My Nephew Thinks He's Michael Jackson

Okay, my newphew doesn't really think he's Michael Jackson but he's damn close to thinking/believeing that he is supposed to be caucasian, God made a mistake, and, by any means necessary, he's going to hold onto this truth, his truth. I must say, when he was 3, we thought it was hilarious. He would go around saying that he's not black (he is light-skin and his school is 95% Dominican and Catholic so I can see where the confusion comes in.)He lives in Harlem, a predominately Black and Latino quartier so his exposure to white people is very limited. He is obviously victim to the vicious color complex that assaults the minority communities, carried over from Willie Lynchism of slavery times. In his class photo, all the kids are light (including my nephew who looks more Dominican than black) and, when I asked him what the only little dark skinned girl in his class name was, he shrugged, made a disapproving scowl and said, “she’s black,” to which I responded, “What the hell you think you are?” He shook his head no.
I was confused as to where he was developing this kind of mentality. I know kids are cruel and say racist things derivative of their parents’ conditioning (I was called a “nigger-bitch” in first grade by a classmate who was probably repeating what his parents had said many times). But where is my nephew learning to be so ashamed of his skin color. At school, of course. I’m pretty sure he knows he’s black. His dad and grandmother are light (he says his grandmother is white) but his grandfather, aunts and mother are brown-skinned women. We are very much apart of his life interacting with him positively on every level possible. How could he develop racist tendencies usually associated with black kids who go to all white schools who are confused and disillusioned? My nephew has had the “best” of the blackest experience; a Harlem baby, a black nuclear family, a militant grandfather, and college educated parents, aunts and grandparents. He’s already been to Mexico several times on our family vacation and goes to Cali twice a year (where we’re all from). The only white person he knows and realizes is truly white is my dad’s girlfriend (how appropriate) who is 30 years younger, an aerobics instructor and has no problem walking around uptown singing the Jonas Brothers. Anyway, so my nephew, every time he sees my dad’s girlfriend, flips the script. He bats his eyes at her, he rubs her legs, he cries and pleads to sit on her lap and he follows her like an orphan would a prospective mom. Let me reiterate, we all thought it was hilarious that he wanted, so deeply, to be white…when he was 3. He’s now going on five, with a new little brown-skinned sister, and he is still fighting the forces of nature and assuming to be Caucasian.
So, of course, the next question is what should we do? I know his mother, aloof as can be, is not going to want to restrict his “creative outlets”. Whatever the fuck that means. I guess she wants him to be holistic and accepting of all creatures on God’s Earth. Which is great but she IS Buddhist and they want good to come to all, all the time, for eternity…His father is Buddhist, too, but a little more practical. He just thinks his son’s confused but something he’ll eventually grow out of. Of course, all the extended family thinks that this is a serious issue that must be dealt with soon.
I think we (meaning non-white people) have all experienced a pang of pain by not being accepted in a world where white trumps all. We’re continuously conditioned on white culture and success while subconsciously rejecting aspects of our culture that are delightful, unique and worthy of adulation. I believe my nephew is simply fascinated by white privilege, not knowing to the full extent how painful a black man’s experience in a white world can be. His father, also from Harlem, suffered greatly at an all white boarding school in Connecticut. He was also disillusioned by white culture at a very young age. After boarding school, however, he was awakened to real experience of racism. I know times have changed, especially for my nephew’s generation, but I wonder what it will take for him to accept people for who they are and overcome racism and white privilege. I want him to be proud of being black while his Puerto Rican best friend introduces him to his proud parade every summer. I want my nephew to not disgrace his grandfather because he is dark or disgrace his aunt because of my locks. Most of all, I don’t want him to disgrace himself, because he really can stretch himself as much as he’d like. He is growing up in an America where, by the time he’s 10, he would have never remembered a time without Obama’s influence. But, although the weather of America has become sunnier, the climate has shifted minimally and the old sentiments of Willie Lynch still apply. I just hope my little man will discover how to break out of his own chains that bind him.
Photo is of my Moonwalkin' nephew...

