On Being an Artist: The Struggle is Real

To refer to oneself as an artist is considered by many to be pompous and self-aggrandizing. How dare does one ascribe to a title that is connected to a practice that the end result is in so many ways subjective? But to acknowledge and proclaim that one is an artist, while bold, is a recognition of a deeply rooted desire that is not only  second nature, but boils and permeates within the spirit, germinates and sprouts into a form that becomes a reflection of one’s connection to self and the universe. Whether this form appeals to a single person or the masses is not the determining factor of whether one is an artist, but whether the purveyor has such conviction as to proclaim and produce in the name of it. To endure a daily life of judgement, criticism, analysis, multiple interpretation, not to mention (at times) self-deprecating behavior, is to dance awkwardly in the nude before many with the threat of death. If the artist survives their critics and themselves, they are resurrected multiple times by the very same society and inner monologue that killed them. For an artist believes that, even in the contradiction, there is value in the work and therefore endeavors to overcome many obstacles to produce. To be an artist is to embrace a passion. To create from this place is to believe in the power of second nature. To proclaim oneself an artist, is to crown oneself, even when the court of public opinion may not accept you as a queen or king. 

 Patricia R. Corbett is a MFA student at Goddard College in Plainfield,Vermont, studying Interdisciplinary Arts.She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in English from Virginia Union University in Richmond, VA. Patricia is a artist, storyteller, professional writer, published author, womanist, educator, and motivational speaker.  She utilizes storytelling, writing, speaking and networking to create paradigm shifts in education, business and the community.

Patricia's writing and artwork takes a critical view of social, political and cultural issues through storytelling. She self-identifies as a queer black woman whose projects challenge systemic societal problems, stereotypes, conventional thought/wisdom, religion and values. Patricia's quest is to expose and uplift the stories of marginalized populations while redefining what is aesthetically beautiful.

What to the Black and Queer Woman is the 4th of July?

The evil that men do, lives after them, The good is oft-interred with their bones.

Today is the 4th of July and I see red, white and blue everywhere, but still I wonder, where is my independence?  Where, in the madness of domestic terrorism, am I and my people free from targeted racism? Where is this equality claimed to have been sanctioned for my protection? Where is my freedom from persecution as a black woman? How am I protected as a black queer woman?

First of all, as a black woman, I share with my community the outrage that my Sisters and Brothers are being murdered in the streets and in churches. As a black mother, I had to learn not to fear for my son's life whenever he is out of my sight. I am disgusted by the criminal justice system that sends members of my community into institutionalized slavery disproportionately. I hear the voices of my ancestors in the trees and in the wind loudly screaming for justice. But whether we call ourselves Black or African American, we have been experiencing terrorism since we were involuntarily enslaved. Our name and descriptor changed, but the oppression, terrorism and injustice toward us didn't. The reign of white terror continues to replicate itself in our society in various ways and using various masks. Often, this evil is used as a tool to create division in our community as a means of oppression. Hate still runs through America's veins. And just as it presents itself in misdirected and hateful white citizens, it runs rampant through the black community. Somehow this same disdain has even reared its ugly head in many of the black churches when it comes to their queer Sisters and Brothers.

Most recently, and tragically, the hate from my own community became viral when Marriage Equality was approved by the Supreme Court just a few days ago. I am usually not surprised by hatred, but the outpouring of viscous attacks on myself and my queer Sisters and Brothers from their own friends and family was hurtful to witness. Sadly, I wish I expected differently. As an advocate for queer people in the black community, I encountered a low key disdain for queer people that is very reminiscent of my experience living in the south. It is the smile in your face and the whispers behind your back. The more vocal the black queer community became about our right to freedom, the more reactions to our existence changed. Eventually, the pulpit condemnation spilled over into a low murmur in the church parking lot and into conversations in spaces we occupy.  Once Marriage Equality was sanctioned, a loud and boisterous venomous stream of hate that felt like a barrage of vomit was projected from my own people.

Every July 4th I struggle with this concept of independence and freedom. So, this Fourth of July is a double stab to my heart. I am not free from terror in the land where I was raised. And my own people reject my right to be able to have the same legal protections as they have. I feel exasperated and frustrated.  This year, I am heavyhearted and angry. As a black queer woman I wonder when this will change. Today I chose to reflect upon a speech that I taught for years as a high school English teacher, What to the Slave is the Fourth of July? written July 5, 1852.

