The conscious humyn evaluates and integrates various influences of style regardless of race, gender or and social divisions. If “male” has a significance, you could receive the conscious male and his personality as influenced by Sade or Nina Simone. He, or better the humyn, could express a masculinity/femininity that is too distinct for either/or. Manifesting the Sade in him, he’s not afraid to express his experience of the sweetest taboo. Nothing’s loss of his power to create in the world, though he may tell you that he wants to feel an intense love like no other.
Dedicated to the girl with the red beret. To dissing me for writing about celebrities lately.
Rumor goes that, in Chicago, they shut down the predominantly Black/Latin@ bus routes early to keep us away from the white spaces. Route 80-Ashland, Route 70-Division, just to name a couple, make it hard to experience the nightlife of the metropolis on foot patrol. Philly’s going through the same thing; they got two major train lines that call it a night a few minutes past 12. It’s the story of our lives: the free movement of our bodies causes too much of a security issue to not curb. No don’t tell me that there’s justification, because you’re gullible enough to permit these institutions to classify the crimes of a few individuals as knowledge about the lives of colored people. If this talk is real then you should know that the management of colored people in motion is embedded in a world view.
For those that don’t know, in one of Marvel’s most famous comics, White Peter Parker has died and now an interracial male will be Spider-Man. Of course, popular talk about the new Spidey, Miles Morales (a combination of traditional Black and Latino names), yields more props to Obama. In order to do right by colored peoples’ voices there must be a distinction between governmental agendas and the liberating actions of the oppressed. The new Spider-Man series is not a government-issued reparation, but a takeover of meaning and race by racialized people.
It feels like marijuana smoke has been filling the sky more than ever these days. Behind every humyn activity follows a library of music to support it; so the existence of music that speaks casually about “weed” implies a culture heavily influenced by “the green”. In America, Black people have witnessed an undying tradition of music being made for smoking marijuana. Rappers like Wiz Khalifa and Curren$y, coming after the origins of Funk along with the antics of Rick James, broadcast a striving of the Black experience. This striving is born of struggle (shout outs to Leonard Harris) and therefore stimulates an attitude of resistance, distinguished from the functionally passive youth violence.
Too many make the mistake of directing energy toward formality or “making official” their relationships. As if listing dating-experience on a resume has gotten anyone a job, the misinformed forget that everything exists, that, in particular, love is more than words floating around facebook and gossip. Some folks walk away from a reality with bitterness in their stride because they never reach the point of wearing the title, “girlfriend”. They have not gotten the point.
So it has come to mind lately that sexuality begins with responses to someone else’s arousing actions. Completely dependent on the first occasions of sexual excitement, sexuality also stands before us freely, not committed to hetero or homo orientations. When we talk about molestation and refer to it as a crime, we talk about adults that pervert the innocence of a child; or applying similar words, we talk about adults that interrupt a child’s normal path to sexuality, while sickly achieving easy sexual satisfaction. Contrasts between deviant routes to sexual activity (molestation) and normal routes interest me because, if I think about it, sexuality is never individualistic. We cannot think about our sexuality without the encouragement of other people to use our bodies in ways suitable for privacy. At best, our disgust with molesters prefers that children develop their sexual personalities with others that are equally impressionable and curious, but they cannot avoid being acted upon.
There have been too many occasions in which a Black business has taken advantage of its customers for the sake of maximizing their income. A boatload majority of the support for these businesses comes from other Black people, and in effect, the profit-focused regulation creates a sad reality. Economic projects, whether entrepreneurship or achievement of employment, should always start for generating wealth on behalf of the people. I have a valid prescription since the statistics of poverty consists of mostly Blacks and Hispanics. First condition: Our thin pockets have suffered racist obstacles of entering the workforce (discrimination by names with more three syllables, etc.). Another condition: all the options for consuming are without integrity and largely without Black descent. Some bosses have formed their Black businesses correctly (with scholarships, , but they are not the point. We still have some stakeholders pocket their exploitation of Blacks without any remorse, never to contribute to the welfare of the people.
Whatever the name, Black Studies, Africana studies, or African American Studies, university disciplines designed for understanding African history have a problem of attempting to be too Black. When I say “too Black” I’m not saying that Africana culture (relates to both African and African-Diaspora culture) is annoying, but that the way that scholars handle it can be ridiculous. Most programs are afro-centric, (they teach that everything originates from Africa) so every discussion feels heavy on the criticism of how un-African everyone and everything is. In the case that American education still fascinates itself with European culture disproportionately, I can understand the normal procedures of Africana studies. Regardless though, these programs were set up to help lead the political agendas of Black folks. And as it stands it forgets that the struggle of Black people is the same struggle of enslaved peoples and self-proclaimed masters worldwide.
