a daughter's geography {adios}

2009-04-22T11:42:00.004-04:00

everything is always changing.
but these new changes require my mind to be much more quiet and focused than it has been in years.
i welcome them.
i'd like to put my energy into something new.
i am not writing in this blog anymore.
maybe i will start another blog after things change.

2009-04-09T23:10:00.004-04:00

the run around all day.
spent too much money.
loosened ends so i could tie them up again.
then hauled ass to the airport
and the flight is overbooked.
the stressing, the rushing
gave me a nasty headache.

so i came back home.
i showered.
i rubbed chamomile and lavender oil
all over my body.
i feel better.

hawaii trip postponed until saturday.
my mama's cool with it.
i'm cool with it.
gotta sss-low down.

got to.

these things happen for a reason.

Flyest Poem Ever

2009-04-07T12:22:00.004-04:00

There are poems I love with all of my being. There are so many of those poems. There are poems hidden in my apartment. I put them in the pages of books and on the inside cabinet doors and in desk drawers so that I can be surprised every once in a while. I can be a teenager in the corner of the bookstore learning history, stanza by stanza, again. I love poetry. I say "YES!" to poetry. I say "I do."
I will not ever have a favorite poem. Impossible. That would not work. They all are strung together, one making the other stronger, louder, more real, more raw.
But there is one that gives me pause, that has brought tears to my eyes as I've listened to it read by a six year old girl, that sends a chill down my back. It is well-known and much-loved. It is Ego Tripping by Nikki Giovanni, the first poet I ever really read, whose early edition books I collect the way others do seashells and postage stamps.
Here it is.

Ego Tripping

I was born in the congo
I walked to the fertile crescent and built
the sphinx
I designed a pyramid so tough that a star
that only glows every one hundred years falls
into the center giving divine perfect light
I am bad
I sat on the throne
drinking nectar with allah
I got hot and sent an ice age to europe
to cool my thirst
My oldest daughter is nefertiti
the tears from my birth pains
created the nile
I am a beautiful woman
I gazed on the forest and burned
out the sahara desert
with a packet of goat's meat
and a change of clothes
I crossed it in two hours
I am a gazelle so swift
so swift you can't catch me
For a birthday present when he was three
I gave my son hannibal an elephant
He gave me rome for mother's day
My strength flows ever on

My son noah built new/ark and
I stood proudly at the helm
as we sailed on a soft summer day
I turned myself into myself and was
jesus
men intone my loving name
All praises All praises
I am the one who would save
I sowed diamonds in my back yard
My bowels deliver uranium
the filings from my fingernails are
semi-precious jewels
On a trip north
I caught a cold and blew
My nose giving oil to the arab world
I am so hip even my errors are correct
I sailed west to reach east and had to round off
the earth as I went
The hair from my head thinned and gold was laid
across three continents
I am so perfect so divine so ethereal so surreal
I cannot be comprehended except by my permission
I mean...I...can fly
like a bird in the sky...

Those last nine lines once rocked young B's soul.

2009-04-02T15:01:00.000-04:00

To rescue our children we will have to let them save us from the power we embody: we will have to trust the very difference that they forever personify. And we will have to allow them the choice, without fear of death: that they may come and do likewise or that they may come and that we will follow them, that a little child will lead us back to the child we will always be, vulnerable and wanting and hurting for love and for beauty.

June Jordan

2009-04-02T14:36:00.006-04:00

um.... uh...
heh, i need a moment please.

(deep breath)

so

it's not official yet
but i've been invited to read
some of my poetry
alongside
one of my favorite poets

a man who i have
wanted to sit down with
and ask if he could kindly
lend me his ear

a five-year old wish
could be something
that no longer happens
only in my head.

2009-04-02T01:25:00.004-04:00

2009-04-01T14:43:00.003-04:00

I wanna go for a ride. A wild one.
Want something to come and shake shit up.
Maybe I should be the instigator?
I'm good at that.

2009-03-31T22:57:00.003-04:00

DC in three days
Hawaii in ten
Ain't been this happy
since I don't know when

Sunday Shine * { Freckle in My Eye }

2009-03-29T20:51:00.011-04:00

Don't want to forget to mention:

If you live in Dallas or will be traveling there in April, you must check out the DFW Fringe Festival at the Hub Theater. My friend Ashley Wilkerson will be performing her one-woman show, Freckle In My Eye.
I cannot tell you how much I wish I could see this show.
Ashley is a phenomenal woman personified. People like her only come around once in life. I will never forget the day I first met her. She rolled into a tiny liberal arts school with these quick, raspy words, all this humor and truth weaved into everything she says. She was speaking to people like she'd known them forever, and her warmth and confidence had me speechless and smiling. Over the years, she has been so supportive, remembering the little things I've told her, her voice coming from out of nowhere it seems, telling me to write, reminding me that that is what I do. I love this woman and I know her show is going to be layered, poignant and beautiful.

2009-03-28T21:25:00.002-04:00

Nobody I know is staying home tonight. I choose to. I walked into my apartment at 5 in the afternoon after spending the night and most of the day at a friend's and I all I could see was chaos, things. I was having fun at my friend's until I starting thinking about the laundry that I hadn't done. And then it became an obsession and I didn't feel okay with anything. It's strange how I let something like that kinda put a funk on a really nice day. So the laundry's done. But there are still things, out of place, misplaced, unplaced, some unwanted. All I want right now is a clean home. I opened up Pandora and pulled out the brooms, dust rags, giveaway box. I stay purging.

2009-03-25T19:55:00.009-04:00

I changed the name of this blog to reverie, wanderlust + love notes.

2009-03-25T14:26:00.008-04:00

I really want some warm weather on my skin now. I don't think I should have to fly to Miami or Hawaii to get my fix. It's spring New York, get it together.

I had a visitor the other day who said "Your space is so relaxing." It's because my job is not. I had another visitor who said "But if you've been miserable for three years, yet you keep coming back, then you must be getting something out of this. What are you getting out of this?" Hmmmmmmmmmmm. I only know what I'm not.

And I know my dream. My ultimate tippytop shining bright dream of dreams.

The dream is to stay at home and write while raising babies, walk around and take pictures, watercolor cross the page, a book is bound, and money's made. That's the dream. It could happen ~~but~~.

I miss my records. They're in a box tucked tightly into some corner in my mother's house, a corner only she can remember, but always forgets. I miss my B-sides and rare cuts. I miss the melodies that seem to always unravel memory.

Did I write about Our First Big Fight? I know I didn't because I was heated. And then And my thoughts took me to dark places but I kept telling myself we ain't breaking up over this shit. Two years, want more. Two break-ups too many. We talked it out, cried it loose, I cooled and life went on.

I'm one of those teachers that happily counts down to the last day of school. But this year is different because I ain't coming back.

And just for good measure: I'm feenin' for some warmth. Don't want to cloak another coat over my body. I want to show off my yellow shorts and shiny brown legs and pretty toes.

A Room Full of Women

2009-03-23T19:26:00.004-04:00

If nothing else, my weekends are glorious.

I was invited to attend the first what I'm sure will be many uplifting women's gatherings. A room full of community seekers, brown women, so many spots on the globe represented, so. many. stories. We shared personal affirmations. My list grew from two to twenty as everyone spoke. Talk of one dream re-birthed more than I can count. Such an honor to be within.

A willing commitment to trust, healing and expression.

Nothing this good has come around in a minute.

Thank you ladies. Thank you so much.

The Shift

2009-03-18T10:46:00.009-04:00

In the past two days, two friends and one fellow blogger (congratulations Aichlee!) have received the wonderful news of acceptance into grad school. All the celebratory talk of fulfilling life dreams has me reconsidering the Mills College and Columbia applications I requested last year, and then filed away after convincing myself of inevitable rejection. All the lovely details of my aspirations blurred by a lot of self-doubt. But that is not the person I want to be, someone unwilling to even try.

Why am I so scared? K has made me hyper-aware of my fears and my tendency to let them divert me away from doing what is best, what is right or what could potentially be positively transforming for me.

Right now, with a career change looming in the future, my curiosities and passions seem to be forming a path for me whether I want them to or not. What job can be molded from serious interests in photography + nutrition + travel + education? I know there's an answer somewhere. Aside from my job, I'm so content with every other aspect of my life. Things haven't felt this good in a very long time. Never have I felt so proud of the things I have been able to do for myself. And things can be even better so I can't afford to be fearful.

I am trying. Instead of panicking about the recession and making superficial adjustments to my spending, I made a plan that should carry me through. But when I consider school and changing jobs, questions start to rise again. What modifications do I need to make to apply to school, attend school, search for a job, possibly move?

I don't mind the the switch, the interviews, the paperwork, but I'm unwilling to jeopardize my credit (which is in good-standing professionally and financially) or make moves without taking the time to truly understand the scope of it all. I want to be able to make the changes and sacrifices (or even consider making them) with knowledge, grace and balance.

Sunday Shine* { Green }

2009-03-15T21:00:00.007-04:00

+
I finally found the shade of green-gold that I'd been searching for to paint my bedroom. It's such a soothing and fresh color. I took my inspiration from the top photo (yes, I want that hanging chair too, but I can do better things with $400 right now). My room is pretty similar to the one in the photo - white linens, old wood floors, sunny, multi-textured. I carried that picture around with me for a few weeks, then went to the hardware store, picked up a some sample jars and painted green patches on my bedroom walls this weekend. Benjamin Moore's "Sweet Pear" (bottom photo) is lovely, but I lean toward Pratt & Lambert's "Scent of Semillion" for it's drop of green. Gotta get a few supplies and I'm ready. Looking forward to inviting a couple friends over for a painting party and changing things up a bit.

+
K and I were all over Brooklyn today, visiting open houses. He's looking for a new home and wants to take advantage of the city's busted market. We looked at a beautiful condo in Clinton Hill, some renovated brownstones in Bed-Stuy and then took a peek at these sustainable "green" condos in my neck of the woods. It's nice to watch the sustainable living movement spread like wildfire, and getting a tour of a sustainable home definitely had me taking mental notes on what kind of property I want to invest in in the future. It definitely gave me an even clearer idea of just how much we consume and then waste.
K and I were treated as a married couple all day, and it was very interesting to see how we both handled it, how our dynamic shifted because of it, which questions were directed to me, which ones went to him. That's all I'll say about that for now.

+
I wrote out a pretty impressive financial plan for myself yesterday. Even if there are some surprises along the way, my credit card debt will be paid off in a few months (it feels so so so good to know this) and I can start investing the money in my IRA. Suze Orman would be proud.

retrospect for love

2009-03-05T10:48:00.002-05:00

lover
loves her
leaves her
she ain't scared
she ain't scarred
she's a healer
love's a healer
love heals her

2009-03-02T06:31:00.006-05:00

It's a snow day! I have been saved! I felt like a little kid, bouncing around my apartment, smiling and screaming. Poor K. He has to go to work and I woke him up.

No work means I can

- make french toast for breakfast
- do some serious suryanamaskara
- take care of some phone calls
- open up an IRA
- blend some scalp oil
- make tea, wrap myself up and finish "Another Country"
- make another batch of barley risotto with mushrooms, parmesan, leeks + shallots
- listen to the lovely sounds of music all day long

The Obamas & Stevie on PBS tonight!