The first time I read Frederick Douglass' What to the Slave is the Fourth of July? was about 30 years ago. When I began teaching, I incorporated the speech into a lesson plan about speeches, along with those of by John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King and Malcolm X. The lesson taught the power of speech making. In my opinion, Frederick Douglass' speech reigns supreme as one of the greatest speeches ever. After being asked to speak of his freedom, Douglass used that moment to passionately recognize his Sisters and Brothers who were still in bondage. With an exemplary command and usage of education and language, he most eloquently slammed the whites in the audience by pointing out how their invitation was duplicitous in nature and request. I am surprised that he wasn't later found dead. In today's society, I am not sure if that wouldn't happen. I was moved by his brave stance. Here is one of the speech's many powerful passages,

Fellow-citizens, pardon me, allow me to ask, why am I called upon to speak here to-day? What have I, or those I represent, to do with your national independence? Are the great principles of political freedom and of natural justice, embodied in that Declaration of Independence, extended to us? and am I, therefore, called upon to bring our humble offering to the national altar, and to confess the benefits and express devout gratitude for the blessings resulting from your independence to us?...I am not included within the pale of this glorious anniversary! Your high independence only reveals the immeasurable distance between us. The blessings in which you, this day, rejoice, are not enjoyed in common. — The rich inheritance of justice, liberty, prosperity and independence, bequeathed by your fathers, is shared by you, not by me. The sunlight that brought life and healing to you, has brought stripes and death to me. This Fourth [of] July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn. To drag a man in fetters into the grand illuminated temple of liberty, and call upon him to join you in joyous anthems, were inhuman mockery and sacrilegious irony.

 You can read the entire speech here, What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?

Can you imagine the faces of the white audience members when they heard this eloquent denouncement of false liberty? In this excerpt, he manages to express my thoughts as a black woman in the 21st century. How can I feel free when the prisons are overflowing with my people, police terrorize us, we are challenged with systemic problems and white supremacist burn our churches? But these feelings are made even more difficult and doubly complex considering I need only look to my own community and feel equally at the mercy of vitriolic homophobic responses to Marriage Equality.

As many questions as I have for the white patriarchal machine, I have one question for my own people. When will you acknowledge queer people and our existence? In the wake of the Marriage Equality decision, I find it necessary to remind you, my people, that while I am queer, the first thing people see is my skin color. I am black to the masses. I am both black and queer and cannot separate the two. Your struggle is my own as much as it is yours. In fact, because I know our struggle so well, it is even more painful to feel the venom directed from those whose hands I hold in rage, solidarity and prayer as we meet the face of hate through white racist attacks. We queer black people are your Grandmothers, Grandfathers, Fathers, Mothers, Uncles, Aunts, Sisters and Brothers. When you hate us, you hate yourselves. We need you as much as you need us. We walk this journey with you.

Just a week ago, many of my queer black friends experienced a wave of insensitive and hurtful posts on their social media pages as they celebrated the freedom to marry and receive the benefits thereof. This response resonates in such a way that I can only shake my head in dismay at my Sisters and Brothers who use the very bible that was used to enslave us, to further this hatred toward the black queer community. Marriage Equality in no way threatens the existence of a thriving community. Our inability to thrive as a community is predicated on our own internal disconnection. This separation is a victory for those groups outside of us who condemn us. The awful 'success' of slavery was that it separated us, made us fight against each other and even directed us to kill our own. This 'divide and conquer' method worked and is still at work in our community. My Sisters and Brothers who sit on the other side of love, Marriage Equality only grants the right to marry and receive all of its legal benefits, it is not an affront to religious beliefs. I need my people to understand the difference. We do not have to marry in your churches and you do not have to marry us. What we need you to recognize that we have always been a part of the movement and struggle. We need you to acknowledge us rather than force us into a double invisibility. We need you to love us.

So, Sisters and Brothers, when you put on your star spangled banner shorts, light your fireworks and eat your 4th of July potato salad, remember that we are seated next to you at the table. We are in your backyards playing spades. We are celebrating family while cock-tailing over blue crabs. We are business owners, we get our hair cut in the barbershop/ salon with you. We are seated next to you at the bus stop and eating in the same restaurants. And yes, we will be in the pew next to you Sunday morning, in the pulpit and passing the collection plate. When you bible thump and bash us, we hear you. Please know that you are doing exactly what white patriarchal machine want you to do; divide us. We cannot have division in our community. Further, we will never find the love that will unify us and break the chains of mental slavery if we cannot love each other. Black queer people deserve to pursue happiness. This black queer woman yearns, just like you, to be respected and exercise my rights without hate, persecution and violence. Freedom is what July 4th is supposed to mean. This means freedom to be fully me; black, queer, mother, warrior, artist and entrepreneur. So stop hating on your family members and love your children who are gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and queer. Enjoy your cookout!

Patricia R. Corbett is a MFA student at Goddard College in Plainfield,Vermont, studying Interdisciplinary Arts.She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in English from Virginia Union University in Richmond, VA. Patricia is a artist, storyteller, professional writer, published author, womanist, educator, and motivational speaker.  She utilizes storytelling, writing, speaking and networking to create paradigm shifts in education, business and the community.

Patricia's writing and artwork takes a critical view of social, political and cultural issues through storytelling. She self-identifies as a queer black woman whose projects challenge systemic societal problems, stereotypes, conventional thought/wisdom, religion and values. Patricia's quest is to expose and uplift the stories of marginalized populations while redefining what is aesthetically beautiful.

Preparing Myself for Greatness!

