This I Believe: Co-Parenting
"Parenting is a dance." ~ from This I Believe: Communication & Dance
Out of a bedrock of false starts, opaque walls and denied inspiration does this essay arise amongst the most difficult feelings I have struggled to capture thus far in this series. I find myself fixed between the desire to indulge the fierce honesty which courses beneath the surface my present writing life while being careful of the temptation towards copious verbiage realizing that saying too much can be as broad a shield as saying too little. My art is the proof and substance of that proverb. Poetry is a whimsical suit fashioned in an attempt to clothe my failures and frailties in colorful garments that you might attend to them more readily than you do those other ugly things you are soon to learn about me. This is why I am ever in conflict when writing about a thing which inspires either vexation or pain. Do you see how I crouch behind the myth of my words?
"Co-parent" and "co-parenting" are two terms for which I have developed a certain zealous affinity as of late. The story begins in the course of one typically awkward moment which most co-parents may find familiar where both are present in some social situation and a third party poses the question "Is this your wife/husband?" Always accompanied by a precocious smile. Both parents turn to each other for a brief, uncomfortable glance before issuing a nearly simultaneous "No." This is followed by a halfhearted and habituated explanation such as "this is Jah'kaya's father/mother".
After enduring yet another of these curious encounters, I began to wonder to myself why I had allowed my relationship with Auset to be truncated inside of a term which implied the only connection we held was filtered through the affairs of our child. I have envisioned my life as filled with lessons worthy to be understood not only by myself, but made available for the growth of others. I began to ponder how I could redirect the language towards a more fitting understanding of how she and I are presently positioned in each other's life when I began considering the term "co-parent".
I am sure that I overheard the term in some previous discussion, but I don't think I had come to grasp the full comprehension of it until just that moment. We do not operate mutually exclusive drop off centers. We interact with each other and plan together. We talk to one another and discuss new prospects happening in each of our lives. The degree to which we have been able to initiate an open discourse in our parental relationship has abridged the amount each parent must labor to be aware of what is going on in the life of our child. As her needs change, we are able find ways in which each parent may adapt for the lack of availability of the other.
No one should be struck with the romantic notion that this level of engagement came easily for either one of us. We parted households soon after Jah'kaya was born. I was certain I had failed and withdrew from our circle of mutual friends out of fear that I might be called to account for that failure. I had been fired from a position at American Pharmaceutical Partners on December 31, 2001 which saw me take a 7 month free fall during which we lost our apartment in Woodlawn and found our relationship rapidly fracturing by the time we moved to a new location in Hyde Park. We lingered on as most separated couples do seeking to ascertain if there was still the potential for making it work. I recall telling my mother even a year after Jah'kaya's birth I was certain that Auset and I would be together. This would not come to pass.
We each navigated our way though those 5 stages of grief. Denial. "This is just a growth phase that we must to go through. All will return to normal soon." Anger. "If you would simply stop blaming me for (x), then you could see what you are missing." Bargaining. "How can I change (y) so that we can make it whole again?" Depression. "I never want to think about love anymore." Acceptance. "I'm sorry. I understand. How do we move forward?"
In my journey to stop blame shifting, I had to find the flaws in my own character which contributed to weakening the relationship including an unrealistic portrait of manhood bordering upon dictatorial patriarchy, a lack of communication about our shared problems and a desire to be independent of any need inside of the relationship. We share mutual blame for its failure. In working to repair the fractures of the past, I have continually reshaped my ideal of the person I bring into future relationships even once finding myself a dogmatic proponent institutional marriage as I again grappled with internalized patriarchy.
Here I stand now nearly 10 years grown from that point on July 15, 2002 at 9:59 pm when Jah'kaya Sirius Tekhen entered this life and discovered me hastily attempting to retool myself into the sort of father required of such a dynamic human being. Auset and I have managed to trade off through most of those years. She facilitated birth and primary years through age 3. I was able to preside over her enrollment at New Concept Development Center and later guided many of her activities between Kindergarten and 4th grade. During my most recent career and contract transition, Auset has returned to directing Jah'kaya's schedule again.
Through all of these iterations and changes in our individual adult lives, we communicate with one another. I seek to help her not simply with the affairs of the child, but whatever process she might be engaging. I recognize that to the extent I can make life easier for her, I make life more stable for our child and the familial community we have created around that child.
I am fortunate to have come from a pair of remarkable role models for a non-traditional, non-nuclear family unit. My mother and father divorced when I was a mere 5 years of age. I moved south with my mother soon thereafter where she was remarried to my stepfather, James. He came with a daughter and son, Washay and Jayvonnie who remained in Chicago, but came to visit us on occasion in Louisiana. My older brother, Rahsaan, and I would return to Chicago each summer where we were welcomed into the arms of a larger family as my father had remarried my stepmother, Geneva. She brought with her 2 sons, Willie and Denardo as well as 2 daughters, Shayla and Shenitha.
My mother and father throughout their own transition have remained steadfast friends. I always knew my father and both respected and feared his authority. I felt his love not only for me, but for my mother. His proximity as a continuing co-parent was even known to make some of my mother's future companions jealous. As I have grown in life, my mother was also in the habit of adopting many other individuals into the fold of our growing family. I have cousins as close as my own siblings and godsisters whom my mother treats the same as her own daughters. Did I neglect to mention my oldest brother, Antoine, and oldest sister, Danielle?
All of these growth experiences together and those which I continue to encounter have shown me that only part of family consist of the ties we share by blood and birth. Much of what holds us taut to each other is the substance of what we endure that draws us nearer together as a family unit. I believe in co-parenting. Both the word itself and the substance behind that word. Time has certainly changed how families are formed. While we have seen some detrimental effects of these changes where children are caught in the middle, co-parenting offers us the opportunity to change the paradigm and create a space where children are richly nurtured and allowed to prosper. I made more than one choice when my relationship ended. There was the decision that although Auset and I might not be right for each other, we could still be completely right together. There are no more awkward meetings. This is Auset and she is my co-parent.