The Roommate Woes

This photo represents how I feel today: SIDEWAYZ. I took this about a month ago outside my building facing the ever-looming projects to the north and east of me. This is the project building to the east. But anywho, speaking of apartments and feeling sideways, let me update you on my circumstance of late. Currently, I’m not looking for a new apartment but I do need a roommate for my roommate’s room (if this makes any sense). If it doesn’t, well, lemme break it down to you. My roommate is leaving this summer to live at home. She is in Seminary school here in NYC and, upon learning that her loans would NOT cover her living in the apt during the summer, she decided to move into her parent’s house back in Orlando. I had a problem with this for several reasons…1) we all know those people who avoid confrontation like the plague. I think of them as avoiding challenge. I’m talking about the kind of person who shies from verbal and physical attacks, who does not stand up for oneself, who always prefers someone fight for him or her. If someone insults them to a deathly degree, they'll complain to you and cry instead of telling the insulter to "Eat my shit". They're the type of person to always say "yes" when they want to say "no" and be upset about it later, asking the question, "why do they want to take advantage of me?" They are also heavy users of the passive agressive tactics, e.g. slamming doors or playing their music really loud to make you wonder. They are those kind of people who are not necessarily fake, but you'll never know what they're really thinking. If you have read any of my previous blog entries, you will know that I’m NOT that kind of person. Not the total opposite; I don’t go looking for fights but I’m not running either. I stand up for myself. I'm not saying my roommate is all of these things either. She is a wonderful person with a wonderful heart (or else she wouldn't be my roommate). I mean, I got plenty of shit with me and most people can't put up with me, but she does, so THAT is to be lauded. Seriously.
Anyway, back to the subject. I wouldn’t call these kinds of people weak; on the contrary, I think it takes a lot of courage to be a punan (a pussy.) BUT, these kinds of people irritate me because they’re submissive. That’s kind of my roommate in a nutshell. So, when she was confronted with the prospect of having to work to pay rent this summer, she decides to bolt. No problem, I understand. Times are hard and $900 is a lot of money for one month. I could understand if she was unqualified to find a job, had already been struggling, or just loves to live with her parents. But she DOESN'T like living with her parents (she’s gay and cannot have women over and she’s 28 yrs old) and she’ll be away from her girlfriend the whole summer. I know she desperately wanted to live in the city but, instead of hustling to find a job, she took the easy way out (in my opinion). 2) Now, I must muster up some energy in finding a sub letter. My roommate has been extremely patient with me about our rent arrangements. I couldn’t find a job for a while so she sucked it up and let me pay her what I haven’t paid later. I am presently doing that and it’s working out fine. After all, I’m a hustler and hate owing people money. But, I do find this (me having to find a sub letter) somewhat problematic. My senior year in college, I decided to get away from my roommate and move into my own place. Because I knew I was moving before our lease expired, I hustled to find someone in a short time and, I did. I found a sub letter for my room until the lease was to be renewed. My ex-roommate was pissed that I had not included her in the process but I felt that it was my responsibility because I was moving before our lease was up. I’ve heard different opinions about this but I feel like I did the right thing. I know Karma’s a bitch so I’m not in the business of fucking people over. With that being said, my current roommate, I feel, has the responsibility of finding a new sub letter for her room because she is moving before the lease is up. But I know, for a fact, that her meekness is preventing her from being tenacious in a city (we live in NYC) that demands it. It will be a lot of work and a little heartache but not impossible. I think she’s just taking the easy road, once again, and running from confrontation. Maybe I’m just tripping but I don’t think so. I hope not anyway…I just needed to vent my good friend.

In This World, We Need To Wake Up

Will the times ever get any better in this world? I hate to sound Bono-ish, but seriously, will the times ever get any better? Financially, we are broken down and riddled with crises that our government, working on behalf of corporations, have created. I watch documentaries like "Zeitgeist", where a very apt filmmaker elaborates on the links between Hitler and the Bush Family (Hitler and Prescott Bush, W.'s grandfather, shared some company ties). I am saddened by the monopolization of media outlets (Rupert Murdoch, William Buffets and Time Warner's). The same corporation who owns Fox News owns The New York Post. I am flabbergasted by the number of people to lose their jobs and by the rate at which food pantries in suburban neighborhoods cannot support all the people in need. The foreclosed homes that have turned places like Flint, Michigan and parts of Detroit into ghost towns. In Nevada, there are so many foreclosed homes that mountain lions have taken whole neighborhoods, living in once plush, gated communities overrun now with weeds and vines. And health care, our poor, sick people suffering either overcome with medical bills or slowly decaying out of fear of the mountain of medical bills they'll acquire once they visit the emergency room.
I am disgusted at length with the despicable avarice of the Bush administration and those previous administrations that have sucked the resources out of taxpayers and the natural resources of the world. Of course, there are a multitude of factors that led to our present situation but, personally, I believe that corporations are the sole reason for our suffering. In 1954, Eisenhower warned of the danger of corporations being treated as people. He warned of the greed that grasps individuals in power, especially as their power pertains to the government. Andrew Jackson warned of the central bank, or Federal Reserve, that creates money literally out of nowhere and who, by creating this money as debt, increase incrementally the debt of the average American. How can this be? How have we been so bamboozled into thinking that charming, gun-slinging presidents cannot possibly lead their country into an abyss of suffocating "I owe yous". I'm pissed off, I'll tell you that much. I'm pissed at the people who blindly voted for incompetent assholes in office whose sole focus is material gain through embezzlement la bled bonuses. I'm pissed off at our media who refuses to highlight the dangers of corporations because they, themselves, are part of the very framework responsible for the crisis. Finally, I'm pissed myself and others for failing to get pissed the fuck off sooner, and take to the streets in protest. What did our parents fight for? And I'm speaking to everyone when I say that. My parents witnessed/participated in those revolutionary events of the 50s, 60s, and 70s. I don't care if you're not black, your parents were subjected/witnessed to some form of revolution. The Sandinista guerrillas in Nicaragua, the revolution in Panama over the criminal construction of the canal, Che Guevara and nationalism. In West Africa, there was revolution and fights for independence in almost every country. Even in Asia there were Chinese demanding freedom of speech in Tienanmen Square. Sri Lankans, Bangladeshis, Siberians, Mongolians even the aboriginal tribes in New Zealand had their revolutions. So what did our parents NOT relay to our generation with respect to individual rights and the government across the world? When did we lose our zeal? When did we cease to be angry and agree to be complacent? Like a bobble head on a dashboard? You know it's bad when even the Frenchies become super-conservative (remember the xenophobic tactics of Sarkozy?)
I want people to get mad. Get angry and then get involved. Write your legislatures, put pressure on lobby groups. Attain some power by hosting fundraisers to support your local food bank. Then write your mayor explaining your disappointment with his dealing with the homeless population. Just do something. It's the only way we can ensure that our government works for us and not the other way around. And, in case you were wondering, I have done most of the above to make people aware of their condition and what they can do about it. I try to practice what I preach (sometimes).