Girl in a Tie Relocates and Evolves!

photo courtesy of Leslie Cunningham

On December 31, 2014 this Girl in a Tie relocated back to Richmond, Virginia. Since my arrival, I have had many people ask me why I returned. Some understood when I said I had grown tired of the city hustle and desired a different life at a slower pace, others wondered what I would do with my 'out' self in Richmond. Well, I am not doing anything about my 'out' self except embracing it on an even deeper level....I am also evolving. I have purged the old me and I am now learning myself at 48 years old. I am enrolled in graduate school in a MFA program, I am practicing and growing in my writing and exploring new art forms and mediums. I am changing my style and my swag...I am doing it all differently and on my own terms. I am also changing my inner dialogue to include only positive affirmations. I am no longer running from myself...I think...therefore I am a free. Next step...manifest everything I want...starting with holding joy in my heart and seeking happiness...I am looking for ways to serve my community and seeking ways to create new opportunities for personal/professional growth. I am living my life on my own terms. I hope that I inspire others...I am preparing myself for greatness! I encourage you to do the same.

Three Haikus and a Message to Nikki Minaj

Patricia R. Corbett

Dear Nikki,

I was seriously angry and frustrated when I was accidentally exposed to your “Anaconda” video.  I want to put this as delicately possible because you are someone’s daughter and so am I.  As an educator and mentor to young women, I do not wish to hurt you, but instead help to enlighten you about the power of your music.  Now before you think that I am making this a personal attack about your artistry, I want to assure you that I am open to ALL forms of artistry, even when I may not agree or understand it. As a creative spirit, I am against censorship and value the artistic process. However, I feel it necessary to say to you that the work you are putting into the universe is neither refreshing nor artistic. In other words, just as two strategically placed sticks and a Cheeto glued to a sheet of paper is not art, neither is stripping down to the very bare minimum and clapping your ass cheeks. Since “Minaj” is connected to the French word ‘menage’ which means threes, I decided to write you three haikus and this short message.

I am sure you realize through your childhood and growing up as a young black woman that the life of a ‘girlchild’ and woman is exceedingly difficult. Girls and Women see images of other and often want to emulate them. Many of these women are the victim of systemic problems that include poverty and abuse. I am sure you are aware that women are exploited, ‘mysogynized’ and marginalized around the world. Do you want to be remembered as a young black woman who exploited herself for money? I am guessing based on hearing you talk when you drop the fake Barbie veil, that you are an intelligent women who has not yet reached a level of consciousness to understand how much young women now idolize your plastic and very shallow images. Many of them will make bad choices based on the image and not the reality. 

Haiku #1

sit down black girl now

there is no revolution

in between your thighs

I wrote Haiku #1 for you as a means of helping you to recognize that sex and ‘clapping ass cheeks’ is not revolutionary. In fact, although you are not paving the way to this behavior, you are now part of the way. Everything you do is being absorbed by masses of girls and young women.

I recently watched a documentary about Alice Walker. In this film she said that, before she creates, she consults the ancestors to be sure that her work meets with their approval. Whose approval, if at all, did you seek? Why did you chose to frame your career in this way? Was it fame at whatever the cost? Do you realize that fame brings attention and sometimes chips away at your psyche and your life? In addition, money may end the struggle, but earning it does come with a price.When your former high school rejected your request to speak to the students, someone in your camp should have advised you to request a private meeting with the principal to discuss the matter further instead of ‘tweeting’ your frustration. If they approved the meeting, you should be prepared to explain your career choices and earn the level of respect you want that has been compromised because of your choices. As an educator and mentor, after viewing “Anaconda”, I totally understand and support the school's position. 

Haiku #2

your message is clear

bounce and clap your ass for coins

the little girls see

I wrote Haiku #2 so that you realize that your choice to glamorize sex impacts our communities. You are influencing a generation of young women and adult women.  Is this how you want to be remembered?

I know there are plenty of women who have and are willing to compromise their intelligence and body because it is financially lucrative. You and others may point out, Lil Kim as a prime example. But have you looked at Lil Kim today as compared to yesterday? After making millions and spending money for countless plastic surgeries, is she better off? You are basically the 21^st century version. Have you thought about what you will look like and where will you be 10 years from now? I wrote Haiku #3 because I want you to know there is hope for you and all young women who make career choices that are controlled by a patriarchy. You are not the first or last woman to fall prey to the desire for money and fame. And although people forgive and forget some things, other times their memories linger. Again, is this how you want to be remembered?

Haiku #3

thankfully there is

evolution for us all

you someday will see

Nikki, there is so much more for you to learn and for you to unlearn about what it is to be a woman. I encourage you to really dig deep and spend time figuring out now what you want your life to look like. My guess is you may have interpreted that your freedom as a woman is to do whatever you please with your body. This may be so, but you must also realize that there is a much more powerful influence with the mind than with the body. I do believe you can and will evolve to this level of consciousness. When this process takes place, maybe your former high school administration could be convinced to allow you to speak.  Please understand, as women we are most often at the mercy of a patriarchal society. Whereas, we may not be able to control this domineering force, we can demand that we be respected for more than our body. You can use your power and prestige to uplift or tear down. I imagine there are many women, like myself, who would love to see you evolve into a much more conscious woman. This is not a demand for you to change, but rather a request that you consider using your power for good and to be remembered for so much more than "Anaconda."