If you have found yourself on a co-parenting journey of your own, I highly recommend viewing the resources available at Co-Parenting 101. While I have only discovered them within the past week of researching this article, I have found them to be an incredibly valuable resource for discovering new ways to make the act of parenting together a more richly rewarding experience for all members of the family.
In Radiant Praise Of The Sweet Goddess Project
Destination: Experimental Station. Several years ago while residing in my Hyde Park apartment on 48th and Drexel, I struck upon the idea of purchasing a bike for some light travel through the neighborhood during the warmer months.
When evaluating places to purchase a ride, Blackstone Bicycle Works arose as the nearest available option. I had first learned of Blackstone while doing community resource mapping with City Year, but the unusual hours they kept prevented me from paying a visit to the shop. Upon finally deciding to drop in, I set out on the bus with the address transcribed in a notebook. After 5 cycles pacing the 2 blocks between 61st and 63rd Street, I surmised that this trip and my phone calls would prove fruitless for the day.
A balmy Sunday evening last November found me curiously repeating the same process I had done so many years earlier. I never did find the Experimental Station after my first failed attempt. Were it not for another couple hustling their way across the street from a parked car, I might have gone away puzzled on this occasion too. Seeking not to arouse suspicion, I followed them around the corner toward the inconspicuous entrance. Once inside, we were welcomed to the Sweet Goddess Project by a gracious hostess and a flurry of literature as I toted my traveling music bag in preparation for dancing at the Shrine later that evening.
The exposed red brick wall and photo array to the rear of the performance floor foreshadowed the experience to come. A reminder of the gritty origins of underground dance born of any shelter offering open floor space and running electricity. Yellow and blue lighting framed the stage on either side hearkening back to the optics that existed on that night and that dance floor where you stood and you listened as everything was forever rearranged in your life. The DJ teased us with a mesh of electronic and world sounds at one point folding in a kalimba leading us closer to an audio crescendo, but drawing back before it culminated any movement.
My eyes darted between a Moleskine notebook and the audience. Each time I threw a glance about the room I found another familiar face from our exuberant community of dance living and breathing beneath the Chicago night. There was an immediate expansion of joy within my heart as we came together to partake of this expression. It was a feeling of kinship that existed here amongst us loving the music, embracing that sound and inhabiting a lifestyle. Enter Meida with her ever so gentle reminder, request and demand to silence all cell phones or other noisemaking devices.
Beyond this point in the performance, I must admit that I can not be entirely faithful to the journalistic intent. Writing notes about this show became increasingly difficult as I found myself so deeply engaged in the music, movement and layered visual experience that I was compelled to bang my drum at quiet and loud intervals throughout the show. My writing hand hushed so promptly that I found only time to jot down a series of terms hoping they might assist me later in transcribing verbally what I had experienced emotionally.
Playful. Brash. Synchronized. Spontaneous. Reminiscent. Nostalgic. Jazzy. Electric. Soulful. Soft. Sinew. Sticky. You may assemble those words in whatever order offers you the greatest measure of meaning and utility.
The Project made brilliant use of a series of video interviews that were done with a group of women regarding their experiences in the house music scene in order to punctuate the transition from one performance to another. These interviews covered first virgin steps into the party and onto the dance floor, carving spaces in party promotion and DJ'ing and extending the engagement of House music far beyond mere entertainment or social diversion into the arena of a philosophical construct for how we move through through the world as seen and felt vividly through women's eyes.
I am a zealot, enthusiast, devotee and acolyte for the work of the Sweet Goddess Project and Honey Pot Performance, but you shouldn't take my word for it. You should investigate and discover their process for yourself. On February 3rd and 4th, the collective will be performing at Northwestern University's Marjorie Ward Marshall Dance Center in the Ballroom Theater. For more information on how you can partake in this work, visit the Honey Pot Performance blog or their invite on Facebook.
On The Day Of My Death To No One In Particular
I am no more worthy to be mourned than I was worthy to be born. Had the proportional proximity of my mother's abortion cut any closer, you might consider me a mystery. No headstone should you wish to visit me. Our relational symmetry won't be held sacred. I have cultivated a habit of appearing at the funeral rites of others only to culminate irony when I miss my own. When you pull my rigid corpse beyond the threshold of my home, take it directly to be consumed in some liquefied tomb, make me bone ash powder at the base of a new tree or entomb me in stone and cast me out to sea. Now continue operating in the world as if I still exist. There is neither a single dance, open mic nor Market Day which for my absence should be missed. Celebrate me with movement being consumed in the work of building community. Become an instrument in the band playing an infinite orchestration of action oriented unity like you and me were one entity and you wanted to make sure I didn't forget.
What Would Tekhen Do (WWTD)?
never be afraid to scratch / white out / or edit your life / scrap the poem / or rip the page / stop reciting and leave the stage
read every day / write every day / the mantra
advocate involvement / where others watch from the sidelines / position them to play a role in the picture
build something to last
........life continues still.
Noose On My Finger by Tichaona Chinyelu
Marriage has been a subject of contemplation in my mind for a period of just over one month. It was initiated by a brief Twitter discussion with Nichole Black regarding the necessity for reform in the institution and the desire for a society that would not view with such disdain any woman who was comfortable in her singlehood.
Soon thereafter, Nichole penned an article entitled "Thou Shall Not Submit: Christianity, Marriage And Dissent" which I invested myself in reading later becoming distracted by some scriptural commentary included in the article. Also during this period, I decided that I should pick up a text which I had been planning to read entitled "Contraband Marriage" by a writing colleague named Tichaona Chinyelu. The convergence of these two texts in my mind during this period brought me to reconsider where I stood on the issue of marriage as I have traveled the spectrum in the course of the past ten years as noted in my final review of "Contraband Marriage".