2009-02-26T06:51:00.005-05:00

Last night, President and First Lady Obama presented Stevie Wonder with the Gershwin Prize at the White House. The Gershwin Prize is the country's highest honor for music.
I can attest to the fact, as I'm sure most others can, that Stevie's music has brought the highest joy, love and light into our life. (The Wonder-full parties here in NY are akin to an especially lively tent revival.) The White House was definitely the party to attend last night, with performances by will.i.am, Esperanza Spalding, Diana Krall, and Wonder himself.
PBS will broadcast the ceremony tonight at 9pm.

click

2009-02-23T20:09:00.005-05:00

Most times when I run into someone I know from college, they'll ask me if I'm still writing. When I say, "No, not really" I may feel a pang of resentment (towards my self, my job), but I'm okay with it.
But last week, when I was in Miami - gloriously sunny and ocean-breezy and starry-skied Miami - I ended up seeing a few folks from high school, teachers and classmates, and nearly everyone asked me if I was still taking photos. Because photos and poems were all I did. During high school, as well as in my year "off" from New York. Tell them no felt horrible. Like I'd neglected a true love long just long enough for it to finally walk away from me. Like Susan Maguire and Peggy Nolan (to whom I owe endless thanks) wasted their energy and enthusiasm on me. Or like my mama saving up for photo paper and lenses and attachments was all in vain. Mostly because I know how much I love photography.

I need to stop using the excuse that my most of my shit vanished. I really need to grab my Pentax K-1000, my baby, and hit the road.

Me and digital cameras will never get along.
Darkroom space in the city is still affordable.
The "We Shoot Film" community on flickr inspires me and brings back tons of memories.
Nothing else gives me a greater feeling of balance and serenity than spending a day in a darkroom.
It may save me.

sage advice from Kesha Bruce:
Instead, move to a small to medium sized city where cost of living is low. Rent a 2 bedroom apartment and use one room for your studio. Get a completely non-art-related job (save your creative energy for yourself!)to pay the bills and cover your health insurance.

Couldn't be a more appropriate time for me to read this. What's more is that K has been preaching this to me for months now, but I hadn't been able to appreciate it.

My closest friend is in the same predicament as I, and while we're pretty upset the teaching dream ain't working out for either us, it's nice to know we can plan our escape route together.

Better news? What doesn't happen for me on paper or on film is popping off in the kitchen lately - and this is SO okay with me.
While I was in Miami, I was cooking alongside my aunt Gloria, who was visiting my parents. She is easily one of the best cooks in my family and in Barbados (yeah, I said it). I could die happy every time she fixes me a plate.She was gently placing all the Bajan, Grenadian, Jamaican, Welsh and French cooking secrets she knows into my memory. So I'm feeling even more eager to plan my next dinner party.
I'm glad K's around to try everything I'm making. He and I eat a lot. I cook on the weekends and we go out a few times during the week. We can (and have) spent hours talking about what we've eaten or what we wanna eat. We made a reservation at a very nice little spot by the water for Brooklyn Restaurant Week. I'm looking forward to a finally being able to eat a formal restaurant. It's one of those New York City things I always wanted to do.

Until then, I'm on a mission to get out, see more, spend nothing. Later this week, K and I are going to the Jack Shainman Gallery to see the Hank Willis Thomas exhibit. Then on Sunday I'm booking it back to the Studio Museum to see the permanent collection. Last time, I was transfixed by the Barkley Hendricks portraits and forgot about everything else.

Like A Whisper

2009-02-18T12:11:00.006-05:00

I remember once reading that blogs should have a specific topic and audience in mind, in order to be "successful." I'm sure that's true, but always knew that my blog would never have a true focus. I write about myself, mainly it's a online journal, it satisfies my need to exchange ideas and my need to keep a running record of things I'm learning about myself, so as not to repeat some mistakes again. Right now, I'm inclined to focus on pretty simple things and love.
Every now and then, I may weave in a little tale about teaching, but it's mainly just to vent, to express a very deep heartache this job has me feeling and (hopefully) to find a solution that will benefit myself and my students (even if that means no longer being a classroom teacher).
I do play around with the idea of making this a photo blog. That's what I'd really like. I make excuses all the time, though. I shoot film, mainly, And getting film developed and printed is a pricey and time-consuming process. But I guess my little digital camera will have to do.
I find myself spending too much time worrying about if what I put in this space matters, even to me, and then I get annoyed because it's not doing me much to get caught up in trying to figure that out. I should just let this space become whatever it becomes.

I have read some brilliant writing on blogs. And then I have my stash of personal journals and photo diaries, which I love. But I always appreicate the blogs that make an effort to connect like-minded people in order to foster some kind of social change. One such blog is Like A Whisper, authored by professor Potente Susurro, which I just learned about early this morning. After reading lot of the posts, disbelief, tears, anger, but then I'm smiling because it all sparked a sense of duty and meaning in me that I've been neglecting.

Sunday Shine* { Brooklyn Is For Lovers }

2009-02-16T11:18:00.010-05:00

lincoln ave.
2.15.09

B'day Shout: Alice Walker

2009-02-09T07:05:00.005-05:00

Alice Walker gave me Celie/Shug love, a book of essays that kinda saved my 19-year old self, a storm of poems and a philosophy I understood fully, one that allowed me to find peace in being black and female and in love with people.

Sunday Shine* { Good, Beautiful, Love }

2009-02-08T22:46:00.003-05:00

"I wish to live because life has within it that which is good, that which is beautiful and that which is love. Therefore, since I have known all of these things, I have found them to be reason enough and—I wish to live. Moreover, because this is so, I wish others to live for generations and generations and generations."

- Lorraine Hansberry

+ received a holy scripture a few weeks ago and i been born again (in the kitchen, that is)
+ miami in a week
+ first saturday at brooklyn museum (fela vs. james vs. 90s jams)... hotHOThot....last night became another favorite memory
+ a warmer day, so the windows were opened to welcome a much-needed breeze
+ collecther always, always comes through

A Divine Trinity

2009-01-25T19:55:00.003-05:00

If I had an altar
on it you would see
Lucille, Nikki and Rumi.
asante sana

Sunday Shine* { O.G. 2009 }

2009-01-25T18:55:00.006-05:00

I'd been typing, drafting, writing, crossing out, erasing, deleting, trying to build a cohesive thought for the things going down socially, communally, globally - but the sentences never formed.
Sometimes I need to write a poem. Just about forgot I started this life for myself, 15 years old, as a poet. How did I almost lose myself?

O.G. 2009
(a poem for Oscar, Sean, Robert, those before, those to come & my black boys)

if anything

you have reminded me
"good mornings"
are not to be taken for granted
there is nothing more appropriate than
a student trying hard to show
he loves

you have done more

on the newest day for many
another chance for most
you in your daughter's eye
your body and the platform
your blood dyeing our heavy cloak
reactions uncontainable like your smile
a people known for their good memory, even wiser

it is never over

a plaque on the station bench
a march to nowhere
a rock to a window
a flame to the gas
a misstatement of your name
but violence also begets
a spirit as aflame as the streets
the first protest from the last breath
a daisy sprung from the bullet wound
I hear the soil is rich in Oakland

2009-01-20T00:17:00.003-05:00

She didn't read books so she didn't know that she was the world and the heavens boiled down to a drop.

Imagine writing a line that says more about our plight than all the pages in all the volumes written on the subject.
Zora was no joke.

2009-01-19T10:29:00.005-05:00

Today, the love is like tamarind lentils & coconut rice.

Recent Attitude

2009-01-12T19:17:00.003-05:00

Fuck teaching.
I wanna dance.

A Childhood

2009-01-08T18:03:00.006-05:00

I want my children to have

~ two parents in a nice sized house
~ the beach just a short distance away
~ mango, grapefruit and avocado trees in the backyard
~ family spread around the world
~ an early knowledge of roots, history
~ openness about their bodies and their sexuality
~ grandparents who bless them with all kinds of wisdom
~ access to free art, music, dance, photography, creative writing classes
~ backyard front yards neighbor's yards to roam
~ bicycles
~ dinner at the table
~ a vegetable patch
~ each other
~ attendance at an excellent public school where their teachers who know exactly which books will change their lives
~ an early, almost immediate and extensive traveling experience
~ summers with their grandparents
~ hammocks in the shade
~ weekly trips to the library
~ a role in making meals
~ the understanding that you earn your keep
~ the opportunity to attend a school they love
~ the belief that love is endless and infinite
~ the choice to nurture their spirituality in whichever ways they want
~ the opportunity to try every at least one time so long as it doesn't jeopardize their life
~ their creativity cultivated without the presence of toys
~ an arsenal of colored pencils, markers, crayons, pastels, chalk and watercolor paint
~ no fear of water
~ days off from school to hang out with their parents
~ bagged lunches
~ all kinds of pets
~ neighbors who speak different languages and beliefs but still invite them in for a snack because they've been running around all day
~ a long rope, a ball, a hula hoop
~ homeopathic remedies that heal them when they're ill
~ a father who is confident, charismatic and generous
~ a mama who is the most perfect person in the world to them
~ sleepovers
~ music playing
~ play sessions that their parents take an active part in
~ a deep, unbreakable compassion for other people
~ family traditions
~ the knowing that things will get better
~ hour-long embraces
~ head massages from their mama
~ bad jokes from their daddy
~ an unbelievable amount of cultural and ethnic diversity amongst their friends
~ appreciation for what they do have instead of a wanting of what they don't

because these are the things my parents graciously gave to me

new year

2009-01-05T20:53:00.005-05:00

waited because i don't know what to say, where to begin, or where to end.

holding onto the plans, they're better shared over the phone, or in conversations over incredible food, the car ride home, a walk in a forest, a long email even, anywhere but here.

things are swell. moving. changing some, but definitely moving. i appreciate me.

i have no lists or promises. well, nothing other than wash all the dishes after every meal. i have projects i'll continue to build, and always ideas swirling in my mind, leaking out onto a page here or there, most concrete enough to explain but too precious to share.

bringing the tape recorder to work because my kids drop gems. quietly grew into a signature recognizable un-biteable style. mindful of my consumption (of items, of food, of words & information). all i need i have. and then some. cooking up a storm - or a breeze, depending on who tells it. barack-hope waning as economynaturalresourcespublicschoolspeople suffer. south carolina calling. multiple orgasms. set out the welcome mat for possibilities. i love. i worry. i'm ready.

fireworks along a river seen from a hotel balcony. no bubbles or beans. a fresh year for us, but i'm set on "twenty brand new hours to live."

Muhsinah's "That Day"

2008-12-22T08:42:00.004-05:00

*artwork by anna_log
check her flickr page, she's made some beautiful drawings of Mushinah & some other folks.

"That Day" has me smiling, damn near giddy. I've had it on repeat for days. Makes me hopeful (for what? nothing in particular...) Muhsinah is golden, and Oddisee did a real nice job with the beat.

Sunday Shine* { I Get A Little Warm In My Heart }

2008-12-21T21:41:00.008-05:00

A snowy view from my kitchen window.

It seemed wrong to make a rant my shine for the day.
So, instead...

Happy Winter Solstice!

