Lately, I’ve found it exceedingly difficult to blog. To be sure, it’s not because I lack the desire to write and make you privy to my mental awesomeness each Monday morning, but rather because I’ve essentially checked out of the blogging world. I wish I could blame it on my dissertation. (It’s coming along. Not swimmingly, but it’s coming along nonetheless.) I could blame my blogging inactivity on the melanin storm of comments I got over at the Crunk Feminist Collective for talking smack about light-skinned people. (That blog could not pass the brown paper bag test, and folks were not happy.) It’s also likely that my hasty preparation for my fantasy football drafts have slowed my consumption of all things pop culture and news. (Gargamel’s Revenge goes into Monday Night Football with a 32-point lead over its week 1 opponent, while The Flux Capacitors cling to an 18-point lead over A Love Bizarre.) Yet, there are only so many fantasy football podcasts one can listen to until the (presumably) straight, white, obnoxiously nerdy and sport-obsessed male quota has been met and surpassed. All of these statements are true, but inadequately explain my blogging ennui.
Here’s what the film’s creators have to say about the film:
We’re making a movie that we hope will offer a different perspective on Muslims/Islam than what is normally portrayed. As a result, opening the minds & hearts of millions.
With your help we will create a grass roots marketing campaign that will ensure the success of this film before it’s release. This page is yours as much as it is ours. We want all of our supporters to get involved and make this a vibrant, interactive and fun journey to the finish line… And when the movie does come out, it will be a win for us all.
The crew behind this film consists of many different religions, cultures & nationalities. We’re not trying to push anything on anyone… We just have a story to tell.
The first time I’d ever heard the name Willow Smith was earlier this week.
Seemingly out of nowhere, blogs all across the internet were ablaze with praise for a song called “Whip My Hair.” And no, we’re not talking Disney Channel blogs; adult-oriented music (or otherwise) news sites lauded this song as pop gold, a surefire hit, and perhaps the beginning of an incredibly successful career. She has ridiculously famous parents (Will and Jada), but that wasn’t the focus of this media coverage. People really liked this song. And of course, what was apparently most astounding about Willow is that she’s just 9 years old.
I tend to find kid singers annoying so, of course, I ignored all of these bloggers.
I was being an idiot.
Yes, I must admit I have a guilty pleasure. I watch Bravo’s Housewives Series. I know what kind of feminist am I to watch such internalized hatred among women. I know I should be ashamed and given a timeout. But, I am not.
Honestly, I have a love/hate relationship with the entire Bravo’s Housewives’ series. I hate it because of the title of the show—Housewives—is misleading. Most of the women on the show are not housewives they are often fiercely employed independent women who are unabashedly traditionally unfeminine at times—flipping tables, opening their own businesses, and choosing happiness over marriage. I think a more sensible name of the show would be “We Are Thick as Thieves” complements of Carolyn of the New Jersey Housewives or “Who gonna check me Boo” complements of Sheree of the Atlanta Housewives. These names really get at the crux of the show which is fundamentally about drama and more drama. Because we all know either through demonstration or inference that women on the Housewives Series can as my great aunt would say, “Throw down.” Yeah, I probably deserve a time out for watching show.
“America is not at war with Islam.” Richard L. Eubank
A southerner once told me that American racism in the North was worse than in the South. For him, the covert racism he experienced in certain northern cities was more dangerous and misleading. Not sure I ever really understood the call for a more “upfront” racism as it seemed a scary thing that I could be called a “Nigger” in the open or accosted in a way that reminded me of my place in the world. To me, it seemed the subtlety of the North was preferential to the in-your-face racism of the South. But one needs to only think of some of the many forms of “subtlety” to know they can be some of the loudest types of discrimination, from Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policies to the absence of gay marriage. Of course, there is seldom an outright attack on a group (a la slavery, Holocaust), but these small, some would call “covert” acts create a type of invisibility that works to silence particular groups. It is standard hate practice both here and abroad.