I stand at a shifting point somewhere between a communal commitment between two people and an anarchic rejection of the principles that currently inhabit the marital institution in most people's mind. I don't imagine these thoughts will settle upon any one position soon, but when I completed my reading of "Contraband Marriage", this piece spoke of what I perceived as the greatest threat to the marital institution. When it serves to make both parties of the commitment less free to express their whole selves, it becomes a threat to creativity, innovation and the evolution of the family unit that serves as the foundation of a community.
Noose On My Finger by Tichaona Chinyelu
It's a thin circle of precious metal
that was stolen from the earth
and brought to a store far from its source
where it was bought by a brother
doing another brother a favor.
Then it was blessed by a chaplain
I have neither love nor respect for
and put on my finger.
It is not good
but I struggle to see it as good.
I have our names etched on the underside
the side that touches my flesh.
I wear it for almost three years
until you tighten it like it's a noose
until it starts to strangle my flesh
until I realize that if I keep it on
I'll die.
And I wasn't born to die.
My mother's hips didn't crush me
when I was in the womb.
My father's defection didn't stop me
from sliding down the canal.
I wasn't born to die.
We play tug of war with it.
I take it off.
You put it back on.
We go back and forth
until my finger is bruised and battered.
I tell you
with my hand in this condition
I can't write.
You smile.
I look at the smile.
I listen to what it says.
It is not good.
It is not good for me.
I play tug of war with myself.
And I win.
I remove the noose from around my finger.
Review: Contraband Marriage
Contraband Marriage by Tichaona Chinyelu
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
"Unofficially contraband
Like weeds that dare to subvert
Concrete
Loving him, marrying him
Prisoner,
Felon,
Gangster,
Thug
Was something
That wasn't supposed to happen" ~ "Contraband Marriage"
Contraband Marriage digested as a complete treatise is an exquisitely tender collection of material juxtaposed against the writing I originally encountered of Tichanona Chinyelu. Those first experiences with her work were conceptually jarring. Her words moved in the manner of serrated blade edges drawing nary a punch when slicing towards the meat of matters both personal and political. The physical and emotional landscape she evokes is a drastic contrast of dystopic futurism and afro-diasporic classicism. I would often need to separate my reading of her work with lengthy periods of reorientation returning later for a consolidated review of any new material.
This manuscript differed from those encounters both in style and substance. I was able to complete the text in a span of two days. Those two days were filled with a range of emotional experiences including the frustration of co-parenting, relational indifference and somber post-rupture nostalgia also known as the break up blues. As I sat down to write this review, I stopped myself at the outset contemplating whether I had breezed through the text too briskly. Then I decided that I should go back and reread the entire collection again concerned that I might overlook some jewel or not merit the full attention necessary for each verse. After nearly 30 days, having finished my second pass at a far more patient pace, I returned to consider again this review and the insightful critique of marriage and relationships offered within its pages.
In a distant past, I considered myself anti-institutional and refused to honor the societal ideal of marriage. Any definition that involved rings and ceremonies was socially constructed to enforce a conformity to which I refused to subscribe. Some years later I was struck with an intense yearning to submit to an institution that I then thought helped reinforce long term commitments when both people announced their intention before a communal body who would then hold them to that pledge. Today as I stand a little bit older, wiser and more aware of how my choices affect my child and others around me, I live somewhere in the middle of those two polarities. Marriage is an institution in dire need of modern reform, but we must all and each of us find a way to create lasting commitments to one another which strengthen the ideals of community, family and nation.
Chinyelu's text engages an evolutionary pathway displaying tiny milestones throughout which detail how she discovered herself as a lover, wife, mother, woman and daughter. While initially an artistic journey channeling a social critique of institutionalized marriage, the book also succeeds as a socio-political critique of imprisonment and criminalized bodies as Chinyelu charts her growing love for an inmate of one of America's rapidly accumulating correctional facilities.
In "Vienna", the author reaches into ancestral memory to contemplate how those whom battled against circumstance to complete the Great Migration might view their great grandchildren in the era of the prison industrial complex. The title piece elucidates the dull and abiding heartache involved in maintaining a love for someone which inspires her to "subvert concrete walls / barbed wire fences / laws that change on Sundays" until finally they are afforded the minor victory of a prison marriage kiss. In the back of the reader's mind, one imagines it a victory short lived as the newly wedded husband is distanced from his wife once again by those same concrete walls and barbed wire fences.
Chinyelu divides each part of the book into subsections outlining for us those first inklings of her contraband affair which find us wading first through "The Murky Matter" where she wrestles with lessons of intimacy learned by loving both inside and outside of the walls of the prison even touching briefly upon the loneliness that might seek to draw her outside of the bounds of fidelity. "Mutterings to Myself" finds our first experience of the fractures forming within the relationship between the author and her muse as she wonders aloud if it is his prison experience or his own embattled personality which she is loving against.
In "...then comes science", we find the relationship has reached critical mass resulting in one of the most poignant remarks on the internal oppressive dynamic of marriage to be found within the text which arrives by way of the selection "Noose on my finger" declaring "We play tug of war with it / I take it off / You put it back on. / We go back and forth / until my finger is bruised and battered. / I tell you / with my hand in this condition / I can't write / You smile". The subsection ends with her eventual escape from the marital institution with a new child in tow who becomes the birth of a new subsection entitled "the small axe" that opens with the magnificent act of reparation entitled "To the Father of My Son". This selection echoes with the weary nostalgia of a relationship lost and their shared connection in the birth of a child ending with an olive branch which beckons "I still remember the love / that made me want you as the father of my child / and I hope that wherever life takes you / you find the peace you're looking for / and I hope it opens the doors of your mind / so sankara can have another place he can walk into".
Contraband Marriage closes with Chinyelu consummating her internal self discovery at the end of this stage of her journey leading a series of mantras to call us beyond our fears and contradictions in "The Grace of a Decision" chanting that "We can be heavy with gravity / - too overloaded with circuitry to pay attention to heart - / Doomed to die instead of do." This is the substance of her assembled wisdom on a very specific type of love and marriage as she experienced it. This granular specificity does not negate its application to a wider conversation about marriage in its societal context.