I'm grateful the next two days will be sunny, since they'll also be cold. I listen to my chimes on the fire escape and that wind is coming in strong. The word is to spend the next three days envisioning the life you want to live and the life you want your loved ones to live, and then, begin living it.

secret: every winter I end up walking around singing "Winter" by Tori Amos to myself

I Didn't Make The Coat

2008-12-21T20:28:00.006-05:00

Stepped out into the slush to meet up with a friend for lunch. I didn't eat nothing. I just sat there in my coat, sipping on lemonade and talking that talk. On our way out, this girl who'd been eyeing me the whole time starts cooing, "I looooooove your coat." And before I could say "thank you" I caught myself, remembered the little bit I left with my kids with last week: Don't compliment the thing, compliment the person. So, I just kinda smiled at her all awkward and was out.

Ah well I'm just being that girl, scrutinizing all the others, not to decide who's better, but just to see how we do. And, honestly, I don't like how we do. We all do it. Empty compliments, undeserved praise, appearance applauded while personality remains unknown and unrequested. It's silly. ~~Sorry.~~

The Inaugural Poet

2008-12-20T09:08:00.006-05:00

Cave Canem still remains a dream deferred for me. *BIG sigh* But the light of one of their teacherpoets will be seen by the masses on Inauguration Day. Barack chose Elizabeth Alexander as the Inaugural Poet. Ms. Alexander, who wrote
Poetry is what you find
in the dirt in the corner,

overhear on the bus, God
in the details, the only way

to get from here to there.

words I've tucked into my mind for safekeeping, is direct, striking.
I'm happy for us, and I'm anticipating the words she will be speak on stage, to somanypeoplemygod next month.

2008-12-19T21:52:00.002-05:00

I love the downtime of a quiet Friday night.

It's late, but not too late to enjoy a cup of jasmine tea, tidy up while listening to some bossa nova, smile to myself about the love I felt from all kinds of folks this week and reflect on the bad habits I must change if I know what's good for me.

Turn ons: a love for nature + a love for poetry + good looks

2008-12-18T19:39:00.005-05:00

A brilliant designer by the name of Jiyeon Song has created one of the coolest and most thoughtful displays of public art (and just one of the greatest things I have seen, ever): the "One Day Poem Pavilion" - perforated panels that use sunlight to make poetry.
As the sun travels its daily course, the sunlight coming through the tiny holes creates shadows that reveal short poems. The poems lengthen and shorten throughout the day.
During the summer solstice, the poems have a theme of new life, while during the winter solstice, the poems speak about the passing of time.

Bringing poetry to the masses while honoring nature, Song deserves a Nobel.

The idea and research behind the project, as well as a time-lapse video, is located here.

Heart in the Classroom

2008-12-18T13:48:00.005-05:00

School ends in a half hour.
Earlier today, a wonderful woman came to work with my 6th graders on "putting up" each other - giving and receiving genuine compliments and praise. The activities she did with them brought me to tears and I had to step outside for a minute.

She did an activity that I dubbed "Heart" - two students stand in the front of the room, one is given a marker, the other is pinned with a white paper heart. The student with the marker listens to a story as the child with the heart acts it out. Every time the story mentions a positive act or kind words, the student with the marker colors in a little part of the paper heart. In the first story, the experiences and words are very negative. In the second story, they are very lovely. At the end of each story, the class is asked "How do you think _____ felt after experiencing all this?" and the class calls out any emotions that came to mind. Of course, a filled in heart has experienced more "sweet love" as one student called it, then an empty heart.

This part where they called out emotions was my favorite.
First, my students displayed an incredible amount of empathy - moreso than they've ever shown each other.
Two, they are great dramatists. I was cracking up at their performances and expressions.
Three, they were choosing some great words: displaced, jubilant, elated, ecstatic, melancholy - I kept thinking Where did they get these words from? Then I remembered all those words are from their recent vocabulary practice. So, of course that made me feel pretty awesome.

I'm so thankful this lady is going to be working with the special needs students next month. What she brought out of them was beautiful, the environment she quickly established with them was safe enough even for my shyest students to speak about pain they sometimes feel.

As their teacher, it was powerful to hear them talk about their positive and negative experiences with me. I cringed as they recounted all the words I've said or even faces I've made during really difficult moments. And then completely blown away when they expressed as a whole that they "know Ms. B is under a lot of stress right now, trying to get us to be ready for life and for the test." They spoke about times I have made them feel empowered and times I made them feel worthless. Yes, one child said I'd made him feel worthless when I lost my patience with him last month. Wow. I spoke to this child privately later on and we both explained our sides of the story to each other, we promised each other how we would handle our conflicts in the future, and forgave each other. I absolutely love and am infinitely grateful for my job.

The power of our words... crazy.

Twinkle

2008-12-15T10:53:00.007-05:00

At this time of year, I'm usually trying to rush December out the back door and make my living room warm and cozy for January. I'm rattling of "gonna do"s, pseudo-promises and earnest resolutions on paper and in conversation, and getting rid of tons of junk but always forgetting to create a place for what remains.

This year is different.

I started purging my apartment in September. It has been a slower, more thoughtful process than in past years, and I can say, finally and with a smile, that everything in my space is beautiful and useful and has a place.

And I'm not shooing December away because what the next couple of weeks have the potential to be rather amazing. It would be wrong to see past the time off from work and the trip with K. Every day he calls me with another idea of how we could spend the time together, and I think to myself Is this my man? This is my man and I am loving him.

Change comes, always. I feel no inclination to create resolutions or even check off the things I'd resolved to do last December. I did and felt and created and lost (and regained) and discovered and watched and read and heard and internalized many wonderful and complicated and ugly things - tangible or not.

The plan, though I may not have noticed it at the time, is to live a life.

Sunday Shine* { Kick }

2008-12-14T13:01:00.005-05:00

I woke up early to finish reading Giovanni's Room. I ate breakfast and drank juice, then I went to a kickboxing class. I thought I'd be there, practicing my punches and kicks by imagining the things and people that have recently made me angry. But as we practiced, I quickly realized I am not angry at all. What I am is afraid. And I think being afraid is just as bad or worse than being angry. I went to the class to confront that fear. The fake guns and the knives and swords mounted on the walls made me panic a bit. The talk of "targets" troubled my concentration. Half the battle is showing up, and I showed up, and I plan on going back, but it's a long road ahead.

Kameelah Writes

2008-12-13T12:42:00.005-05:00

Kameelah writes lines and lines of poignancy; these being some of them:

to some extent i may fear what it means to be at my happiest. even moreso, i may fear the risks i have to take to get there. i could never see myself as beautiful because i fear what that means. if i admit beauty then i am ultimately responsible to uphold that beauty--there would be no escape to a comfortable doubt. i would have to always celebrate the beauty i know Allah(swt) blessed me with, but that i am so hesitant to share with the world.

Most definitely.

Secrets To Be Shed, Books To Be Read

2008-12-08T18:48:00.009-05:00

On a recent visit to the library a couple weeks ago, I passed a misplaced copy of Giovanni's Room. I set it on top of the small stack of books in my hands and went to the check out line. I'd start reading the other books, but on each attempt, I kept wanting to read Giovanni's Room instead. It has been a good three or four years since I read anything by James Baldwin, and I've never read any of his fiction. So I started Giovanni's Room yesterday. My heart peels open a little more with each word, and I know in a short time I will feel raw, completely naked, as if all my life experiences and secrets are exposed to anyone who happens to pass me by. I read with constricted breath and feel tears might fall any second. Such a voice. A simple gesture turns into a magnitude of feeling and I am sucked in.

I read Hurston to my students, the man I love is tackling Fanon, and it seems like Langston's name is spoken in every conversation I have with any black man or woman old enough to be my parent. And now Giovanni's Room sits in my bag, I read a couple pages any free moment I get at work. On all fronts, I feel immersed in heart-work, and its effects on those I love and even those I know nothing of, which no doubt brings to a surface a lot of the curiosities and emotions I tend to set aside or ignore completely.

Do we have these kinds of writers anymore? Yes, their books are canonical, and they've been turned into deities, but that's besides the point.
As my peers rave about Jhumpa Lahiri and Paul Beatty, who no doubt do their thing and do it well (though I couldn't get into Slumberland at all; saving it for another time, another season...), I feel like I know of no present-day writers who make me feel this vulnerable, as those who are no longer with us could. Am I being too nostalgic? What is Sapphire up to? I recently spotted Suzan Lori-Parks in a shop the other day, but was too shy to ask her any questions.

My to-reads list is growing, mostly catching up on books I didn't finish or kept putting off for cheaper thrills or overly-hyped sensations.
Here's what I'm (in some cases, still) working on:

Drown by Junot Diaz (Keep putting it off. I know, how dare I?)
The Train of Salt & Sugar by Licinio de Azevedo
A Mercy by Toni Morrison
The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand
Living, Loving And Lying Awake At Night by Sindiwe Magona
Unburnable by Maria-elana John
Becoming Abigail by Chris Abani (The follow-up to Graceland, which I loved deeply, crept right by me)
Brother, I'm Dying by Edwidge Danticat

In Brooklyn, there is feverish talk of a renaissance in visual art and music. What about one for the written word? Am I out of a loop? Not looking hard enough? Near enough? (I have my eye on one dude; he works diligently, but never finishes and I am losing patience).

On Waiting

2008-12-06T19:39:00.007-05:00

On my 23rd birthday, I met a woman named Mars. I spent a lot of time talking to her about the kind of life I wanted for myself and she told me that if my intentions were good, the things I desired would come to me, in their own divine time.

I think that's the moment I chose to embrace waiting, and decided to spend the time actively pursuing other things until what I wanted arrived.

I am in love with a man. We have not known each other long, but we have taught each other many things. I do not believe in asking people to change in order to make myself feel more comfortable. I am who I am and I adapt as I see fit, and my expectations of others reflects this. There were things I wanted in our relationship that I told myself to wait for - simple words filled with love, days dedicated to being alone with each other, and the absence of anxiety when we talked. These things are here now.

It took me back to the only promise we made each other when we first started dating: Take things slow and easy.

It's easy to see how I've grown, but I'm amazed by how much he has shifted. He has had patience with his own heart (as well as the humility to ask for forgiveness, and the nerve to call me again).

So, no, I don't mind waiting, as long as I'm happily going about my business in the meantime.
I live in a city (nation? society?) where people talk a lot about "making shit happen" and waiting for things to come is frowned upon. But my own life has taught me that patience is necessary. I can call on things to come into existence and then do my best to prepare for them.

I'm It

2008-12-04T23:08:00.008-05:00

I've been chosen by Amber of Smart Went Crazy, But Where Did You Go? (read her post "Note passin'"... hilarious) to do a lil' something. I've never been "tagged" before, but I can give y'all seven random things.

01. I once shaved my head partly because I wanted a guy to stop flirting with me. It worked.

02. I LOVE fat free fig newtons.

03. If I'd attended a middle school like the one I currently work in, I wouldn't have survived the bullying. I'm sure I would've tried to kill myself.

04. I was once held hostage, at gunpoint, along with my kindergarten classmates, by a student's crazy stepfather.

05. My movie star crush:

photo credit: Jorge Bispo

06. One of the biggest turn-ons of my life was watching my love play fight with the instructor at the capoeira class last weekend. Tall, sweaty, shirtless, muscular black men in a roda? God is good.