At a first glance from the average black female, I’m dateable, if the thought comes across her mind. However, if my fingers should ever cross the knuckles of a white hand, I am dead to her; I am no longer a “brotha.” In this case, you are witnessing a type of black on black hatred that originates from insecurity. Black women and men are dealing with a shortage of swagger in their own skin. The black profile loses it smoothness while sharing space with a white person because our minds operate on an “us” and “them” mode. “Oh, he’s with that white wench, the sistas must not be good for that Uncle Tom,” We’ve heard it all before, right? It’s wrong.
Recently I had a series of discussions with people on Twitter and in real life about Marcus Garvey’s status as a Black leader. I was surprised to find that not everyone respected him or his ideas as much me. Why was I surprised? No idea. His ideas have long been misunderstood as simple back-to-Africa rhetoric couple that with his flamboyant style of dress and his consultation with White separatists and there’s no denying he was and remains a bit of a puzzle.
In life everything comes to an end. (Well most things, poverty is staying pretty consistent on us). But for the most part, things come to an end, eventually. I for one never thought my senior year of high school would end, as the sickness of senioritis went into full fruition at the end of my junior year, but nevertheless, high school ended, and now I am still amazed to find myself in my third year of college. I digress.
Today, an era ends in Chicago and the future is unknown. I say all this because Mayor Daley announced today that he would not be running for re-election. To some people in other cities this might not matter, for the 10 million plus Chicagoans, this is significant. I think the impact of this announcement is summed up well in a statement that one of my students made this summer: “I am graduating high school, and I have only lived under one mayor.”
Racial violence changes student and school
Jesse Washington, Associated Press, September 5, 2010
Urban violence rarely a campaign focus
Andrew Ryan, Boston Globe, September 4, 2010
Major parties offer youth nothing
Ash Pemberton, Green Left, September 4, 2010
Black and Latino boys disrespected, task force finds
Dale Mezzacappa, The Notebook, September 3, 2010
Educators: System Sets Up Black Boys to Fail
Michael Cottman, New America Media, September 3, 2010
Our Youth Don’t Need Bootstraps, They Need Us
Ernest Saadiq Morris, Huffington Post, September 3, 2010
When a black student has problems in a predominantly white school
Jerry Davich, Post Tribune, September 3, 2010
Police, volunteer groups combat youth violence on Metro
Markham Heid, Washington Examiner, September 2, 2010
Too many guns in hands of our youths
Mindi Goodpaster, Indiana Star, September 2, 2010
Youth and violence expert offers advice for Tulsans
Tulsa World, September 2, 2010
Working to keep black, Latino males in school
Dafney Tales, Philadelphia Daily News, September 2, 2010
Murders of young black men rise
Mike Wilkinson, Detroit News, September 2, 2010
Study reveals race gap in college grad rates
Emily Peters, Reporter News, September 2, 2010
Backing the black males
Aubrey Whelan, Philadelphia Inquirer, September 1, 2010
Wanted: Black male teachers across the nation
ReShonda Tate Billingsley, The Madison Times, September 1, 2010
On Labor Day, grim news for young black jobsee
Margaret Simms, Lexington Herald- Leader, September 1, 2010
Youth Doing Hard Time For Nonviolent Crime In Illinois
Staff Writer, Huffington Post, September 1, 2010
No Black Class Presidents Allowed in a Mississippi School
Leah Jones, CW News, August 31, 2010
A grim future for many black males
Bill Maxwell, St. Petersburg Times, August 30, 2010
Urban League president proposes charter school geared toward minority boys
Susan Troller, The Cap Times, August 30, 2010
Multiracial Advocates Change Race-Based Mississippi School Policy
Marcia Dawkins, Huffington Post, August 30, 2010
Leaving young black men behind
Michael Corbin, The Baltimore Sun, August 30, 2010
Play Teaches Juvenile Offenders Valuable Lessons
Melonie Magruder, Calabasas Patch, August 30, 2010
“I will permit no man to narrow and degrade my soul by making me hate him”- Booker T. Washington. We live in a seemingly tolerant nation. We have a Black President, more than dozen female CEO’s of fortune 500 companies, and a few LBTQ members of Congress. Let’s give ourselves a pat on the back. We’re such a great country. We tolerate these people. The hypocrisy in our national rhetoric is sickening. Many of our media/political elite talk about all the human rights travesties in foreign countries as if we are not culpable of the same thing.