Can a society that would seek to so wholly circumscribe the acts of bodies of black people from loving, living or learning in the context of prison really be the arbiter or keeper of such a sacred institution or should we find a way to define those boundaries for ourselves? Can we come up with a definition of marriage that makes sense to us though it may be entirely contraband and abnormal to society at large?
View all my reviews
Late Fall Musings on Aniba Hotep & the Sol Collective
"Give that baby water / And bath her in the garden of the sun / Give that baby water / Cause water will go back to where it is from / Freedom" ~ Give That Baby Water by Aniba Hotep & the Sol Collective
In April of 2010, I developed a serious audiophile obsession after being within earshot of a group known as Aniba Hotep & the Sol Collective. I later discovered they had released an album entitled "Sol of a Goddess" which I knew was a must have for my audio collection. While they had a website posted, the Paypal link on the site wasn't active for processing payment. Neither deterred nor defeated, I reached out to some band members I found to be part of my social network. I was not in the least disappointed for my effort. The album was a warm, lush concoction of live instrumentation and layered vocal arrangements which fulfilled long forgotten musical yearnings and sauntered gently through my ears. It was indeed and in fact a delicious assemblage of sound. I later went on to purchase their follow up EP "The SOLution" which continued the tradition of beautiful music established in the orchestration of this first album.
With all of the enjoyment I had experienced from recorded material, I had not yet seen them play a live show despite numerous opportunities having arisen. On October 22nd, I decided to rectify that as I sat in Wicker Park at Jerry's sipping on one too many bottles of a generous selection of hard ciders: Ase Pear, Hard Julian and Original Sin. This might not have been such a terrible thing were it not for the fact that I had spent much of the day in my role at the Healthy Food Hub as the Dancing Cashier. By the time I arrived at the show, I was acutely exhausted. Never afraid to push the envelope in writing, dance or life, I took the time to wet my face and kept busy etching at my notebook until the show started so that drowsiness would not overtake me.
I took down a few observations about the venue which seemed a slight small to me. We in the artistic world classify these spaces as cozy when drawing your attention away from the fact that you should be careful not to bump the person to your rear when exiting to the restroom. I didn't make any bones about that as it would certainly make for a more intimate concert experience. I noted the eclectic, artful decor; the warm, ambient lighting. Jerry's had done well to set the mood for those whose sojourn here found them on date night.
While I sat nursing the first cider, one of the hosts came to ask me if I might be able to change my seat in order to accommodate two sisters wanting to be seated together. This shifted me from the long side of the table to the seat on the end which to my delight turned out to be center floor and the most optimum viewing angle for the main event. The show set in motion just after 10:30 pm when "The Big Payback" sounded the triumphant onset of a playful jam session amongst the members of the Sol Collective. The crowd warmed up while fingers snapped and shouts of musical approval were bandied about generously.
The background vocalists made their way to the stage first in fabulously fitted blue pantsuits. Aniba came forward shortly thereafter in what appeared to be a black sash, blue halter and black pants though I Iater came to wonder if the color of the pants might not have been a deception of lighting. The band brought the change up and suddenly we were engulfed in a Sol Collective rendition of The Mary Jane Girls' "All Night Long" which found the musicians playing a little too loudly against the vocals, but still extending forward the playfulness of the opening jam session. Suddenly a question struck me as I examined each aspect of the stage, "Are they barefoot?" I was tickled in the deepest part of my belly at that realization, the intimacy of this minor detail only serving to enchant me further. After I watched the EPK a few more times, I realized that they play most of their dates in a similarly Earth-grounded manner. As a dancer who delights in any excuse for going barefoot, I honor that.
The selection that followed listed in my notes only as "Sweet Talker" found the vocals much tighter with some intriguing drum transitions. By the time they had set themselves upon "Who's Gonna Save My Soul Now?" and "Waiting On You", I was thoroughly delighted by their choice of complex vocal arrangements in both cover songs and original material. Aniba proved unafraid to play staccato over the track or add new flavor to well established songs using jazz and gospel technique claiming the voice as its own magnificent instrument.
"Sweet Thing" was remixed with all of the buttery soft and soulful nostalgia that Chaka's original invoked as she vocally looped the opening line "I will love you anyway". The Sol Collective's rendition of "It's Love" found all of these abilities colliding inside of a single song. Aniba, Neri and Caress' choral interplay and the band's skillful smooth transition indicative of classic jam session musicianship showed in their skill for claiming a contemporary cut with a still strong resonance. Aniba again played with the levels in her voice in similar character to Jill's own antics on the original song until the band threw us a head spin by playing the break from "Da Butt" before changing back to the closing harmonies from "It's Love" to end the first set.
The group went on to play 3 more sets that evening. This first set was described as "Uptempo". Set number two was "Soft Soul'. Set number three was "Jazz". Set number four was described simply as "Soul". The highlight of the second set was a gem that seems to absent from both of their albums which I think was called "Landmark" during which Aniba recounted living in Virginia for many years and coming to Chicago to start a new life. This combination of lyrics and words that I drew down for my notes entailed the following "Don't stay where you have already left / I don't want to be your landmark / Runaway / Say everything you've ever wanted to say to me / Cause I don't know when I'll be coming back to town". This year marks her 34th year on the planet. While I was playing the "Sol of a Goddess" album at a recent Healthy Food Hub Market Day, Dr. Jifunza's ears perked up and asked "Who is that? Aretha?" "No Dr. J. That's Aniba Hotep & the Sol Collective." I think that mistake on the part of a listener from a generation steeped in soul should portend all you need to know about how deeply the Sol Collective has mined the soul tradition of the past while being attentive to the evolution of the future landscape of soul music. Check out their EPK below and when you are done, visit their fan page on Facebook so that you won't have any excuse for not being in the front row of their next show. Your so(u)l will undoubtedly be replenished.