07. I want to take a day off to just sleep in.

Okay. So that's that. I am tagging anyone who feels like sharing. Have a lovely night.

Hello, December

2008-12-01T19:23:00.007-05:00

My riches consist not in the extent of my possessions, but in the fewness of my wants. - J. Brotherton

+ finally learning how to samba
+ the perfect old lady style wool cocoon coat I found (and bought) when I ducked into a store simply to avoid the rain
+ knowing I'll laugh when I pick up Gorilla, My Love and that Janelle Monae's cover of "Smile" is there for me listen to should I start to feel that negativity again
+ my dinner of butternut squash soup garnished with thin apple slices and served with toasted raisin bread spread with ricotta
+ seeing the sexiness in the rises, dips and dimples of my body
+ his love shown in quiet, you'll-miss-it-if-you-blink ways
+ "Y'all can do what eh ver you want after January 23rd." - my principal
+ my students being the sweetest and most patient people on the planet today
+ setting aside the money for the photo-journalism club (coming spring 2009)
+ feeling completely able to handle the workload and stress leading up to the state ELA exam
+ my dad answering the phone with "I love you" - we have come a long, long way
+ not feeling lame for skipping out on Karizma tonight because I would rather lie in bed and read
+ the letter I wrote to myself on FutureMe.org (thanks for the heads up Aichlee!)
+ taking a capoeira class because he wanted me to and tehn really enjoying it, even though now I can't walk, sit, stand, lie down, reach, or laugh without wincing
+ the level of self-sufficiency I feel whenever I improvise in the kitchen

Sunday Shine* { After The Love-In }

2008-11-30T17:00:00.005-05:00

The love-in ended yesterday. He flew back down south last night. I miss him, but was left with a cache of silly jokes and a fridge of leftovers from the delicious meals we ate together. These are the stories I'm telling my grandkids. Baby, your grandmama was in love! One could say we are back together. It doesn't matter though what our re-connection is called, as long as it's healthy and feels amazing, which it does.

The writer of one of my favorite blogs ends each of her posts with "AT THIS MOMENT, I am free and LOVE." Those words some up every second of my weekend.

2008-11-28T13:27:00.004-05:00

I've spent the last day and a half posted up in a bedroom playing girlfriend/private dancer/not-so-secret lover (sorry neighbors but the man's loving is better than good). The ex (aka the on-again?) is home for the break and we had been connected at the [yup] from the time I met him at LaGuardia until a few hours ago, when I had to go to Target to get a slow cooker for $15.

I spent yesterday with his fam. The food was a non-issue, which I'm glad about. I stuffed myself with starchy foods and got drunk off some Greek honey wine. His grandma is hilarious, his god son is the cutest kid in the world after my nephew, and his mom is gracious and mellow. She made a little curry veggie dish for me. He and I ate and talked and then retreated back into bed.

Conversations in the dark drew forth some secrets, things I couldn't find the words for but didn't wanna hold onto anymore.

Honestly, I don't think straight, I lose sense of time, forget the things I'm supposed to do, can't hear my phone... and nothing matters but me and him.

I'll see him again in a couple hours and it'll be just us until he flies back tomorrow evening.

Thanks

2008-11-26T16:56:00.003-05:00

I'm a little disappointed about not being with my fam tomorrow. This year my mom's cooking and my sister's gonna be there with her babies. I also like cooking for my family. Everyone's so appreciative and I get to use my best improvisational skills in the kitchen.
I'm having dinner with dude's family tomorrow evening, which will be interesting for a bunch of reasons. They like to talk shit, so I'm nervous as hell. I have no idea what's going to be served. I offered to make something until I found out about a long list of things his family doesn't eat, not due to allergies or bad past experiences, but because they "just don't."

I'm thankful, though, that I won't be alone. Thankful he'll be around for a few days. And super relieved to have some time off work and I made sure everything I needed to do was taken care of yesterday.

I was told many airlines would be offering some very discounted tickets on Friday, so I'll be online in the middle of the night - I'm trying to be somewhere tropical and foreign for the New Year.

The Way That I Live

2008-11-25T20:01:00.007-05:00

Can't lose me so I can meet you
There's only one way and I gotta prove
to me, not to you...

You know when a song comes along and you say to yourself "This is what I was waiting for."
Yeah, that's this song for me.
I've been listening to this on repeat every day since it dropped.
And of course the beat is delicious.

"The Way I Live" - (the most brilliant producer ever) Madlib featuring (the lovely and crazy talented) Stacy Epps

These two keep making beautiful, beautiful things.

I Think I Got The Same Grade in High School

2008-11-25T19:26:00.003-05:00

I got a 72.73 % on my Civic Literacy Quiz, with no prepping whatsoever, which is cool because I felt quite ignorant while taking the quiz. I did surprisingly well on the topics government money. Guess I know a thing or two. Really I do just know a few important concepts when you consider the amount of topics that are under the umbrella of civics. But the past year forced me to learn more. I don't feel as intimidated by the ideas, finally don't walk away from conversations with my father about our economy.

An Argument For Letting It Be

2008-11-24T19:25:00.006-05:00

So my friends have been raising their eyebrows at me because I haven't talked about It with dude.
It = the expectations and limitations of my relationship with him.
I tell them what we do:
We bestow each other with sweet and simple, heartfelt actions and words.
We casually mention us in future tense.
We only reference the past to laugh about a good time.
I fall asleep happy I have him in my life, nothing more or less.

This is why I'm not feeling compelled to have a discussion about our "status."
Are we "back together"? I don't know. Were we ever together? Is it gonna last? I'd like it to but if it doesn't, I want as many good memories as possible.

Maybe everything that happened from June to December, then from March to May was prep work. We know each other well. We've both realized his "I'm not happy"s weren't about me. I always knew my "I want more"s weren't about him. It was never about not liking who the other person was. The issues had to do with readiness, self-confidence, acceptance.

Truthfully, we have more of a partnership now than we ever did when we were calling ourselves a couple. Why dissect it and stuff it with definitions? Labels don't seem to serve any other purpose than to set a foundation for expectations and rules.

It's not that I'm not about having expectations. When I was kickin it with dude who lived right around the corner, expectations were still clear.
It's not that I'm not about having rules. Decisions are easier to make when you know what will and won't be tolerated.

When I'm with him, I don't feel as if I'm avoiding the topic. Frankly, when we're together, it doesn't come to my mind at all. When I'm with him, I'm caught up in our exchange, the eye contact and touches and words and silences and laughs and funny looks.
I think, in general, we spend far too much time talking about the relationship instead of being present in them. I think about my past experiences... blahblahblahing away. I think about one friend who has spent more time telling me about a dude than actually hanging out with him. What is that? My intuition is guiding me to just let it be, set aside whatever meaning I've given it for the time being and enjoy what he brings into my life.

Sunday Shine { Two Weeks Past }

2008-11-23T21:12:00.005-05:00

good music
good jokes
good students
good news
good nights sleep
good memories
good sex
good food
good outcomes
good intentions
good love
good love
good love
good love
good love (still squeezing tight)
good love
good love
good love

2008-11-17T23:52:00.008-05:00

clam / trace / kara / popafricana

dreamweavings.
now I can sleep.

2008-11-17T23:40:00.002-05:00

The first thing to be said about color is that clashing colors do not exist. The whole idea of certain colors conflicting violently with others was nonsense dreamed up by a lot of genteel women in the 1930s. Colors do not clash, they vibrate... So do not be afraid to use color freely. Have courage. As with drawing, painting, acting or any creative activity, you must attack with strength.

- designer David Hicks

2008-11-17T19:22:00.004-05:00

~~Trying to~~ Gonna Get Done Before Jan 1st:

bake bread
buy polaroid film in bulk
paint my bedroom
host a party
call my grandpa
write twenty love poems
daily chandra namaskar/surya namaskar

and
make a baby! yes! no...? maybe. we'll see...

2008-11-17T19:07:00.003-05:00

My dream bag (yes, C, that is it on the left) is on its way.
Many thanks to my friends who keep me in their thoughts when they hit up the consignment shops out of town.

2008-11-17T19:03:00.003-05:00

It's funny how things work out. A few weeks ago, I had to miss a mandatory training for an after school job I wanted, so I pulled my application out of the pile. Well today the man that runs the program was visiting the middle school; he gave me his card, and told me to shoot him an email if I was still interested. Done. The job is challenging, the hours are long, but it's one of those gigs that actually forces you to get your shit together/looks real cozy on your resume/pays well.

Sunday Shine* { Gonna Be All Right }

2008-11-16T08:36:00.006-05:00

Things have been nasty and negative at work all week. It all started when.... I finally brought up, at a meeting, the fact that the guidance counselor has never seen any of the special needs students for their counseling sessions. She tried to say that she had, but had no proof of this, nobody could back her up, and each student told me she'd never had a session with them. Some had no idea she was the guidance counselor. She even stormed into my room to imply that the students and para-educators were lying. That was two Fridays ago. Her bad energy (aka guilty conscience) spilled over into last week, the principal became involved, things just weren't right. All that on top of the enormous pressures that build up in the ELA department two months before the state exam.
Those old feelings of wanting to quit on the spot started creeping in, so I had to remind myself of everything and everyone that's been making me feel better:

- My students. We fight, we love. It has never been clearer to me that I do it for them. I think our classroom has become a space for learning people skills and building relationships, we keep each other in check.
-Sleep. I come home drained, I'm too tired to make dinner and one time I tried to order in, but fell asleep before it even got here. I needed to catch up and I'm glad I did, but I do owe some folks an apology for not showing up or calling or answering the door when I said I would.
- Whenever I wanna talk shit, but don't feel like spreading the negativity, I just listen to Marlena Shaw. She reminds me of one of my closest friends, Luz. Nasty hilarious.
- The rain. It brought some much needed calmness to the classroom Thursday and Friday and kept my Saturday simple and quiet.
- Chocolate. I'm in my red tent right now, and I snuck in a snack.

I Only Like Shopping When It's Raining & The Stores Are Empty

2008-11-15T20:05:00.007-05:00

Um. There are a million things to share, but I've spent a good part of my day on the phone and I'm all done with sharing. But I can show you the goodness I bought today at Sweet Tater.

Yeah man, duck hunter pockets and all.

And I think I will be going back for this one soon:

Sash? Pockets? Mine.

In regards to clothing, I've learned that I am a neutral girl. I like natural fabrics that are the color of rocks and grains and dirt. I like my clothes to drape and billow. I'm partial to gold jewelry and brown shoes. And even though it took me a minute to hop back on the black tights wagon (clarification: I was on it with my friend Jess long, long ago) once I did it was like I'd found my long lost best friend. I'm still waiting for the day cold enough for me to wear my silky cashmere leggings.

Letting It All Sink In

2008-11-11T18:14:00.003-05:00

little man @ 0:53.... aw!

loving the lingering celebratory mood
but there's plenty work (for us all) to do.

2008-11-11T08:47:00.003-05:00

It's been one of those weeks where I've just found myself going full speed, pummeling forward, having head-on collisions with anyone that tries to cut me off.
It took the rains of Saturday to slow me down, and the surprise arrival of that man (First & Former Love) to bring me to a halt.

What's the point of being vague on a blog? Eh, I don't know. But somethings I gotta keep for myself. I try to tell the stories but they don't wanna come out (or maybe they don't wanna come here).

