, never failing to catch the perp (and most times a fly girl). From the theme song to the performance at Natalie's, the show had me hooked. Dressed in the latest Karl Kani, Mecca, and PNB gear, Williams and Torres made cops look cool again.

Even though NY Undercover was completely dismantled and killed in 1998, it was good while it lasted. Thanks to reruns on TVOne & Si TV, I can still ride along with the flyest detectives New York has ever seen.



Related Tags: NY Undercover, Malik Yoba, Michael DeLorenzo, Crime Shows, TV Shows, Fox, Crime Drama, Best TV Shows, hip hop, music, cops, cop shows, soundtracks