A Romance In Lower Mathematics w/Mary Jane Burns (Taushia Griswold)
logic spoke thru my cold soul..
by conscience i was told
it made zero sense
please..my damaged amygdala
((which couldnt calculate
romance in lower math
even if it had
an abacus w/heart shaped beads))
concluded it didnt
i was the equivalent of self reliance
an innocence defiant
not so tender 9
the 1st time i witnessed
what i thought
was my mirrored reflection
a potentially crazy
well rounded dot
of perfection
oddball perception sum might say
w/an easy enough name
tho i called her ‘daisy blossom flower baby’ anyway
i watched her dribble
symbols of love over a squiggle
& by age 36 i found myself doin the same
and my
straight line
approach
ever willing victim
to the total sum
of tunnel vision
could sense
somehow the
attractive
magnitude
of his
messy
magnetism
i followed
thermoplastic
yellow road paint
as the wheel
of her heart
rolled on
left wedge
lever
and
inclined plane
in her path
simple
mechanisms
seeming only
to launch
her forward
towards
final decision
deciding
it better
that i fashion
myself
a prism
and imprison her
heart
in cages
of brilliant
spectral light
that if
someway
somewhere
she should
escape tonight
she would
know
the color
of my love
now shaded
blue
inloveofmathematics&writingart!
the aolinearthinkspeak
Review: On Being Black
On Being Black by Charles T. Davis
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
"My long-crushed spirit rose, cowardice departed, bold defiance took its place; and I now resolved that, however long I might remain a slave in form, the day had passed forever when I could be a slave in fact." ~ Excerpt from the Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass
The most important use of the anthology is to draw to the fore those literary passages which have been previously overlooked or otherwise subverted beneath other writings of greater acclaim. Another very necessary application of the anthology is to create a topical umbrella under which a keen eye can be focused on a single motif as it threads itself through a variety of literature over time. "On Being Black" manages to accomplish both of these aspects with magnificent deft, insight and comprehensiveness. The elusive and mutable nature of race and identity in America has provided a complex construct for black people to navigate in comprehending the nature of blackness as a thing that one must circumscribe for themselves and either live within or desperately plot to escape.
The line initially quoted above appears in the "Narrative" as included in the 'First Stirrings" section of "On Being Black". Soon after I completed my reading of this anthology, the line reappeared in my subsequent reading of "The Black Panthers Speak" as evidence of the legacy of black resistance flowing between Douglass' battle with Edward Covey and the Panthers emergence from the black community as a revolutionary political force. In that text, Philip Foner argues that both events are connected by Fanon's assertion in "The Wretched of the Earth" that only through revolutionary violence could be accomplished the transformation and rebirth of the black personality which had been severely underdeveloped through centuries of violent oppression.
Here lies the critical importance of what this anthology seeks to accomplish in collecting writings on how we have wrestled with the question of blackness over time. As the ways in which race is defined has changed, so has our opinion of the significance of race. As the conditions of oppression either rise or fall, the discussion of blackness is manipulated by forces that are not explicitly racial in nature. Though we must keep in mind that the absence of an explicit racial quality within a condition does not preclude the possibility that said condition can be racially coded including political latitude, class, poverty and community development. This may be shown in our present era of political claw back upon social programs originally created to equalize historical inequities.
The first era charts those initial stirrings of a people yearning for a sense of independence and struggling through literary means to express their intellect (W.E.B. DuBois), work ethic (Booker T. Washington), culture (Paul Laurence Dunbar) and religiosity (James Weldon Johnson). Sometimes we find these moments colliding with one another and raining down upon us at the very same time as in a second set of selections offered from DuBois; "The Song of the Smoke" and "A Litany at Atlanta". In "A Litany...", DuBois employs a strident liturgical petition in a cynical retort to black religious fervor as he ponders the hand of God inside of the racial terror being inflicted upon black people crying out at one point "Doth not this justice of hell stink in Thy nostrils, O God? How long shall the mounting flood of innocent blood roar in Thine ears and pound in our hearts for vengeance?".
The second era maps those initial breakaways from the emulation of white cultural forms coming with the arrival of the New Negro Renaissance as we hear Alain Locke ushering the era forward with "The Negro's Contribution" moving as a natural outgrowth of DuBois' espousal of the "Talented Tenth". Black dialect is more loosely employed in lengthy mixed poetic and prosaic form as the excerpt from "Kabnis" of Jean Toomer's "Cane" or Eric Walrond's short tale "The Yellow One". Langston Hughes posits an argument that will be continued through the end of the century and live on even in our present with his essay "The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain" where he states "But this is the mountain standing in the way of any true Negro art in America--this urge within the race toward whiteness, the desire to pour racial individuality into the mold of American standardization, and to be as little Negro and as much American as possible."
The close of the Renaissance idealism ushers in what might be termed a darker period, pun intended. We find America passing through the Great Depression which saw Harlem's marginal prosperity and nightlife decimated. The few opportunities afforded black Americans by the absent workforce during World War I began to evaporate. Garveyism and the U.N.I.A. were in collapse. The continuing anti-Communist blow back from the first Red Scare suppressed the black intellectual tradition which had flourished in Renaissance writing. Writers who did continue creating literature were largely engaged in New Deal cultural documentation through the Works Progress Administration. We enter a period that I call the Post-Renaissance Vanguard and which Lawrence P. Jackson termed the "Indignant Generation".