So, I'll leave with this one word exercise:

Yourself: reluctant
Your partner: undecided
Your hair: unbending
Your mother: compassionate
Your father: spirited
Your favorite item: pretty
Your dream last night: telling
Your favorite drink: fizzy
Your dream home: open
The room you are in: appreciated
Your fear: insignificance
Where you want to be in 10 years?: parenting
Who you hung out with last night: myself
What you're not: powerless
Your best friend: several
One of your wish list items: ring
Your gender: creating
The last thing you did: chewed
What you are wearing: comfortable
Your favorite weather: balmy
Your favorite book?: Liliane
Last thing you ate?: nutritious
Your life: healthy
Your mood: pacified
The last person you talked to on the phone: busy
Who are you thinking about right now?: sleep

Yes! Yes! Yes!

2008-11-05T14:50:00.010-05:00

There is no other place I would rather be today.
There is no other life I would rather be living and no other history I would rather call my own today.

It is a blessing to be living here now. I feel nothing but sheer joy! Yes!

I have never felt the unity that surged within me when I looked at TV screen and they showed his grandmother rejoicing in Kenya - when was the last time the world celebrated an American election?
And all the people, who envisioned this day decades, centuries ago...
And watching Rev. Jesse Jackson weeping....
And having friends and strangers hold me up and embrace me when I was too shocked to stand up and my heart was releasing that heaviness...
And my to my fellow Floridians who came through! Yes!

Seven years ago, I stood on the corner of Dekalb and South Elliot, crying on the shoulders of a woman I didn't know and feeling absolutely terrified and helpless. This morning, an older woman and I nodded and smiled at each other, and then I just started tearing up again. She held my hand on the train to work this morning, as I cried some more. My students greeted me with more smiles and cheers and hugs and stories of they rejoiced with their families. "I couldn't wait to see you today Miss B!" It was an honor to be their teacher today and watch them feel triumphant... Yes!

Today is a defining moment in so many lives. It's the sweetest*, most delicious day and it's been a long, long, long time comin'. Yes! Yes! Yes!

*I know it's bittersweet in Cali, though. I can't believe that horrible Prop 8 passed, just can't believe it.

And I'll Be Here....

2008-11-04T15:54:00.004-05:00

Though I'm sure I'll have to leave before ?uest arrives.

I'm Ready

2008-11-03T19:28:00.011-05:00

to take part
to take pride
to expel the total despair
to know we have a fighting chance
to thank The People
to start somewhere
to be ready
to be cautious but not fearful
to honor those who helped bring us the waiting line
to befriend those who wait with me
to finally be done with the wait
to do my grandma proud
to say it happened in my lifetime
to see it happen while they're still babies
to welcome a good example
to shake my head in sheer amazement
to smile
to cry
to cry
to cry
and then laugh, laugh, laugh

y'all ready?

Sunday Shine* { 12-Piece Fried Heart }

2008-11-02T07:01:00.006-05:00

Last weekend, this man flew me down South to spend two days with him. We'd been talking on the phone a few days earlier and out of the blue he says, "If I bought you a ticket, would you come down for the weekend?" I said yes before I could (over)think about it. It started off rocky (my flight got in late, he overslept, I sat in the airport for hours thinking the worst things), but as soon as I saw him the fear and anger just left me.
I slept in his arms. After two weeks of recurring nightmares, I slept real good in those arms. We actually spent most of our time in (the softest) bed.
"he tells me all his secrets, he thinks nobody knows,
we lay together in daylight, I love him so"
We managed to steal a few moments to get in his car and drive out to the country. I kept my hand in his for those two days. We kissed and laughed a lot, ate really good food, kissed and laughed some more. And then I had to come back to New York.

I don't know what it all means. I do know that the time I spent with him was so deliciously warm and happy. Maybe the real purpose of the trip was for us to be loved and to love. We let our attraction for each other do what it do, no questions asked, none needed. I did think to myself a few times this is what I wanted for us when we were together. I thought maybe we should be back together. I'd like that. But it doesn't really matter what I'd like to happen, and regardless of what does happen, my two days with him were perfect.

Soon, So Soon

2008-10-29T20:10:00.007-04:00

Since last week, I've been bustling and bumbling over the elections at work. For homework, I've asked my students to read these handouts with their parents so that they don't get screwed at the voting sites on November 4th. I told them to record their impressions of tonight's Obama Special. We've been using whole class periods to view photographs of Barack because the images ignite such a lively discussion amongst them and their curiosities and observations about him deserve to be heard and acknowledged. The same child who had no idea Hillary was no longer in the race told me she felt Obama would treat her like his own daughter if elected president because of how much he talks about his own daughters and his wife. (Maybe all the lights aren't on, but the ones that are shine brightly.) I got misty-eyed and choked up when I was telling them that when I was their age, I would never have thought I'd have the chance to vote in an election in which all the candidates weren't white men. First, the babies looked at me like I was just pitiful, and then started saying, "I wish I could vote in this election!" I wish my grandma was around to see it. My grandfather, 85 years old and in deteriorating physical condition, is voting early. I wish I could go with him to the polls. I wish my grandmother were alive for this. Maybe in my lifetime, there will be a ballot than spans a multitude of races, genders, sexual orientations and creeds.
It's been such a show, such a flippin' production, these last two years. I think back to when Obama first announced he was running, I was so skeptical and disbelieving of this man and his campaign and his capabilities. Like many, I came around in early 2007, not so much because of Barack himself, but because I couldn't ignore the disgust and sickness I felt when I thought of our current administration. As a teacher who learns every day just how much the system is in need of repair, and as a woman who wants a family and a home sooner rather than later, I had to finally start thinking beyond the next few days. Barack's plans seemed more viable than any other candidate's. Then Michelle became increasingly visible and vocal, and it was a wrap. Some of my skepticism will forever remain; he is, after all, a politician. But I think he has run an almost flawless campaign.
Less than a week, my goodness. I'm not looking forward to the long lines that await me, and I'm hoping it's not too cold or too rainy, or that my name hasn't mysteriously disappeared from the rosters. But I'm ridiculously excited. I am not taking anything for granted and I really hope other supporters/voters aren't either.
I told my students and the principal that on November 5th, should Barack win or lose, I will not be able to teach. I will either be crying tears of joy or tears of rage, but either way I will be hysterical.
One student asked, "If he wins, can we have a party, Miss B?" What else could we do?

Stars. Hearts. Freedom.

2008-10-22T22:35:00.007-04:00

By now, I am sure you have seen the photograph (from the series "Service" by Platon). Elsheba Khan is enveloping the gravestone of her son, Kareem. The photo has been appearing all over since Colin Powell mentioned it during his endorsement of Barack Obama.

I haven't listened to Powell's endorsement. It doesn't much matter to me. I do keep returning to the photograph, however. I've studied it about 3 times now. Every time I look at it, every part of it becomes more achingly beautiful. I really don't want it to make me cry, so I pull my eyes away from her face and hands and let my thoughts draw out all kinds of meaning - a mother embracing always, the bursting roses, '87-'07 (just a baby), and all the words underneath her - the words outline his faith and his service to both Islam and the United States, yet people continue to debate if the two can co-exist.

We, the people, need help.

Two Poems Before I Try To Go To Sleep

2008-10-20T22:49:00.009-04:00

A Question After Prayer
for I am not gon' say but I won't be surprised if we make a baby

Should I have taken you
a long time ago
Mister Green Love for All (insha'allah)
how many times over how many years
have we laid in a bed
you whisper proposals
to my thighs
you make promises to the arch of my back
ask me to consider faith
in exchange for the way you get
when I am naked

I cannot always be naked though

used to think I
don't fight wild enough
don't stank up my face in public
don't get all up in the videos
don't move with the shakers
only to find out I did
right to stay quiet and come alone

and I do move

now you are getting older
my womb is getting restless
winter waits around the corner
and I'd like
to take my Revolution
spinning A Milli
between Fajr and Dhuhr
green in all but his eyes
which don't let me get away with a thing
and this loving
manifesting in how many ways over how many years

Things I Want To Give To You
for my darling 6th, 7th and 8th grade babies

give you your voice
and stop asking you for it
give you a microphone
and a video camera
your own spot on the FM dial
give you you
and the space where no one
will tell you to be quiet
you will know you can speak any time
and with your breath
words
the rawest ripest sounds
to ever flow out your mouth
how many griots and sages sit before me
eyes rollin at me
still I love you
here are things I want to give to you

The New Girl

2008-10-20T20:31:00.007-04:00

So, every now and then, a new student arrives at The Middle School. They usually go unnoticed by me unless they've been placed in one of the special education classes. I only teach the students in these classes. I only know the general education students due to after school programs, conflicts with special needs students, or gossip. Almost every day I'll see an eighth student that I swear is new, only to find out he or she's been at the school since sixth grade.

But the newest addition to the student population is very noticeable. She sticks out because she's Asian. We have an Asian student! (Truthfully, that's what I thought to myself when I saw her). Her parents have moved to the gentrifying area of Bed Stuy. They are an older, interracial couple, Asian woman and her European-American husband, and instead of shipping their daughter off to one of the schools in Brooklyn Heights or Manhattan (maybe it was too late, no room on the waiting list, I don't know?) or shelling out the money for a private education, they've enrolled her in The Middle School (which may be because it received a A on its 2007-08 report card. Don't ask.)
I was delighted when I first saw her. Finally! We're, uh, diversifying! She gets to hang out with Black Kids and they get to hang out with Asian Girl*. Middle school is hellish but... maybe there will be an opportunity for more cultural exchanges and deconstructing stereotypes. Maybe some students will stop referring to every Asian person as "a Chinese." They finally learned to not call every Spanish-speaking person "a Mexican."
A teacher can dream, no?
I've watched the kids interact during lunch. She sits with my favorites, quirky girls who have managed to stay sane in the midst of extreme bullying, hormonal changes and ongoing oppression from the adults. I've asked teachers what the dynamics of class have been like since she arrived. No reports of slurs or offensive gestures on either end. No tears or snickering. Instead, I get "And she's making friends quickly."
Lovely, right? Here's the thing...
After school, I overheard one of the teachers saying she was going to tell the girl's parents to "get her out of here" because "our kids will set such a bad example for her." I immediately objected to this. Saying something along the lines of it being great that she's at The Middle School because young people need exposure, our school is disproportionately** Black, let us be careful not to put Asian Girl on a pedestal in the exoticized/model minority trap. The teacher started yelling over me, "In her culture, their kids obey. They respect adults. She doesn't need to be around our kids. They're too nasty for her. She's so sweet. She needs to be in one of those schools in Park Slope."
There was so much wrong here.
1. "Our" kids? Why can't she just say what she means? Black kids.
2. Where was this concern before the arrival of this student? "Our kids" can suffer bullying and disrespect but not "their kids"?
3. How does this teacher not realize she is valuing one child over the others? Or does she just not care? Is this one of those internalized racism moments?
4. Not all of our kids are bad examples. Most of them aren't. And the ones that are can't be blamed.
5. Has this teacher hung out in Park Slope on a weekend and heard how those kids speak to adults? I'll take my little Bed Stuy babies over them any day.
6. If this child wasn't Asian, or was from a single parent or working class home, or was drawn to the bad examples, or could catch an attitude with the best of them, would this teacher still feel like she needed to get out of The Middle School asap? I've yet to meet a single NYC middle school teacher whose school is free of rude adolescents. They're everywhere.