What was Once Lost: 

Re-lighting the Lamp of Your Soul

When I was younger, space and time appeared to move slowly. I danced through life making a series of bad choices countered at times by good karma. I did everything I thought other people wanted me to do and beat myself up when I made choices that disappointed them. I was also not genuine nor living an authentic life. I was ‘being’ who everyone thought I should be and lost sight of who I was destined to be. But the death of so many of my friends and the many changes in my own life, made me realize just how important it is to create the life you want to live. We are here on this planet for only a brief shining moment. Our light, no matter how bright it shines, is extinguished and others are left to carry the torch. But what happens when you cannot see your light? What happens when your lamp has been extinguished? Can you find your way back? The answer is a resounding ‘yes’, but you may have to pull yourself from the very depths of despair to shine. I wrote this very personal blog for anyone who may find themselves wanting to shine again.

One day I woke up alone. I no longer earned an income. In fact, I owned less than half of the possessions I had accumulated just five years prior. My resources were beyond limited. I had been dismissed from my two jobs within a span of 4 years. The first job tested every ounce of my patience, left me bitter, and on anti-depressants. The second job overwhelmed me with work and then dismissed me when I expressed that I needed my personal time to pursue my own life interests and could no longer have a job that consumed my evenings and weekends. To add insult to injury, my relationship deteriorated, I was forced to move from my apartment and my car was repossessed. These events felt more devastating than anything else in my entire life. I learned very quickly who my true friends were- those who love your laughter, don’t always have patience for your tears. Only true friends will stand by you when you are in a state of sadness. I cried…a lot. I didn't love me anymore and felt incapable of loving anyone else.

At some point I wondered why me? I considered myself a ‘good’ person. I had been generous and kind. But then it occurred to me, why not me? I wasn't leading an authentic life. Although I had a strong work ethic, I was haughty about my private indiscretions and boastfully bragged about them.  I needed a big dose of humility and the universe saw fit that I was humbled in multiple ways that knock me down several pegs.

See I have always known that I needed to work on certain areas of my life, but there were other areas that I never thought needed work. I spent a great deal of time in denial. I was trying to convince myself that I was ‘alright’, but I wasn't. Nothing I seemed to do pulled me from what I now recognize was a mental breakdown. I had seen it happen to my friends and past lovers, but now it was my turn and there was no one there to help me put on my oxygen mask. No one was there to hold my hand.

Then I did something I had never done before. I began introspectively thinking about the paths that lead to where I was on my journey. My life had always been in motion. I ran from everything I feared. I realized I needed to sit still and just ‘be’. I needed to quiet the voices in my head that made me afraid. I needed to let myself off the cross for not being a good partner, for not having a job, for not honoring my body…I needed to let go of some things. Most importantly, I had to let go of my ego and need to control the outcome of situations and circumstances.

When I was able to quiet my spirit, an amazing thing happened. The sadness and fear that overwhelmed my life and space lifted its shadow of darkness. I felt renewed and had more clarity than ever. I began to read and write again. I also begin to address my fears of being settled and aging. I paid close attention to my mind, body and spirit. I began to peel away the layers of despair to find who I really was. I learned to love myself and to accept my flaws and idiosyncrasies.

When the dust cleared, I realized that I was still worthy of love and capable of loving. I felt stronger and more capable as an authentic spirit.  I recognized that the kinder gentler side that I showed to others, I now needed to show toward myself. I needed to pamper myself more and encourage myself to follow my dreams and reconnect with myself as a writer and artist. I realized that I could not compromise myself and my happiness for anyone else. Self-sacrificing behavior will render a strong person weak in all the wrong ways. But that was the first half of my life.

So here I am at 48 years old with more white-hair than my mother, but healthier and more at peace than ever. I feel like a fresh new bud, waiting for the sun to tease it open. I know that the second half of my life will be about loving and not about possessions. I have learned that I can survive on a lot less. I have no desire, but to own what I need and to dismiss much of the frivolity and anxiety connected to ‘living to work’. I now prefer ‘working to live’. This new beginning is so liberating. I feel like I am finally living on my own terms. I found a way to light my lamp again!

During my struggle in a darkened space, I adopted the following affirmations that may help you if you find yourself trying to find your light.

• Begin each new day with a mediation of gratitude. Not everyone has the blessing of this day. Take stock of who you hold dear and express your gratitude for ports in the storm.
• Take care of your WHOLE self. Remember to attend to your mind, body and spirit. Exercise, eat healthy, and rid your mind of self-limiting thoughts. You cannot rise up if you cannot let go. Make a commitment to you and your health. 
• Reduce stress and worry. A wise person once said, “Worry is a down payment on tomorrow’s trouble.” Don’t waste precious time fretting about tomorrow because if you do, you just wasted today.
• Be aware of the thoughts you cultivate. Negative thoughts will not grow positive seeds. Your thoughts can either make you or break you. Say kind words of encouragement to yourself.
• Be aware of the beauty that surrounds you because it is a reflection of you. Every day we walk this earth, we hold up the mirror of our souls. What you send out into the universe, reflects back on you.
• Stay peaceful even when confronted with anger, resentment and disdain. According to the I Ching, if the center is not still, outer movement is unpredictable. Stand firm in who you are and meet anger with kindness. Remain centered and you will become more aware and good things will be attracted to you.
• Before speaking ask yourself, is it true, is it kind, is it necessary. All three must be true in order for you to speak into someone else’s life.