The brutality of black life in Chicago depicted in "Native Son" brings Richard Wright to prominence in the literary world with Bigger Thomas bullying friends into committing a robbery in which he himself was not confident. Ralph Ellison uses the vehicle of an invisible man to contemplate the issues of black culture as a continual stepchild to American indifference with his lead figure navigating through the ways in which he has accepted having his presence ignored by the American majority. James Baldwin would open his career exploring his experiences in the teen ministry and eventual alienation from the institution of the church while simultaneously lambasting its hypocrisy. Melvin Tolson exhibits a fierce mastery of the English language with his erudite poetry reflecting a well traveled understanding of the world. Ellison would also go on to enter another entry in the argument of Negro artistry engaged earlier by Hughes with a missive squarely aimed at Irving Howe entitled "The World and the Jug" where he states "In his effort to resuscitate Wright, Irving Howe would designate the role which Negro writers are to play more rigidly than any Southern politician--and for the best of reasons. We must express "black" anger and "clenched militancy"; most of all we should not become too interested in the problems of the art of literature, even though it is through these that we seek our individual identities."
The final era covered in this anthology changes the order slightly with the editors choosing to shift the commentary on black artistry from the anchor position to the lead as Leroi Jones offers his thoughts on "The Myth of a Negro Literature". In this commentary, Jones makes the case that "Only in music, and most notably in blues, jazz, and spirituals, i.e., "Negro Music," has there been a significantly profound contribution by American Negroes." He later goes on to cite Jean Toomer, Richard Wright, Ralph Ellison and James Baldwin as the only examples of "serious" Negro writing that was not highly stylized and cultured to be more impressive to the mainstream American sensibility.
Writing in this period finds itself increasingly politicized as the Civil Rights struggle grows more confrontational reaching its crescendo when Stokely Carmichael sounds the call for Black Power. Echoes of Malcolm and Martin linger long after each respective assassination giving rise to a more militant orientation for the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) and the genesis of the Black Panther Party for Self Defense. The Black Arts Movement sweeps through the Northeast, Midwest and West Coast as black authors in each region contemplate and write towards the creation of black aesthetic. Eldridge Cleaver takes a fiery blast at Baldwin's blackness and masculinity in his "Notes on a Native Son, from Home" which pulses with a certain envious tension. Bayard Rustin finds himself growing frustrated as he expresses in his "Convocation Address" to Clark College on March 5, 1968 that "...Young Negroes are now so frustrated that they are substituting slognanism for analysis. They are examining their navels when they should be examining economic and social programs. They are more concerned with the way they wear their hair and whether or not they are called "black" or "Afro-American" than with developing strategies to solve the problems of housing, poverty and jobs."
I am of the opinion that the question of race and identity continues to be one of the most critical issues faced by black people in America in this age. I therefore count this as one of the most important books that I have read all year on the basis of the breadth and scope of its content. One is left wanting with each selection to explore a slight bit more, but the editors have given us only so much as we should require to make the necessary connection between the transitions of identity that occur across each era. One necessary criticism that must be noted of this text is again the woeful absence of the black feminine voice. They have much to offer us in perceiving blackness and as happens too often even in anthologies of black diasporic literary movements such as "The Negritude Poets", men dominate the coverage. This title contains two lone female voices across four eras of writing; Margaret Walker and Gwendolyn Brooks. If we are ever to resolve this question of identity, men will not settle the issue alone for we too are possessed of a subtle privilege that may pervade our ability to grasp the full magnitude of the picture. Read this manuscript as a launch pad for it will move your insight in an infinite series of directions before you reach its end.
View all my reviews
Staking My Flag In Her Stability
Recently I found myself on the phone with Jah'kaya after her attendance at a cheer practice for a competition that I would be unable to attend. Due to constraints of work, I have also had to pull back in the level of participation which I can offer at her school. During this phone call, she and I were discussing her Young Inventors Project and the notion that she wanted to build a solar house. As scattered as a child's mind can be, so was hers. She would jump to a discussion about practice and back to the solar house then forward to her trip to Huntville to see her grandmother. The process can be exasperating when I am in one of my lecture modes. I found this poem within me after that conversation.
See when I ain't there
I ain't there
But when I am there
I want to be all caught up
Underneath your hair
Like a neurotransmitter
Thought listening device
Embedded inside your skin
Like a splinter
You touched this Earth 5 days
After I honored my own rebirth
Nearness never got any simpler
So even when you age
When adolescence sees
Our luna(r)tic tendencies
Locked in mortal combat
I'll remember
You named me "Father"
And our lifetime agreement
Offered no possibility
Of breach of contract
Therefore you can reach for contact
Or keep me as distant
As Earth's surface
From the closest Comm. Sat.
I'll still leave a line
Open for conversation
Never let my heart be closed
By parental consternation
Guide your feet towards independence
Like a North Star constellation
And when life is serving you losses
I'll hold your ice cream consolation
For you are the #winning combination
Who slid to the midwife's coaxing
With nary a complication
Burning conflagration
Tremendous enough to consume
Traces of my boyish exuberance
Maturity is the movement
And I'll be damned if I ain't doing it
Because I have one chance
To change her life
And the cost to this world
Is far too high to ruin it.
Reflections on the Southside Green Economy Tour
On a comfortable sunny Saturday of September 17, I had the opportunity to engage in an event organized by my dear sister Mecca Brooks and Bernard Lloyd dubbed the Southside Green Economy Tour.
The tour was sponsored by the Bronzeville Community Garden in partnership with the Bronzeville Alliance Green Team and the Field Museum through funding from the Chicago Climate Action Plan. The event was designed to give its participants an overview of the activities taking place on the southside of Chicago towards the goal of building sustainable infrastructure and capacity, improving conservation and cultivating the use of alternative energy sources.
The tour began at the Bronzeville Community Garden where a domino game was underway on one of the local stump tables amongst a group of neighborhood residents. Jah'kaya and I greeted a few folks there and began roaming through the remaining rows of the garden examining tomatoes, peppers and other planted items flourishing in the space. While exploring further, I spotted a group of children from the apartment building next door preparing to fling tomatoes at one another. I made an agreement that if they would conduct garden cleanup for the day they could take a few appropriately ripe pieces home with them. I am not one to laud my skills at wrangling the youth though I have had some success. On this particular day, they vacated the grounds in disinterest ensuring the survival of the small green fruit for a future harvest.