I don't mean to make light of being the only child of your race in your school. I was the only Black child in my school for a long time. What if I had teachers who said,"She's Black. In her culture, their children are all fucked up. She needs to be in one of those Liberty City schools." (You know what? I probably did. But at least they didn't say that shit to my parents. Eventually, I did ask to go to a school with Black kids but even then, my parents didn't stick me any old place. Social capital.) I know babygirl's gon' be alright. Shit, she's making friends with the Black kids faster than I ever did. And who knows, it's only been a couple weeks, maybe she'll curse a teacher out before Thanksgiving. And maybe she won't. All I know is that the kids have shown us once again that the superficial shit doesn't need to matter all. the. time. When I see Asian Girl and Black Girl bouncing down the hallway, arms linked, giggling on their way to lunch, I think it's a wonderful thing for The Middle School.

*I wrote "Asian Girl" here because the adults in my school, myself included, immediately constructed assumptions about her based solely on her ethnicity. It was all we were seeing (maybe still are seeing?), and the only thing we were using to determine what her experience might be like. We don't reduce our other new students down to their Blackness. It's just a way to highlight how much of our reactions and expectations rest on this single part of her identity.
** Okay, so it's not. The population of Black students in the school reflects the numbers representing the neighborhood. I use the word "disproportionately" because in an urban setting it is sad to see schools remain so segregated. Maybe I'm just complaining because I had it differently and think its to the benefit of everyone to have a good mix. The middle schools and high school I went to were magnet schools, and applied the 30/30/30 rule to the student population.

Another Day Off

2008-10-13T19:37:00.004-04:00

Would you believe me if I told you I didn't spend any money, not a single penny, on Friday, Saturday or Sunday? No? I wouldn't believe me either, but it's true. Challenging, yes, but it helps when I love my apartment.

I ended all that today with a trip to Trader Joe's at 9 this morning.
$70 =

two cartons of almond milk, organic cage-free eggs, smoked salmon, fresh salmon, feta, olive oil, grapefruit juice, sparkling water, four apples, broccoli, baby spinach, organic baby lettuce, bell peppers, organic raspberries, grapes, splendido tomatoes, organic bananas, sea salt brownies (which are too delicious), fresh oregano, sprouted pasta, muffins, soy breakfast patties, dried cranberries, and some oxo brite.
I am envious of anyone who can shop at TJ's before 11 am on a weekday. No lines, everything is in stock.

Anyway, I'm thankful the weather was nice, I spent a little time with some friends, a little time with my lover, and a lot of time with myself.

Good Morning

2008-10-13T05:38:00.007-04:00

I prefer him Sunday nights. He hasn't been drinking, no paka lolo in his lap. He is sleepy, not bothered by how early he has to wake up. This is when his wisdom shines, when he doesn't curse so much, and his laughter comes from his heart. On Sunday nights, I don't care that he is much older than me, was on his own while I was in middle school. He lies on his back and tells jokes, the languages he brought from St. Lucia and Panama and O'ahu fall out of his mouth in tandem and it all makes sense. He is still playful, but he's gentler with me, more available, he holds me, lets me know he likes me in some kind of way. I study him long after he's fallen asleep. Good Lord... I stay the night, leave with him early in the morning, admiring how quiet and dark it still is outside. People say "Good morning" at 5 a.m..

2008-10-11T08:59:00.002-04:00

The Day Off

2008-10-10T00:52:00.004-04:00

A slow rise Thursday morning. Reading, bathing in warm water, lavender oil and mint tea (yeah, that is how I do), taking my time finishing off my raisin bran and raspberries.

I'm seeking art, inspiration, a better idea of the community and if there's space for me. (There is, if I want it.)

The grey in the sky turned to you-can-do-anything blue.

I've been thinking that it would be important to come to some sort of resolve about how I love and who I love and what I love, how I create and what I create out of this love. Happiness will enter and leave and enter and leave again. But giving and receiving love can be an endless action. So this is what I'm working with. And on, and for.

But I worry, how do I lovingly speak to some about their ignorance? I'm not talking about syrupy sweet words and smiles. I mean how do I say, with loving intentions, don't touch me uninvited or call me out my name or give me a box to squeeze into but get mad when I don't fit?

I went to Mike's studio to see the photographs he took of me. I really like them. He cleaned up some of my scars, but not too much, as they are very much a part of how I choose to be perceived, I told him.

I bought a journal, two pairs of sparkling earrings, a shrimp burrito. Then rode the train uptown with M to listen to Kehinde Wiley speak about his art at the Studio Museum. Thelma Golden is sweeter than I imagined her to be. I discovered a lot of what Kehinde said matched the conclusions I'd drawn about his work on my own. I've been adoring his paintings for three years, but I especially love the portraits he did for "World Stage: Africa, Lagos ~ Dakar", and look forward to what he brings out of Brasil and Ethiopia and Israel.
Such knotty perceptions of skin and gender. Who would we be untangled?

?uest insists that "something has got to give" (via Racialicious), but I wonder who should be deciding what will give and when? When will the perceptions we don't own ourselves matter much, much less?

It makes sense that M and I ended our day off work walking out of a spot because the "entertainer" on stage begin to project his boring, foolish ideas about skin color and black hair and women in general onto the audience.

born in babylon both nonwhite and woman/what did i see to be except myself? - L. Clifton (thanks, Njoroge)

There are some ideas in my mind, every day they get a little more solid and I get a clearer vision of how to make them tangible. I know what's going on the walls, in the frames, and on the body, (and in it!), but I'm still not too sure about what's going on the page - and right now, that's what I'm most interested in.
But it'll come.

I won't list resolutions here, but I should say I'm finally on my way.

Leave It All Behind

2008-10-07T17:54:00.012-04:00

Leave It All Behind is out and it is lovely.
Looking forward to really sitting with this. Reading, drinking tea, writing, daydreaming, making love as this plays.

Also... Happy Birthday, peace and many thanks to Imamu Amiri Baraka, who intimidated and enlightened me as I listened to a conversation he had with my mentor, inspiration and teacher, Sekou Sundiata, many years ago.

"A man is either free or he is not. There cannot be any apprenticeship for freedom."

Sunday Shine* { Good Company }

2008-10-05T09:25:00.007-04:00

Went to First Saturday last night with R.
She offers such a brash perspective on things. I like that she doesn't have time for excuses, hers or anyone else's.
We grabbed wine, hid it under our scarves as we toured the galleries. I only wanted to see "A Little Taste Outside of Love" (my new favorite piece by Mickalene Thomas, which really needs to be seen in person, because you must see it in its true proportions to absorb all the gloss and rhinestone fabulousness), but R hadn't been to the museum "in forever", so we saw every single thing. Wine will change the point of view real quick. I found myself becoming very impatient with a lot of the pieces. R was even worse than I was, berating the curator's tastes, slapping my ass for not agreeing with her, and being deliciously obnoxious. Then we went downstairs and danced to the Spice Girls until it was time to sit down with a drink and act like adults again. Sometimes I get a glimpse of a friend (or myself) as an older woman and it's hilarious.

Also:
This evening, if you are reading this and you live in Brooklyn and especially if you are in the mood to be supportive, loving, sisterly, inspired, motivated, reminded of your beauty, then you should attend:

This Isn't A Teaching Blog

2008-10-05T09:04:00.001-04:00

So, I was checking the stats for this blog and I noticed quite a few folks have gotten here from a link on gothamschools.org. How lovely to be a part of their blog roll of NYC educators, but it got me thinking about the intentions I had when I started this blog, and about the people that read it. Who is clicking the link (and they've been clicking...) and what are they expecting to read when they arrive?

I'm a teacher, but this isn't a teaching blog.
I chose this profession when I was very young. Being a teacher has been at the front of my mind for many, many, many years, and my ideas of what it means to be a teacher have been shaped by every other identity I can think of. The lines between Black woman/suburban 80's baby/lover/Brooklyn resident/writer/daughter/public school teacher don't exist here and I'd be doing myself a disservice to even attempt to write away an identity. I'd like to be able to write, concretely or evasively, about my skin and my vagina and my job without worry.
It's my hope that people read everything here, but especially the entries that are about teaching, knowing this much.

Something Is Happening

2008-10-03T00:04:00.007-04:00

The stars have realigned themselves. The hurricanes blew something into the air. The equinox. My spine has shifted. And I started believing in the only thing I can prove.

A period of total sadness then a period of release followed by a period of inquiry and cleansing, and now I am at love. I stand before it, climb on it, push it onto whoever stands before me and asks me for anything. All I have is love to give. It's funny that when all you have is love to give, all you receive is love. I see its nuances reflected in every single action.

I am superstitious so I keep my worries unwritten. But I feel like most of my questions have been answered; I've got an abundance of fulfilled wishes and a satisfied curiosity. Retrograde doesn't frighten me at all - because I feel more grounded and real and accessible and shameless than I ever have, and I sit comfortably with my intuition, a great long term memory and the knowledge that nature abhors a vacuum. To all my friends who promised me it would get better: I love you.

2008-10-01T12:26:00.008-04:00

There's only one more thing I want to do in 2008

and that's make love while listening to
the new Foreign Exchange album.

Before the Dance

2008-09-30T14:58:00.002-04:00

High Gets Higher

2008-09-30T08:15:00.006-04:00

I'd been having a hard time conjuring up the words to explain whatever it was that was happening over the last week or so. I tried many times to force something out, put my faith in the first words that came to mind, but I couldn't. Before I know it, I had about a dozen attempts... here they all are, compiled in no kind of special order, and still as elusive as ever.

---

Student 1: I don't have friends, I have associates.
Student 2: But you wanna go out with her now.
Student 1: So?
Student 2: Say you two started going out. You'd have a girl who is also your friend.
Student 1: Nah, she won't be my girlfriend. She'd be my girl.

---

The language we use has lost meaning. Or maybe it's just always been restricted by our inability to say exactly what we want, who we are, what we're doing. Are we lovers or jump-offs? Have we been in a long-term "open relationship" or just been booty calls for the last four years? Sexual encounters no longer stand alone, too much is being confessed in between. I try not to read into the time that has passed, but I can't help seeing something important in what we say now compared to what we said then.

---

give me man cool to curl up with watch the fall and note how the mind isn't too far off cook breakfast simple something with blueberries make him think twice about leaving first thing keep sheets warm instead kiss that mole inside the right leg after the last bite lick as i talk about yesterday's lessons how the kids ain't learning a thing hope ours won't be like that go silent and let imaginations conjure up each other as parents i want to be the woman in the photograph embracing her man and her child her manifestation of love proudly on display on the mantle next to a plate of sage snap back into the moment i might always blush when i share my poems with lovers fucking is just the title the verses are in the right before and the just after

---

Up front by the speakers, my shoes come off and I make a quick wish for no broken glass. I just have to wait for the rhythm to fill me up. I start to feel stronger. That's what I like, when I start to feel like a twist of my hips could possibly be the beginning of world peace. I know it sounds silly, but I have thought it a revolutionary act to lose oneself in a song (thank you C, many, many times over, thank you). When it happens to me, I look slightly drunk and off-beat. I look a mess. But if you watch long enough, you will understand something about me, why I stay in a constant state of motion. I'm set on recreating these moments in all spaces, as I cook and write and teach and fuck. It's the closest thing I've got to ritual and religion.
The other night, I caught this man watching me. I usually ignore whatever audience I have, close my eyes, do me. But I liked how he was watching, and he was alone, and handsome, so I moved right in front of him, which made us both smile. Don't know how many songs I danced through before I stopped to rest. He complimented me afterward, genuine appreciation and you know it made me feel absolutely beautiful.