AND FINALLY

LAUGH and LOVE as much and as deeply as possible. If you are able to commit to loving you, all else will fall into place…Here’s to relighting your lamp!

JUSTaSISTA Re-Launches: How I Became an Entreprenegro

A few months ago, I re-launched JUSTaSISTA/Girl in a Tie Productions (GTP). The re-launch came after much-needed self-analysis about the direction of my company. It is important to note that I had not focused on developing JUSTaSISTA/GTP in more than two years and it needed an total overhaul; that incuded new marketing materials, a marketing plan, establishing and rebuilding relationships. Within a month or so, it became clear that this would involve a lot of hard work and ingenuity, something I believe our early ancestors possessed. I began jokingly using the term 'entreprenegro' to describe myself.  Although I saw it initially as a clever term, I recently realized that choosing to refer to myself as an ‘entreprenegro’ has a much deeper meaning.

I was born in 1966. My birth was during the protest era. I was very fortunate to have a father who was very involved in Civil Rights. My father owned a wide variety of books that included a rather large collection of historical African American fiction and non-fiction. His library exposed me to literature that referred to African Americans as “negras, niggers, negroes, colored, black and Afro American” people. I remember seeing titles such as “Up From Slavery”, “The Souls of Black Folks”, “The Complete Works of Martin Luther King” and “The Autobiography of Malcolm X”. However, what really ignited my curiosity was the protest literature. Daring titles such as, “Die Nigger! Die!”, “Soul on Ice”, “Look Out Whitey Black Powers Gon’ get Your Mamma!” piqued my interest. I didn't read these books until much later in life, but at age 12 I read with wonder and amazement the descriptive narrative on the back covers of these and other books. I became a cerebral rebel at a very early age.

My mother unknowingly contributed to my rebellious nature by exposing me to more African American literature. She read to me excerpts from “Narratives of the Life of a Slave Girl”, “Jubilee”, “The Best of Simple” and “Go Tell it on the Mountain”. This exposure accounts for my continued interest in African American literature today. As a matter of fact, when I was in the 2^nd grade she was reading a book entitled, “The Decline of the Wasp”. I asked her what the book was about and she told that it was about how white people would not always be the most powerful race in the future. She then told me what ‘wasp’ meant. The next day when my Caucasian teacher made me angry, I told her she was a ‘White Anglo Saxon Protestant’. This didn't go over too well based on her reaction. I have to laugh to myself when I think about that moment because God knows what the teacher thought when I said that to her. This was my breakthrough as a true rebel.

When I think about the terms “negras, niggers, negroes, colored, black, Afro American and African American”, I remember the scope of literature I have read that suggests and confirms the intelligence and greatness of my people. I use the drive of the spirits of my ancestors and those who share in their collective strengths and body of knowledge to push forward and to stake my claim. I call myself an ‘entreprenegro’ in honor of what I learned from my father’s library and from my Mother’s reading. I am forever grateful that I was exposed to great African American literature by my family. So when I think about bursting onto the scene with a renewed vision for JUSTaSISTA/Girl in a Tie Productions, I have empowered myself as an ‘entreprenegro’. Besides, ‘entreprenegro’ sounds a whole lot better than ‘entreprecolored’ or ‘entrepreblack’.

Why I Can't Stop Talking About Being Gay!

Recently, someone gay asked me why do I write and talk so much about being gay? After all, he said, we are more than our sexuality. This isn't the first time I have been asked this very same question. My immediate response was I work for Metro DC Parents Family and Friends of Lesbians and Gays (PFLAG). My organization educates supports and advocates for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender youth and adults. But here is what is interesting about me doing dedicated work for this organization, if I hadn’t accepted this position; I would still have been comfortable with living in silence never understanding the importance of being 'out' and supporting the youth in our community.

You see, until I moved to DC, I had no thoughts of or any consideration to ‘coming out’. I’m from Virginia, and trust me, there are so many reasons why ‘coming out’ can be detrimental. There are people who are not accepting who would potentially cause tremendous harm to an openly gay individual. I refer to it as the ‘hate state’ for a reason. I grew up in Virginia and I worked in education there for five years. I am a former high school English teacher and although I’m sure my peers may have made assumptions (if you ask my partner she would say I was in deep deep denial that they knew) about my sexuality. Add to that, I’m sure my colleagues noticed that all of the openly gay and questioning students would flock to my class and spend time after school grading papers or just chatting me up, mostly about everything else, but being gay. When I told some of my friends about my openly gay students, some of my friends jokingly warned me about school girl crushes. I laughed with them, but I always reminded them that I have integrity, I am a professional and they are children. Indeed, I was more like a mother to my students. My teaching experience was enriched by these young people and I had mixed emotions about leaving my hometown, but I believe my destiny to become an advocate lead me to work in Washington DC.