Organizers and participants on the tour began to arrive soon thereafter. The oversized chess pieces were unlocked by a community resident whom holds a key for garden supply management and event pre-staging. One of the first participants I met while waiting for the tour to begin was Eboni Senai whom I later learned was initiating a program in Chicago called Red Bike & Green which I hope to write upon in a future blog entry. They had their first Chicago chapter ride out on October 15th. The story I gathered from the pictures was that there was tremendous representation from members of the Chicago artist and activist community.
The organizers circled up all whom were present and began to lay out the case for holding the tour. All members of the circle went around and introduced themselves while offering their own reasons for taking part in the tour that day. We then discussed the agenda and noted that some portions of tour might be either cut short or redacted entirely as our commitment was to arrive at Plant Chicago by 2 o'clock since we would be joining the general tour which was departing through the facility at that time.
Before I move further through the tour agenda and my reflection, allow me to offer a few definitions and numbers as taken from the literature issued on the day of the tour. Climate change refers to changing patterns of temperature, precipitation, humidity, wind, ocean circulation and other variables over long periods of time. It is today caused by human activity such as the burning of fossil fuels including coal, petroleum and natural gas thus causing an imbalance in the carbon cycle.
Chicago's average temperature is increasing and has risen 2.6º F since 1980. The city is experiencing more extreme weather events including heat waves, flooding and summer days where the temperature goes above 100º. For each of the reasons outlined above, it is imperative that we learn and employ the strategies of adaptability to a changing environment which appears at this advanced stage to be beyond abatement. As we adapt and use the planet's resources in a more sustainable manner, we can create the conditions that will allow the Earth to begin this process of self repair which will restore ecological equilibrium.
In addition to being the rendezvous point for the tour, the Bronzeville Community Garden was also our first stop. The Garden was formally established on August 19, 2010 when the community celebrated its grand opening. The three primary contributions noted of the Garden in our tour literature included: local food production, climate neutrality, and attractiveness to butterflies. As the garden focuses on edible growth, it strengthens the resilience of the community and reduces its carbon footprint. On the issue of climate and ecology, the native plants require neither extensive watering nor fertilization. Butterflies might seem an odd contribution at first, but only until one considers their critical role in the process of pollination. Therefore a network of established native gardens will open migratory corridors through urban communities for these creatures to feed upon and thereby assist us with our cultivation.
Amongst the attributes I counted as most beneficial to the Garden were its borderless presence and community investment. Although there is always the prospect of harvest loss in an unfenced garden, one can clearly see the protection that lies between those whom come to the garden's edge to play dominoes in marathon matches and the members of the Cain's Barber College who come out initially for a smoke and find themselves seated for a moment in the quietude of the space. The truth is that black people love beautiful vistas as much as any other people and when we build such things amongst ourselves and call the community to take part in the process, they show themselves ready to secure it from disruption.
The second stretch of our journey found us exploring the urban oasis that is the Eden Place Nature Center. The nature preserve was begun in an effort to offer children in this southside Chicago neighborhood an opportunity to engage with ecology and biodiversity without traveling miles outside of their own community. Eden Place exhibited among its attributes a monarch butterfly habitat, a wide array of native plants and educational workshops available to the community at large. During September when the monarch butterfly population sojourns south for Mexico in order to repopulate and winter over, they can stop and rest in an array of wildflowers growing within the boundaries of the preserve. Children also have access to a small farm with chickens and ducks where they can examine the animals growth and produce farm fresh eggs for sell to residents and visitors. They can explore an indigenous American settlement where they learn about the construction of the wigwam and the earliest settlements in Illinois.
This was perhaps my favorite part of the tour if only for the diversity of experiences that were available on this relatively small parcel of land. Eden Place is an example of true land reclamation and repurposing at work within the urban landscape. When Michael Howard initially acquired the deed for the land, it was an illegal urban industrial landfill with two hundred tons of waste which took them three years to clean up. In addition to having created a green space for the children to explore nature, they are assisting in the repair of Earth mentioned earlier in this article. It is possible for us to repair the damage that we have done to this Earth, but first we have to bring ourselves a hard stop on increased industrialization and resource consumption then we must begin to put something back into the Earth by way of seeds and sustainable cultivation. Eden Place is doing that very necessary work and we should all heed their example.
As time was running short before we were due to arrive at the Plant, our tour guides decided that to bypass the Iron Street Farm. We were advised that since we had its address on the literature, it would be beneficial for us to visit the location at a later time so that we might make ourselves aware of the full range of their offerings. Cited in our tour notes as areas of interest included their efforts at composting and food policy initiatives. According to the website for Iron Street, they have implemented a living compost system consisting of carbon residue, microorganisms, minerals and red wriggler worms. This composting process integrates into their closed loop ecological approach in order to clean up soil contaminants, digest and transform food waste and produce a highly effective, rich and organic fertilizer. As each of our individual organizations operates in a variety of legislative and civic environments, the food policy initiatives prove themselves important in order to ensure that state and local governments are implementing environmentally sustainable, nutritionally sound, and socially responsible policies according to the best practices we have discovered through our efforts on the ground.
Upon our arrival at Plant Chicago, we discovered that the tour was already underway and decided we should latch on to the passing group while catching up on any material that we may have missed during our debriefing at the close of the tour. Due to the complexity of the operation at the Plant, I thought it would be helpful to include a process diagram from their website below. The organization is poised to become Chicago's first off grid vertical farming and artisanal food business incubator for the promotion of sustainable food production, entrepreneurship and building reuse through education, research and development. The Plant uses the the closed loop ecological approach mentioned of Iron Street Farm earlier and scales it up to a size appropriate for our industrial technological age. Not only will it reuse all of the organic waste material produced in its own facilities, but it will intake previously wasted animal fat from nearby food manufacturing facilities in order to power the anaerobic digester for its net-zero energy system.