So…Good Morning America gets their studio trashed and tilts their heads in confusion. Why the awesomeness Robin Roberts? On Tuesday Chris Brown visited the ABC morning show, where he was asked to participate in an interview. And of course after two years of repenting for the incident with Rihanna, Robin Roberts, unlike a true friend, couldn’t help with the process of forgiveness. Completely ignoring the obvious tension of Chris Brown, she proceeded to pick at the touchy subject. In the few moments after the interview, a window backstage was found broken, and Robert later responded: “I was shocked like everybody else because we’ve had a wonderful relationship.” The alleged spazzing-out of Chris Brown reveals the heavy weight of fame; it’s an atmosphere of non-sincerity. Media demands that Chris Brown fit the profile of a “thug,” although its correspondents and anchors act like they want to reconcile his past for the world. Could there be some dehumanizing bs surrounding the media? Hell yeah.
Dedicated to Gopher! I support you ma.
Nothing spikes my blood pressure quicker than non-Black people that change their demeanor around Black people. It occurs mostly between womyn; non-Blacks add “u’s” to “girl”, perform the two snaps and around gesture, push their lips out to say “boo boo!”—the list goes on. A little imitation of your culturally different friends has never been a problem, but it’s getting to a point where there is no precedent. Now every sidewalk where Black folks encounter people from different races is a stage. And brown skin marks the humorous people enough to make Blackface unnecessary. You know where I’m going. Minstrel shows seem to not have died out, in fact they are much realer, and they continue to make Black people harder to take seriously.
What’s scarier than a racist that calls out “nigger” or “coon” viciously? The racist who’s night you save by being the “token blacky”. I pose two disappointments for the eager audience at a non-black party: no weed and no freestyle. Still I manage to be the life of the party, dougieing on every song, judging rap skills, and—check this out—having big lips. Although I get a lot more love at these parties, I can’t help but realize how socially destructive they are. What’s really under all this amusement is a non-black majority (usually White) taking delight in my abnormality.
Oh no! The folks back home will never stop smacking their lips over this one. As African American Studies grows across the nation, its scholarly diversity does not fall behind. Could white professors be added to the “things keeping Black people down” list? Possibly, but the fall of Black academia shouldn’t be instantly expected. Many of you, with folded arms right now, have already made the fatal mistake of pitting experience as the only knowledge of struggle. Did you hear me? I said that a white teacher can understand why Langston Hughes has to say he knows rivers; or similarly, scream with Nina Simone in Mississippi.
You know. We always talk about education saying it as the answer to everything, yet we never talk about actual lessons. Talking about learning something, everyone knows about our culture: chicken induced diabetes, large rolling stone penises, the list goes on. The feeling “I’m f@cked up” extends to us as a whole when we too only know, nothing else; not thinking about solutions, just leaving our problems at the level of knowledge. We know we are spiraling downward, and nothing else needs to be said. But wait, we aren’t dead yet. I hear cats that say the conversation’s played out—I feel that—why don’t we bring up new points? Let’s consider exhibit A: undeniably racist encounters with police officers are regular routines among us with the dark skin. We know right? On the flipside, learning truly begins when we stop telling ourselves “there’s nothing we can do.”
We are living in that twenty-first century… Suicidal bombings, Dark Knight’s Joker, Kid Cudi and Kanye West black rose pop music display the new relationships to death. It was death that kept the powerless from doing whatever they pleased; think about “crime,” we approached it slowly, in fear of either real death—execution—or social death, getting locked up. Who would expect a soul desperate for freedom to not welcome death after generations of being bound by death to the worst case scenarios? Coming out the c-section of the anti-black world, the ghettoes, are the scariest group of black youth because the fear of death is dead.
Watch video all the way through.
I don’t know what’s scarier: the black extremist advocating for genocide or the black reverend who makes white people out to be victims of unequal media coverage. No doubt, neither of them should represent black folks but the reverend is what most of our successes will grow to be. Black parents that want to guide their children down the path of dignity explain to their kids, at an early age, that they must wear the mask. For generations we’ve been told the same lie about dealing with the anti-black world. That lie is that we can beat it by conforming to the demands of white culture— which has tragically become to be the standard for respect of all races. What our loving parents are not realizing is that most of us won’t return to seeing truth, that the anti-black world is set up for us fail, no matter how extraordinary we are. We end up getting away from becoming successful as a black person or rather ourselves. That reverend has lost his mind from over-conformity. Is this really where we our heads to be?