Almost three years ago I accepted a position in the English department of a charter high school in DC. Soon the joy of my experiences teaching and mentoring young people was overtaken with sadness and fear. I was visited by this emotion in a very real way. What I saw happening to my young people who were openly identifying as gay, challenging gender stereotypes and questioning their sexuality was disturbing. While I taught students who felt comfortable openly sharing their sexuality with me, there were some who shared this with me in secret, lingering around my desk after class and after school. I witnessed alarming numbers of girls who were forming groups in order to defend themselves against some of the verbal and physical harassment they had been experiencing. I saw young women with internal struggles and no guiding force to listen,hear their cries of pain or advocate for them. Perhaps, my saddest day was to see three young lesbians who came from another high school to ‘battle’ a group of girls from my school sitting handcuffed on the curb in front of our building. I became fearful and sad that some of these young women could potentially find themselves in juvenile corrections, or worse, dead.

Currently, one of my responsibilities at Metro DC PFLAG is to teach LGBTQ Diversity Clubs in two DC high schools. Although the majority of both group’s members are young women who share stories of their struggles at home and in school, I am also sensitive to the young men who need understanding and a comfortable place to be themselves. One of the young men in my group was afraid to go to the boy’s bathroom for fear of an attack because he was openly gay. He used the girl’s bathroom, but when he mentioned this in the group, one of the girls warned him that he could also be harmed there because there were girls who were claiming gender territories and felt he was encroaching upon their space. I even worked with a young lady whose mother gave her a black eye when she 'came out' as a lesbian.

Working with these young people made me start to take inventory of my life. I asked myself, what are the dangers of being a LGBTQ youth or a youth who is ‘perceived’ to be gay simply based on gender stereotypes? How were these gender stereotypes now playing out with these girls engaging in violent acts? How does a transgender youth survive in often violent school settings without support of educated adults? What has to be done to educate our young brothers and sisters and keep them protected from further emotional trauma? And how can I assist them if I am silent?

Just this month a 14 year old boy who was openly gay was murdered in his English class. An 8 year old student in Maryland recently hanged himself because he was being bullied. One of my youth is at this very minute wondering where he is going to sleep, while another is couch surfing because her mother put her out of the house. Perhaps, a young brother is being beaten up by his older brother because he is not masculine enough. Inevitably, some of my youth will make choices that they will later regret. One of them may make a decision to end his/her life.

My point is that some of us have to speak out! Some of us have to work to insure that our youth are not bullied and harassed. Some of us have to answer the challenge of cultivating our youth on how to develop a sense of self-love. Some of us have to be ‘out’ and talk about the disparities among the poor lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning youth.

Somebody has to let parents know that it is not acceptable to push their child into traffic because they discover that they identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender or questioning.

Let's Dig Up a White Man

You know you hear some interesting things in the grocery store. For example, as I was loading my items onto the conveyor belt in the ‘15 Items or Less' line, I heard two people who were disparaging the ‘hype’ around the Presidential campaign. When I arrived in front of my checkout clerk, I realized that he and another employee were engaged in a discussion about the Presidential election. He said,

“I think we should dig up an old president, maybe Abraham Lincoln or Franklin Roosevelt. We can get their DNA and bring back a good president.”

The other replied, “Yeah. Cause our current President is an idiot and the one before him couldn’t keep his zipper up.”

While I respectfully believe that we all have the right to our opinions and choices, are we really at a point where we have no living candidates worthy of election? Do we need to dig up a white man? I couldn’t help but sense that the implication was that these clerks would be much happier if their choices were middle-aged white men. It didn’t seem to matter to them that they have the option of choosing from two candidates that represent diversity and change in this country. They spoke very fearfully about what would happen if a black man OR woman becomes President.

Someone told me that life is about perspective. These two employees represent the perspective that all was well and good when only white men ran this country. They also represent barriers that need to be dismantled. The Barak Obama and Hilary Clinton campaigns are exemplary of this country's move toward diversifying its leadership. Further, the comments of these clerks are a reminder that there is a lot more at stake in this Democratic election than experience or domestic and foreign affairs. Both Senator Obama and Clinton are going to have to prove to people like them that this country can not only survive, but can also thrive under the leadership of someone other than a white man.

I can imagine that this election is scary for a lot of people who are accustomed to our President looking like them, including the employees at my neighborhood grocery store. I might add, just for fun, that there have been books written and speculation that Abraham Lincoln and other Presidents may have been biracial although there are many who would vehemenantly dispute this claim, not because of DNA, but because they would like us to forget that we are products of slavery; our families seperated, our women raped and our brothers emasculated. Black blood runs through a lot of veins in this country.

So to those who want to escavate a President, you might want to do some research to be sure that the 'white savior' you wish to unearth is indeed white. I might also suggest that you pay a visit to ancestry.com, you may find that you are one of us too. Are you REALLY scared yet?

Obama and “The Good Fight”: The Spirit of Shirley Chisholm Lives!