As the holy month of Ramadan comes to a close I can’t help but weep for our Muslim brothers and sisters who continue to face an uphill battle for freedom and acceptance in our country. According to Rush Limbaugh, “There is not backlash against Muslims in America. Zip, zero, nada”. I don’t know what prescription pills he was on when he made this statement, but in a land where Mosques are firebombed and a pastor goes on Koran burning crusade, it’s hard to believe that there is no backlash. In 2010 Muslims are the new whipping boys.
60 Minutes | September 5, 2010
There’s a school that’s giving kids from an inner-city neighborhood that only graduates 33 percent of its high school students a shot at college they never had before. Byron Pitts reports on the SEED School. (Read more)
Alrick Brown and Stewart Thorndike
Children speak candidly about race.
A hypothetical question.
You go to jail for an entire year, at the height of your career for buying a small arsenal of weapons, in the parking lot of a shopping mall, on the night of the BET Awards, at which you happen to be a featured performer. You’re facing fed charges that could land you in prison for over ten years, yet you only have to serve a year, probably because you are famous and, in all likelihood, snitched. You tailor everything you’re involved in career-wise to play nicely with this most inconvenient turn of events; a reality show about turning troubled youth away from crime, an album chockfull of earnest sentiments about regret and “turning over a new leaf,” another reality show featuring your longtime girlfriend and babymomma coming to grips with your incarceration, etc. The album is straight crack, your community service requirements have been met, and therefore all seems to have been salvaged.
When you begin serving your time, numerous shout-outs, aforementioned reality shows, and pre-recorded tracks flood the marketplace, successfully keeping your name and work relevant. You receive a hero’s welcome upon your release, and you immediately begin your reinsertion into the pop cultural landscape. You star in and produce a film that tops the box office the week of its release, put out a few solid tracks in advance of a highly anticipated new album, and land a few impressive guest appearances on high profile records.
But when disaster strikes twice and you’re arrested yet again, this time bringing your aforementioned babymomma and now-wife along with you, you’re left with a most confounding predicament; how do you not make the public think you’re irresponsible, idiotic, ungrateful, and potentially addicted to meth, while also staying out of prison?
Sucks right? Well this is exactly the uphill battle currently burdening rapper, actor, and former/future jailbird, T.I.
Ceelo Green has a new song that has gone viral on YouTube. The song is called Fu*k you. It’s a great song and a song I think many people including myself can relate to—the man who wants an XBOX over me the vintage, Atari. Honestly, the song is simply hilarious and given the many fu*ked up things in the world a little laughter is needed. So, thank you Ceelo for bringing a smile to my face today. Also, I have included both versions of Ceelo’s video.
The FDA is responsible for protecting the public health by assuring the safety, efficacy, and security of human and veterinary drugs, biological products, medical devices, our nation’s food supply, cosmetics, and products that emit radiation. The FDA is also responsible for advancing the public health by helping to speed innovations that make medicines and foods more effective, safer, and more affordable; and helping the public get the accurate, science-based information they need to use medicines and foods to improve their health. -Food and Drug Administration
With the latest food recall still underway, one could make the argument that members of the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) don’t actually eat food, at least not the the same things they are allowing to make it to our plates. Or perhaps the FDA only employs individuals with private gardens and free roaming chickens in their own spacial backyards. If so, the rampant oversight and lack of quality assurance makes more sense. Not saying it is right, but it would be easier to digest it all. Instead, there are few guidelines and regulations, and as a result even fewer plans in place to deal with public panic and illness once bad apples actually make their way into the bunch. Occasionally, regulatory laws are put forth, but companies often find the cost to implement them too high and the penalty for ignoring them too low. It is often more economical to do the wrong thing. British Petroleum (BP), anyone?