Read a book, jackass

I've chosen a unique headline for several reasons. 1) The title amuses me. hahaha. 2)I've encountered people who mock those who read. I know, it seems archaic as hell, but it happens and it's so disappointing. Now, I'm not saying that all books are meant to teach. Au contraire, I'm saying that there is definitely something to learn from a book. I know my history books were bullshit. Know how I knew? 'Cause I read other books that put me on to the miseducation that the textbook writers were slanging. History writers write history...but anyway, back to the subject.

I started this book when I was in West Africa. I love the story telling ability of Allende in this book. She is so descriptive and adept with her words. As a serious writer, I really admire her usage and form. She is tight and precise and I think that a tight technique is very hard to acquire. They are fantastical and mysterious. I wish I could describe her to many authors but only one precedes her ability to tell a book so cleverly. I read One Hundred Years of Solitude years ago and I reread it overseas and it blew me away. I thought no one could match Marquez's gift of storytelling but I think Allende captured it beautifully. I'm excited to be rereading her book and I can't wait to read some more of hers. I hope to finish this one this week.

I had to leave Saul Bellows alone. I think he writes like a self-adulating asshole who prides himself on his grandiloquence. I think it's bullshit and arrogant. Maybe I got the guy all wrong...

9 tuh 5

Damn, that's just what I needed. Since my return in August, I've applied to approximately 160 jobs. The industries ran the board from restaurant hostess to financial planner and building inspector. I applied to jobs in fields in which I had no experience. I dropped dimes to friends who dropped the same to me on places hiring. My homegirl pounded the pavement everyday, calling from locations, then, calling again 15 minutes later to report on the rapport of her interview. My brain swirled. I tried all types of shit. I worked at a restaurant, as a house inspector and freelance hotel reviewer. I busted open doors with dope fiends in the foreclosed homes which my team was supposed to secure. Property Preservation the banks called it. My last resort was Duane Reade but I never did it to myself. Hell naw, I thought, I ain't going out like that.
But I was willing to do some shit other people wouldn't work hard for. Half the people I knew weren't working. Shit, the economy was and still is twisted. Finding a job boiled down to inner hustle. I searched everyday; I mass e-mailed on craigslist and Yahoo. Monster was bullshit but for 7 months I used every avenue I could to find a 9 to 5. I've never had one so I was excited to find a steady job with a regular check. I mean, I'm 24 and I really want some expendable cash to kickit. My finding a job was critical to that goal. The inner hustle came and my voracious drive kicked the do'(door) in! Holla!!! After 7 months of searching, my "dream" came true. I just know I'll be getting a steady check to fuck of with! The doubt tho, the doubt.
Was it really what I was looking for? Do I want to live my life in an everlasting Office Space? I don't know. I can say this: this job vapidly sucks the intellect out of me . I mean the tasks require absolutely no critical thought. They are simple and mechanical and repetitive. Good for those into daydreaming and fucking off their money on drunk weekends and gadgets (e.g. me) or for writing and blogging (there I am again).