---

I am in the midst of getting to know another man. The only expectation we have is to not have any. If we never hung out again, there'd be no broken bits of me to pick up. A relief or a shame, I don't know. But it is evidence I've learned some lessons.

(A Belated) Sunday Shine* { Looksee }

2008-09-29T19:22:00.011-04:00

A lot of love and admiration felt throughout the last week...I still need to sit with it. I returned to my little spot Saturday night to dance away from everyone, ease my mind, be anonymous to everyone except the deejay. Spent the hours just before dawn watching Kill The Messenger with L, laughing myself into unconsciousness. Woke up naked, funky, with him wrapped awkwardly around me, not needing anything at all except my own space, so I went home.
Sunday's a secret.
Today went by quickly and I have the next two days off and a long to-do list awaits.

iris for the weekend

love in Harlem

my tribute to summer

What I Did During The ELA Dept Meeting #2

2008-09-29T17:57:00.002-04:00

I read to my heart's content.

Tolerated Violence

2008-09-27T16:28:00.006-04:00

It doesn't matter who we are or even what we look like, we get harassed on the regular. Like one interviewee said, "It's like breakfast." Verbal or nonverbal, from one man or from a group of men, on Franklin or 5th Ave, don't matter if he calls me "shorty" "ma" or even "queen"... harassment is what I must consider/prepare for/shield myself against whenever I descend from the stoop onto the sidewalk. Why am I scoping out the corners from my apartment window? I cross the street how many times just on a quick errand? And why do I get it from fucking police officers?
Ladies, how many times has your arm been grabbed by a complete stranger who refuses to let go until you give him your name, your number? The first time it happened to me I was 15 and almost certain it would be the last time. But I've since lost count of how many times I've experienced that. And I always tell myself if it happens again, I'm going buckwild, screaming, kicking, spitting, leaving the offender silenced, terrified, unable to ever forget how I feel about his words. But it does happen again. And all I can think about is a fist to my face, a razor to my neck, a gun... even when I roll my eyes, suck my teeth, screw up my face, I feel like I'm taking a risk.
I keep my focus, pretend like I didn't even hear them in the first place.
I keep my focus, pretend like I didn't even hear them in the first place.
I keep my focus and pretend.

Friday Freewrites

2008-09-26T12:09:00.006-04:00

Woke up this morning, congested and in no mood to rush to work. But it was Friday so I didn't worry about the day feeling too long and I didn't have to think about getting materials together because...

Friday is Friday Freewrite Day in my classroom!

Last year, I struggled with getting my students to write without reservation in their journals. The prompts were usually about something we'd been discussing or reading in class (not my idea, as I like to think of journaling as a means to "escape"). I'd get so frustrated and could only imagine how my students felt. Journal writing was hands-down my favorite thing to do in school and I really held myself to the task of never letting my pen stop moving.
I hold my students to this same challenge every Friday. Since I only see each class for a single period of Fridays, I let them use the 45-minute block to write for 20 minutes and use the last 15 minutes to listen to the writing of some of their classmates. A simple unoriginal idea that has altered the attitude towards journal writing and positively changed the mood of Fridays in my classroom.

They come into classroom, the “materials manager” hands out their journals and they all record the date and time. Then I come around with a bin full of about 65 cards, each with a different writing prompt. They can choose any card they want – and this is why it works. This is the onlyreason why it works. After they’ve all done this, I set the timer, turn on the music (each class has it’s own preferences; usually it’s the “All Stevie” station on AOL Music Radio for the 8th graders, Native Tongues inspired hip hop for the 7th graders and Brasilian or West African music for the 6th graders), and we all write.

Even though the *cough*”coach”*cough* has a problem with it (big surprise), she hasn’t been able to articulate what the problem is exactly (shocking...) or offer an equally effective alternative (...). I just want my students to become comfortable telling their stories, I want written self-expression to become second nature. Those who have a hard time coming up with an idea are guided by the cards, those who have no problem, tend to write whatever their thoughts lead them to.
They zone out. Really, they go silent, all hunched over thier desks, making sure their pens don't stop moving until the bell rings. And let me tell you, they get mad when the bell rings.
You have no idea how good it feels to hear a student - who didn't write anything at all last year - say, "Yes, it's Friday Freewrite!" and then show me three pages full of his thoughts twenty minutes later.

I love it because it makes Fridays quiet, mellow, and people leave my class feeling accomplished.

New Season

2008-09-22T17:15:00.011-04:00

I step into autumn with this:

* I need more Saturdays like this past one: an afternoon spent in Red Hook by the river with a novel and my thoughts; a night spent with L, watching Video Music Box, admiring him with my side eye, finding excuses to touch those arms. The man is surprisingly playful, smart as hell and too fine - as his brother warned me, I'm in trouble, but that's alright for now.

*

* I need a green juice fast and yoga because my back's been killing me, I'm bleeding, I've been drinking too much, fucking too much, sleeping too little, not crying enough.

* My womb is healthier than I'd anticipated, so I'm delaying the sonogram/surgery process. Every doctor visit seems invasive and I leave feeling exhausted and on the verge of tears.

* I'm trying to find a way to honor this new kind of love, one I don't think I've received before. The language of it has been at the front of my mind for days, making me smile and scaring me just a little. But I don't know what to say. I just know how it makes me feel.

* I bought two (more) new pairs of shoes: impractical and kinda ugly vs. shiny and kinda sexy.

* I felt my shoulders relax a little bit after a phone call from K, in which he offered a long-delayed, much appreciated apology, then attempted to draw out the conversation. What do you say when you both care deeply, but can finally admit talking makes things worse? The exchange felt like we were playing with like a deflating balloon, both of us tapping it back into the air, but eventually giving up and watching it slowly hit the ground.

* It is nice to have something planned every night this week. I'm most looking forward to seeing Jazmine Sullivan perform Wednesday night and the excuse to dress up on Friday.

Blacklisted

2008-09-18T00:28:00.006-04:00

Just got back from L's place. We watched The Black List, Vol. 1. He told me about it the night I met him and since then it seems everyone else I know has seen it and been moved by it. I don't have a television, let alone cable. L's actually the only person I know in the city that has cable. When he called me tonight, I insisted on seeing it, and told me it was "on demand". So I went over and two hours later I feel reassured, not crazy, enlightened, elated. It was just so rich. It is rare to see people speak honestly about anything anymore on television, prominent figures at that - I think it says a lot about the producers of the film and how they approached their subjects.
All the interviewees were on point. Toni Morrison noted that every Black female writer she has met has been uninterested in the white male [patriarchal system] and has been determined to occupy a space free of that. Suzan-Lori Parks continued this idea by saying that Black women exist on the margins of the margins of the margins. Our space is quite unique, and though it is sometimes hard to realize this, it is also free for us to shape it how we please. I will take that with me.
Lou Gosset Jr. (who schooled me on the history of black theater), Suzan-Lori Parks, Vernon Jordan, Lorna Simpson(!!!), Chris Rock, Susan Rice, even Serena (who spoke about Venus the way I wish/hope all sisters could speak about each other) were all on point. But it was Bill T. Jones* who just about brought me to tears. I wish I could transcribe what he said, etch his words into the walls I pass every day.

The Black List could possibly be an antidote to CNN's "Black In America" crap that had everyone all outraged (for the record: I don't have television precisely because I believe there is very, very little worth watching. Very little. A mainstream news channel depicting an experience that is supposed to represent me to some degree was and never will be something I'm interested in seeing, and quite honestly, I was surprised so many people did watch it. And I was surprised these people were angered by it. What, exactly, were they expecting?).

Candid, vastly different perspectives on being Black, so many entry points, but it all ended up seeming like one single narrative. I'm looking forward to Vol. 2.

*photo from www.greenfield-sanders.com

Daykeeper

2008-09-16T19:50:00.004-04:00

This song has been drifting in and out of my ears since Thursday.

You can download it for free if you like it. Foreign Exchange won't mind.

What I Did During The ELA Dept Meeting

2008-09-14T15:29:00.018-04:00

Maybe it wasn't smart of me to post a photograph of myself because the world is small, people are nosy and, more importantly, eager to start things. But I guess it's no secret that I can't stand ELA department meetings because we never use them to plan anything. I gotta do something to get through 90 minutes of [if I don't have anything nice to say...]

Ten random things about me...
10. I got a lovely manicure this weekend.
9. whenever I eat, I do a little celebratory dance, my way of saying grace
8. My lil' fat booty continues to defy the laws of exercise and healthy diet, but I love it just the same.
7. I spray my pillow and face with chamomile and lavender oil before I sleep.
6. I cry a lot.
5. I spend a great deal of time second guessing my choice of words.
4. I wish more people could see how amazing the moon looks from my kitchen window
3. for the first time, I feel very apprehensive about having a boyfriend. boyfriends break hearts.
2. I love dragonflies.
1. I always have a piece of lint in my fro.

Nine ways to win my heart...
9. be kinda nerdy, a lil' awkward, happily mismatched
8. spend a day in bed with me just being you while I'm being me.
7. take care of your body
5. don't hesitate to educate, set a positive example, or offer meaningful words to children in your community.
4. aspire. have a purpose.
3. speak about the beauty in ordinary or even ugly things.
2. know how to communicate without talking all the damn time (I'm a quiet girl).
1. tell me the truth.

Eight things I want to do before I die...
8. raise a healthy baby.
7. be a Cave Canem fellow.
6. take the time to thoughtfully travel through the continents of Africa and Asia.
5. cultivate a healing garden.
4. shoot and exhibit a photo-documentary.
3. attend a week-long silent retreat
2. create and recite a little prayer/mantra for my own well-being every day.
1. learn how to make my own dresses

Seven ways to annoy me...
7. be a cynic.
6. bump into me and not say "excuse me".
5. be unwilling to hold yourself accountable.
4. criticize me for not being who you want/expect me to be
3. constantly be late.
2. throw your trash on the ground.
1. a tie: tell me lies. or be the *** ***** at my school.

Six things I believe in...
6. music's ability to transform/transcend
5. brooklyn is incestuous
4. sex as a revolutionary act
3. detoxing, fasting and juice cleansing
2. asking the universe for what you need or want
1. karma

Five things I am afraid of...
5. suffering before I die
4. McCain+Palin
3. being raped
2. fire
1. losing my mother

Four of my favorite things...
4. dancing
3. my students' blunt honesty
2. macaroni and cheese (which I miss terribly!)
1. watching fireworks

Three things I do everyday...
3. take a bath.
2. get annoyed by my own self-esteem issues.
1. dance.

Two things I want to do right now...
2. get a full body massage.
1. sleep in.

One person I want to see right now...
1. L.