New politics needs new men and women. Increasing participation in the process does not mean much if the new participants still have to make the same old choices, between one white “liberal” upper-middle-class, college-educated, well-off middle-aged male and another. It is time we had a different options.
Shirley Chisholm, The Good Fight

This year’s race to the Democratic National Convention has been incredible. And it seems to get more amazingly engaging each week, if not, each day, as long as Senator Obama’s campaign continues to develop momentum. Because I continue to believe that we are connected to our past, I thought it pertinent to talk about a person who ran for President back in 1972, almost 36 years ago, the honorable former Congresswoman and Ms. Unbrought and Unbossed herself, Shirley Chisholm. Although she is no longer with us physically, she died January 1, 2005, she was both veracious and brilliant in her approach to the problems our country faced during her legacy as the first black woman elected to U.S. House where she served from January 3, 1969 to January 3, 1983. After reading a blog about her just recently and following both Barak Obama and Hilary Clinton’s campaigns, I began reading Ms. Chisholm’s book, The Good Fight. I also began to wonder, if she were alive, who Ms. Chisholm would choose as President when presented with the choice of a black man or a woman.

Shirley Chisholm set the tone for both black women and black men, and for that matter, people of all cultures who serve in public office. It wasn’t until I was an adult that I began to understand the magnitude of her personal story. Indeed, Ms. Chisholm exuded and implored an air of fierce integrity and tenacity as she declared and exemplified her belief in honest politics. She believed in serving the people and refused to be swayed by special interests when considering legislation. Thus far in the history of African American politics, her style and sage approach to working as a representative of the people has remained unmatched. She was exemplary of her own words and title of her book, Unbrought and Unbossed.

But it is in The Good Fight that she documents her motivation to run for President and the challenges she faced as a candidate in 1972. The book includes some of her speeches where she cites current issues of that time as poverty, housing, equality for women, national childcare reform, medical care for the uninsured and the war in Southeast Asia. Thirty-six years later, we struggle with poverty, gentrification, 7 million people living without health insurance, homelessness, a living wage and the war in Iraq. The volumes of people who have been turning up at the polls are galvanized by these issues. The Good Book provides the bases for understanding the true spirit of Shirley Chisholm that will always remain and has really informed how I feel about our upcoming election. I believe she is the zeitgeist of the movement behind Barak Obama’s success. There is a spirit that is swirling about us that suggests that Shirley Chisholm lives.

One of the reasons that Ms. Chisholm ran for President was young people. She was genuinely amazed and motivated by young peoples’ zeal and energy to effect change. She spoke of the college students who would take her out after a speaking engagement on campus to pick her brain about politics. Inevitably, after sensing her sincerity and her hard-hitting positions, students would often ask her to run for President. I see this same belief from young people who are voting in record numbers for Democratic candidates. At my voting precinct last week, I witnessed a mother and daughter exchange their difference of opinion about voting for a Republican versus a Democrat. The mother proudly proclaimed herself to be a life-long Republican, while the daughter proclaimed Democrat. Her mother said to the pollster, “She doesn’t count”. And while this young girl wasn’t of voting age, she feels what many young people feel about this election; they are motivated by choices for change. Shirley Chisholm said “jiving is instantly perceived by young audiences…whatever they think about my ideas, they can tell I’m not jiving”. She said, “kids keep hope alive”. And just as many young people wanted change and believed in her brand of honest politics then, young people today are recognizing that it is time to breakdown long-existing barriers to change. Both Democratic candidates are breaking barriers to change.

So here we are in 2008 and we have a black man and a woman running for President. And there are some skeptics who have asked the question, are we ready for a black man or woman to run this country? I cannot honestly believe that this is still an issue to discuss. I believe Shirley Chisholm would say now is always a good time, not tomorrow or another 36 years. I believe that while she was a firm supporter of equality rights for women, she would have chosen Senator Obama. Of course this is pure speculation, but I believe that she would take note of Senator Clinton’s voting record, her conservative roots, the Whitewater hearings as well as the healthcare debacle. She would look at the Clinton administration, the politically savvy Clintons and remind us who Maggie Williams is and expose Hilary’s change in campaign managers as a deliberate strategy to bolster support from black female voters. In her own words, “one has to deal in politics not with reality per se, but with reality as is perceived by voters, through clouds of distortion, simplification, prejudices and misinformation”. Ms. Chisholm would repeat what she said years ago about the need for a new breed of politics and politicians who represent more than the status quo and passionately inspire hope in young people and the previously disenfranchised. I’m quite sure she would see beyond race and gender. I think she would say, a woman yes, but we need a candidate that represents true change; someone who has a fresh perspective and will move groups who have been previously disinterested in politics because they felt their vote didn’t count. Ms. Chisholm would herald the choices we have. In her own words,

It is time we had different options. There ought to be more nontraditional candidates…Are all wisdom, all talent, all leadership, all intelligence, all ability, all creativity concentrated on one group?