Focal points issued in the notes from our Southside Green Economy tour guides included repurposing and net-zero energy production. Chicago sends 3.4 milling tons or 62% of its total waste to the landfill every year. Illinois houses 21 coal plants of which two are in Chicago which are in need of being either upgraded or repowered. This process could result in significant reductions in the overall CO² (carbon dioxide) emissions from the state. In order for the Plant to facilitate the centralization that they will require in the repurposing of waste matter, they plan to house a number of local enterprises directly on site including a craft beer and kombucha brewery, commercial kitchen space for rent and an aquaponics operation which will cycle water between their tilapia tanks and hydroponic plant beds.
This was my first visit to the Plant and I was astonished at the magnitude of the operation and the wealth of ideas now flowing into its exploration of green industry. The entire process both fascinating and frightening for me. I consider myself both a scientist and enthusiast of all manner of experimentation that occurs in a way designed to be both sustainable and respectful of the delicate ecological balance we face on this planet. As I told my fellow tour members on this day, I don't want any of my criticisms to be taken as a detraction of the excellent work being done at the Plant. My deeper examination of the matter tells me that we should proceed with caution in how we see this very industrial solution to changing our orientation from a carbon based approach to a carbonless approach. Oftentimes when we find a new method of working, we stop exploring all available methods for solving our problems.
Oil was the cheap, easy and brilliant discovery of the Industrial Revolution and our focus on it killed the earliest electrical cars. We thought we had found an endless supply of prosperity and the answer to our problems and therefore stopped examining the problem altogether. I think that the Plant offers us an excellent experimental approach to learning what works in vertical growing and larger scaled closed loop systems. We should learn all that we can from it, but we should not attempt to replicate exactly the same model elsewhere. It is still rooted in a system of high energy consumption and resource overconsumption. Consumption needs to drop. That is not something that we can not regulate or change through external factors alone, but we need to promote the message that you will need to drive less, eat less and spend less in order to make a real impact on the future health of this planet.
Another destination that was left off of the tour due to time constraints was Blackstone Bicycle Works. The primary highlight that our tour guides wanted us to note about Blackstone was that bikes have 0 carbon emissions which makes their shop an entirely green enterprise, but their most impressive attribute extends much deeper. Blackstone was founded in 1994 as a project of the Resource Center which is Chicago's oldest and longest running non-profit recycler. In 2001, a fire forced the store to relocate from its 61st and Blackstone location into a trailer coordinated between the Resource Center and the University of Chicago. When the building at 61st and Blackstone was restored and reconstituted as the Experimental Station, Blackstone returned to the facility and began the process again of growing its youth programming.
This last point is where I think lies the most important attribute and lesson available within Blackstone Bicycle Works. Since their founding through to the present, they have sought to engage local youth in learning the values of entrepreneurship by employing them in the full scope of bike shop operations. They operate both an introductory Earn A Bike program where youth can earn a bicycle, lock and helmet for 25 hours of service in the shop while learning the mechanics of bicycle repair as well a more advanced Youth Apprenticeship program where they might be responsible for higher level shop operations, mentoring newer participants and improving the customer experience. Blackstone is not only repurposing bikes, but expanding opportunity to the youth of the neighborhood to grow and engage in a local enterprise which provides a necessary and affordable service to the community.
Our final stop on the tour was the 65th and Woodlawn Community Garden whose highlights included local food production and stewardship. Non-local food production expends a large amount of energy and is one of the greatest contributors to greenhouse gas emissions and by extension climate change. Through the practice of sustainable and appropriate environmental stewardship, we have the capacity to increase the quantity and quality of edible green space available in our community. The US has some 21 million acres of land devoted to the growth and tending of home lawns. If we were to move towards the practice of building edible landscapes throughout our community, how much would that improve both the health outcomes and visual outlook of those communities? What would be the impact on the crisis of the food desert/food swamp phenomenon?

Plot Plans during the 2010 expansion
The 65th and Woodlawn Community Garden was originally established in 2006 on a plot of land made available to a community resident by the First Presbyterian Church. Initially it was just a single family tilling, planting and developing the land, but they have now expanded to over 100 plots each tended by a family given wide license to grow as they please. In one of the most interesting plots spotted that day, we saw an intricately arranged trellis with an assortment of unusual flowers, vegetables and fruit. We were later told that this plot was tended by a botanist.
Beyond the two highlights mentioned above, the greatest attribute available to the Garden is its people. In every instance in which I have visited this location, there is usually a small community of gardeners lounging in some sunny area holding conversation. Gardeners come in after work to put their hands in the dark earth casting off the stress of the day. When there is production overflow, the garden has a flag program that allows each owner to designate that some of their plot can be harvested for donation to a food pantry. While this garden does have a fence surrounding its plots, they have taken unique step of cultivating some items directtly along the exterior of the fence which are available for general community harvesting. In this way, the fence becomes less of a tool to divide people from one another, but a real point of engagement for community members to expose themselves further to the work of the garden and perhaps obtain plots of their own in the future.
The tour concluded with a dinner provided by Bro. Tsadakeeyah and some rousing discussion on each of our views about the locations we explored that day as we sat around a large handmade serving table at the Bronzeville Community Garden. If you did not have an opportunity to take part in this year's tour, I am certain that they will revisit the journey again when warmer weather returns next year. It is necessary that we should know where these locations are and be aware of their activities so that as they expand and develop the resources around us, we can hold them accountable as a community. We must also be accountable to them by providing our time, resources, connections and energy in order to sustain their efforts. Our unresponsive city government provides a well founded example of what happens when we outsource the process of change to a bureaucracy. Eventually the bureaucracy decides that it can move more expediently without our input and goes through every effort to circumvent our voice. If we remain vigilant, forward thinking and aware, our fate cannot be dictated by any force outside of our community who may not have the best interest of that community in mind.