Sunday Shine* { Bills }

2008-09-14T12:00:00.006-04:00

Wow. I spent $545 this morning paying my bills. This is not a complaint. I'm thankful I can pay all of my bills on time every month. I do not take the bill opening-checking writing moments for granted. Sure I teach because it's fun and it challenges me. But I also teach because I gotta pay my bills. Real talk. It's not a good time to be worrying about money. I can't stand when other teachers insist that a steady check has nothing to do with it. Liars.
There are other benefits too: The cab driver only charged me five dollars for a $16 ride. We talked about being teachers (he was one in St. Thomas before he moved here - he currently directs a youth music program), he gave me a "teacher discount" and a copy of the dub cd he was listening to. He goes on my growing list of wonderful cab drivers that I wish I could call every time I need to get home at 3 in the morning.

It's Saturday

2008-09-13T08:57:00.006-04:00

I must begin by noting that my hair is super soft thanks to the rain and Oyin Handmade.

Still falling into a groove at work, so far, so good. A couple difficult moments with a couple difficult (bullying) kids. Then one student asked me if I ever did drugs and later on, another student saw me buying condoms (in a neighborhood far from the school). Aside from all that, it's been quite nice. The textbooks I ordered finally arrived and they are beautiful! I stayed late every day this week working on the class library. It's dope. I'm calling a parent this afternoon to finalize process of decertifying her child (yay!). He will be the first one to move into general education since I've been at the school.
So I'm good. Folks have been telling my that I'm "radiant". I'm just comfortable at work. Not with all of the policies or practices, but definitely in my classroom with my students.
Last night M and I were talking about how she wants to make a cake for her kids, but fears it might be too early in the year or that it may be frowned upon by administrators. I told her that this year, regardless of what my principal wants, regardless of what the district wants, I will be following my heart in everything I do in my classroom. I told her make the cake if that's what her heart tells her to do. She could bring it in for them to eat as they share their writing or discuss a text. They will be so appreciative that someone took the time to make them something delicious to eat (M is an excellent cook). Ain't nothing wrong with doing something nice for somebody.

As the bullshit will undoubtedly begin at my school next week, I'm mapping out my tried-and-true escape route: books.
My 2008-09 reading list (so far):

Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert (You can say what you want, I can't help but be intrigued by it)
Drown by Junot Diaz (like I admitted a while ago, I never read it. I figure I should get acquainted with it over a long weekend.)
The Train of Salt & Sugar by Licinio de Azevedo (which I can't find anywhere because it's on the Essence Book Club list? *sigh*)
Tears of the Desert: A Memoir of Survival in Darfur by Halima Bashir

Feel free to suggest more.

d'bi

2008-09-11T20:04:00.004-04:00

(much love to susana for givin me one more reason to get out from under the rock/write/be open to people/be unafraid/step my game up/cry)

2008-09-10T18:36:00.004-04:00

The more people I meet, the more I want to take a leap of faith and join a collective, a cooperative of some sort... artists, writers, musicians, actors, playwrights, organizers... maybe the common mission would be reforming education for children of color or promoting the idea of community, love and self-respect. Everyone in a big ol' loft, doin their thing, but the free of any visual distinctions about who owns and creates what. A safe space for youth to drop in after school, a place to hold workshops, a meeting place for community members to continue discourse about whateverwhatever. I know these spaces exist. I'm only now seeing that that may be the kind of space I need. Some place where ideas, feedback and encouragement are easily exchanged.
I'm trying to aid such exchanges at the middle school. There are people I don't work well with, so I'm making an effort to spend more time working with them. I really am trying to be a master teacher. I know it won't happen in 3 years, or 5, or maybe even 10. But if somebody in the building knows something I need to know, I gotta let bridges be built.

Finally, in my third year of teaching, Thursdays and Fridays are easybreezy in terms of my program. Wednesdays have become the hump. I need a drink but I had a strong gin & tonic Tuesday evening and I actually need to break from the alcohol altogether.

Loveless

2008-09-08T22:10:00.005-04:00

This is possibly my favorite Ursula Rucker track. I had no idea there was a video for it though. She makes videos?

A positive but slow day. I remembered there is so much curricula I gotta get out of the way before I can do my stuff. Can't wait til' February. Yeah, I said February. That's when I can break free from the shackles of state exam and units of study I'd rather not teach. Of course, bits and pieces of what I love - Black lit, hip hop, folktales, jazz - trickles into the units developed by the literacy coach, but I'd like to dive into the units I created. I feel when I have that opportunity, I'll finally feel a love for what I do (or finally be assured classroom teaching isn't for me). I'm not looking forward to the "constructive" criticism I'm sure I'll receive from the coach, but I've got two words for her. I'll share them later.

And I just wanted to share this: Yesterday my friend pointed out to me that Cee-lo Green sounds like Nina Simone. He's right!

Sunday Shine * { All Heart }

2008-09-07T16:00:00.005-04:00

Last week was a busy week.

I got to know my new 6th grade students just well enough to see that they will challenge the ways I approach and talk to young people, especially when they aren't acting "right." My newest and youngest students can decode words, comprehend texts and structure their writing at levels much higher than their 7th and 8th grade counterparts. But they are more ~~defiant~~ resistant to routines and don't possess the same upbeat attitudes as my older students. While I pour my energy into finding ways to help my 7th and 8th graders become more fluent readers, I am going to have to find ways to get my 6th graders acclimated to my expectations and standards (stop talking nonsense to each other and speak up, participate in discussion, contribute to the conversation, say something, anything dammit!)
I was delighted to see my 7th graders again. And you know what? They were happy to see me! I love them. They make me laugh. They can do no wrong in my eyes, which causes problems. I had to keep reminding myself that chatting with them about summer, school uniforms, "no homo", being vegetarian, the upcoming elections, Lil' Wayne, and bullying may help build their character and improve their conversation and critical thinking skills, but it will not make them better readers or writers.

*

I tend to keep my mouth shut when speaking on the representation of Black women as images of beauty because the margins are so narrow and there are better things to do than wait around for other people to widen them. But I just got fed up about the Vogue Italia hoopla. I posted a comment at Afrobella, which ended up triggering another post, which is kinda cool.
How we view ourselves has such an immense impact on how we function in this world; we are doing ourselves a major disservice by asking mainstream media to validate our beauty. Fuck that.
I just want us (women of color) to create our own standards. Seeing ourselves as beautiful trumps some Italian editor deciding we're worthy of a cover). We need to speak on it. Not just on blogs or among friends. But all the time. In the street. At the deli. In the park. Wherever. It may seem trivial, but you never know who may need to hear those words or how those words may positively transform someone's self-image.
At the beginning of August, M & I were sitting outside of the Brooklyn Museum of Art watching all the lovely people pass by and we started talking about how we may comment to each other how elegant or fly a woman looks but we rarely share the compliment with that woman. What is preventing us from saying, "You look great" or at least smiling? What are we afraid of exactly? Is it a New York thing? Is it a woman thing? Is it an envy thing? Shit, is it a homophobic thing? Is it just me? I was reminded of this reading a comment on Afrobella a few days ago, and then again yesterday at a restaurant in Harlem. I walked in with a friend and this younger girl comes up to me and says, "I really love your hair like that." I had to ask her if she was talking to me and then I wanted to hug her. Not for the compliment itself, but for her decision to fearlessly compliment another woman. We need more of that.

*

Tonight will be the first night I've spent alone in a week. When it rains, it pours! I was overwhelmed at first, but I decided to enjoy my time (safely, of course) and not spend it obsessing over what's going or not going to happen next. The whole time I've been thinking about the kind of companionship, sex, love and commitments I want and how I'd like it all to intersect in my life. I don't have the words to always explain what I want (though this woman's words have been inspiring) but I can say I'm enjoying myself without shame, fear, confusion or resentment.

*

Lots of people are out there creating lots of pretty things. The gorgeous painting above is by Frida Kamau-Hathorn. It's titled "Spring" and I love it.

Goodbye/Hello

2008-09-01T22:12:00.004-04:00

So tomorrow is it - the first day of school (!!!).
Up until today, I'd felt indifferent about returning to work. But all this anxiety and restlessness has crept up on me since I woke up this morning. I'm not ready but I'm so ready.
Labor Day weekend was full of all the spontaneity and love affairs and scandal that I should've gotten out of the way back in July.
Let's just say these three days have been delicious.
But not without consequence. My head hurts, my nerves are frazzled, my heart is still achy. I love to do things that will never meet the standards I set for myself. I love people that love me back in confusing ways. It's love - it's all love and it's real and that's enough to get me through the next day, but it doesn't always console me.
Anyway, I'm a teacher again. I don't know how I'm gonna fall back into that game, I don't know if I remember all the rules. But give it a month, I'll be playing to win by then.

Affirmatives.

2008-08-28T21:12:00.020-04:00

That is a picture of me. Hi. On Sunday I poured too much wine into my glass but enjoyed my solitude. On Monday I saw my favorite photographer on the train. He kept staring at me. We've met before. He was reading Drown. (Confession: I've never read it.) I felt too shy to even smile. I bought some shoes for less than $100 at DSW. They are dope (first pair second pair). I bought berries and greens at the farmers market. Berries and granola for breakfast. Green juice all day. I was unimpressed with Michelle's speech. On Tuesday I got my HIV test results. So relieved I cried. Yesterday I played a lot of MeShell Ndegeocello and scrubbed every inch of my bathroom. Today I returned to work. Same ol' shit but I have a new classroom with a better view. My haircut was a hit. Looking forward to what this man has to say tonight. I will see Mr. Saadiq tomorrow at the pier. I may or may not get down at Prince/MJ this weekend. Friend slash lover slash may or may not be visiting from Africa (and staying for a while) next week. I miss Miami, miss Chicago. I miss my family. Their love is colossal.

update: Barack did me proud. He's such a classy guy. I'm elated.

On The Up Up And Away

2008-08-20T00:42:00.008-04:00

I have been away from Brooklyn for 15 days. I think it's the longest vacation I've taken from the city since 2003. It's not over yet. It's been real good on the mind. Usually, a vacation pushes me to face some inner ugliness. This one has me weaving dreams. These rainy days haven't been taken for granted. I don't want to go back.

Sunday Shine* { Still In It }

2008-08-17T19:23:00.005-04:00

Been doing a little meditation on what I'd like in my next partnership, but you know, I like to be surprised. But if there's one thing I'm seeking, it's someone who spits ideas as confidently as Jay Electronica. *sigh* Erykah, you lucky.

I'm in no rush though. I've been riding out this heartbreak for 3 months now. Not at a place of understanding or moving on. The feelings are heavy. Lopes said to just sit with them until they ease up. For the first time, I'm okay with doing that.

*

On a pretty loosely related note: A light. Some hope. Thank you PurpleZoe for the heads up.

$uperfuture

2008-08-13T21:31:00.004-04:00

This is the best.

Esperanza

2008-08-13T18:01:00.006-04:00

It's
just
lovely.

On A Pretty Summer Day

2008-08-11T14:17:00.006-04:00

I don't regret a dollar I've spent this summer because my wardrobe's on point and I've escaped the city twice. But it would still be nice to have some money left over for a few things I don't need.

Like these sandals:

And this dress:

And this purse, even if it's patchwork which I'm not usually a fan of:

sigh.