2009 represents a choice for change. Diversity is refreshing. And while I recognize that by supporting Senator Obama, he, as all leaders who have left a carbon print before him, is now awaiting his moment to show who he is as leader, I truly believe that he is committed to doing the will of the people. As I often say, we haven’t nearly arrived at a verdict and the jury has not convened about the Senator. But my hope remains strong and my belief in change is steadfast. I think Ms. Chisholm would be following this election with a critical eye. She would also relish that we have both a black and a women in the Presidential race, but she would warn Senator Obama to be aware of the clever tricks of the political machine and the special interest groups who will seek to try to overtake him and will constantly challenge his honesty and integrity. I believe she would tell him to keep his eyes on the prize. And I project that once Senator Obama receives the nomination he will have very similar emotions as did Ms. Chisholm when she stood on that very same platform seeking the nomination,

… most people had thought I would never stand there in that place, but there I was. All the odds had been against it, right up to the end. I never blamed anyone for doubting. The Presidency is for white males. No one was ready to take a black woman seriously as a candidate. It was not time yet for a black to run, let alone a woman, and certainly not for someone who was both.

In the end, if Ms. Chisholm were alive, she would stand tall and proud along side Democratic Presidential Nominee Barak Obama at the Democratic National Convention and tell him to square his jaw and continue to keep up ‘the good fight’. I can hear her saying that it is time to break tradition and for the American people to have hope and belief that change is eminent. Yes We Can!

Infused with the Audacity of Hope: Pride not Prejudice

Thanks to Barak Obama, for the first time since being able to vote, I feel like I am valued as a part of the political process. I will admit that I resisted my initial impulse to support his candidacy because he is African American and so am I. After all, from grade school I was taught that electing a candidate is a democratic process and unlike many other countries, we have the privilege of choice. So I didn’t want to choose him simple because of the color of his skin; but I am not ashamed to say that I felt a strong sense of pride seeing a viable African American candidate ready to take on the challenge of the presidency. However, I wanted to really be clear about who I will support in the upcoming elections. So I did something different in the last couple of months, I began to pay attention to everything about politics that I loathed because I didn’t feel I had a voice. I listened to campaign speeches, I watched debates and I read commentaries. What convinced me that I should cast my vote for on Senator Obama is the refreshing and exhilarated feeling I get when he speaks the language of change. This past Saturday I felt energized, not by his win in South Carolina, but his victory speech and his crowd of supporters.

When Senator Obama said this about his constituency,

They are young and old, rich and poor. They are black and white, Latino and Asian. They are Democrats from Des Moines and Independents from Concord; Republicans from rural Nevada and young people across this country who've never had a reason to participate until now. And in nine days, nearly half the nation will have the chance to join us in saying that we are tired of business as usual in Washington, we are hungry for change, and we are ready to believe again.

His words gave me something to believe in, not again, but for the first time. And as I looked into the audience I saw people who looked like me, my boss, my coworker, the person on the subway, the bagger at the grocery store. I saw young African American women crying and clamoring to touch his hand as if he was the latest rock star. I saw elderly white people clapping and cheering for him. I saw all of the people that I believe Republicans disregard and view as cogs to move their machine of elitism. I saw people who are tired of Democrats showing up for our votes and offering us empty promises for change. I saw people energized and determined not to allow a political party to use the same tactics and distractions that put an administration in the White House that shoots people in the face. I saw people tired of business as usual politics and the status quo in Washington. I saw people who were raised to a level of hope and boldness I have never seen in this country.

I think for most Americans, we have either forgotten the importance of hope, feelings and emotion or have yet to experience it in our lifetime. And hope is frightening. After all, hope killed Martin Luther King. Hope killed John Kennedy. Hope killed Robert Kennedy. Whether we agreed or disagreed with these men or their political stance, they all raised hope among the people of this country, only to be struck down. So I am genuinely afraid for Senator Obama, that someone, not with a ‘trailer park’ racist mentality will assassinate him, but members of the controlling elite power structure that run this country will be the reason for his demise and the files will be sealed for 50 years and we will have to live with suspicions, conspiracy theories and conjecture as to what happened to our leader. But I have since let go of my fear. And for those African Americans that I have spoke with who echo these concerns, in the words of Franklin D. Roosevelt, “We have nothing to fear, but fear itself”. We must have hope.

For without hope there can be no change. I woke up this morning with hope for Senator Obama. That hope got me out of my bed to write this commentary. I believe in the Senator. I believe that he will respond to the needs of all of our people. I think we know as a country that it didn’t take one administration to put us in the poor economic state we are currently in. I think we all recognize that the new administration has so much work to do to unravel the mess the Republicans have created here and abroad. But Senator Obama has raised the stakes in this campaign. He is calling for change which can be scary. But what is hopeful for me is that my son, who turns 21 in two days, has a choice. My son can choose a man who looks like him to make decisions about his well-being. I would never have guessed that in the 21years since his birth, he would be able to see and believe that an African American can really be the President of the United States. Senator Obama’s candidacy suggests that our sons and daughters who represent all of the colors in the fabric of America now have a voice.

I have been infused with the audacity of hope, and fear will not stop me from spreading this message and working to elect a man that looks like me. It is not prejudice, it is pride.