It was another interesting and thought provoking experience at TRJE this past Saturday, February 23. While sitting in the check-in circle, after libation was poured, I was expecting to witness another round of upbeat and positive accomplishments from the students. I was still racking my brain for something cool to share with everyone else when I walked into the Cinema Center. Finally, I decided something inspiring would have to hit me or else I was just really dull and would keep to myself again.
Ketu asked if anyone was ready with their presentation. With this being only my second meeting, I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but trusted that it would be remarkable no matter what. Two members, Bruce and Malik stood up and shared the events of the 1968 Orangeburg Massacre, where local policeman fired into a crowd protesting segregation and killed 3 young men. As painful as it was to listen to, the discomforting component was that not a lot of people in TRJE attendance knew of the incident. Ten minutes into the session and I had already learned something new and historical that caused humbling reflection on my own self. The trip there was already worth it.
Then, Ketu asked if anyone else was ready. He seemed a bit agitated when group after group replied that they were not ready. I sat there wishing I had something to contribute (even though I knew nothing of the requirements or subject matter) just to appease him and break the silence. The kids sat picking the floor, staring at the ceiling, attempting to explain themselves and Ketu would have nothing to do with it. He launched a challenging address of self-reflection and instruction. He said, “If you do not feed your mind, you are a hole. If your mind and your heart do not work together, you are dead.” He reminded everyone that people had died to make their lives “comfortable and Obama and Hilary Clinton would not be where they are today without the circumstances of what others had endured.” He reminded all of us that we forget where we have come from.
Not since the women’s studies courses I took in college had I felt such shame and sadness for barely knowing a past and not being presently active. I subscribe to a Feminist News journal called “Off Our Backs.” I try to stay abreast of what is happening with people, women, like me, trying to find their voices in a community of other voices. The suffering that women and minorities endure continues now, daily. It usually takes me a month to read the journal because it is so distressing and unjust. I’m so comfortable; I have to re-make myself comfortable to read pieces of the journal at a variety of sittings because I get uncomfortable. Just like everyone at TRJE on Saturday, I was comfortable because others pay the price, even today.
When we broke from the check-in circle and went into the creative writing session, we were all asked to think of an African-American who has made an impression on our lives. I thought this exercise stayed very true to what we had experienced through Ketu’s discussion. How often do we sit and ponder those who impact our lives, both past and present? What justice is there in knowing the greatness of someone and never speaking of it? Great people come into our lives, grab our attention and inspire activism. Our hearts feel it and our minds know it. Ketu was right. We are all connected and without education we can’t hope for understanding or betterment. I can still hear his words. I guess something inspiring hit me after all.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
TRJE - A Sacred Hoop
I can’t remember the last time I was so revved up and inspired as I am right now. This past Saturday, February 16th, I attended the Three Rivers Jenbe Ensemble Creative Writing class for the first time. To start things off, everyone sat in a large circle to honor those who have inspired or made an impact on the lives of others. One of the members of TRJE asked permission to drop water on a plant that was placed in the center of the circle. Each drop of water signified the name of a departed individual. This reminded me of a book I read once about Black Elk, an Oglala Sioux medicine man who’s Earth Prayer paid tribute to the Great Spirit and sacred hoop of all things. The sacred hoop signified the sanctified manner of all things in the spirit, peacefully living as one within the hoop. This center of peacefulness creates holiness within the circle. Black Elk believed that “anywhere is the center of the world” and on Saturday, I felt a true connection to those words.
Next, individuals took turns speaking of accomplishments that they had during the past week. Although random, there was a respectful manner in which people took turns speaking. Individuals would raise their hand, stand, say their names and then speak of something positive that happened to them. To me, this identification of oneself each time they spoke signified individuality within a common whole. Each person in the circle was an individual and spoke of personal experiences they had during the week, but the circle was a unit of support made of human components. Each individual person was a significant building block within a banded troupe and what they said made them human and honest.
As I sat on the floor, racking my brain for something somewhat interesting to share, I realized that the most significant part of my week was happening at that very moment. I could have sat and listened to them speak for hours. The innocence and happiness they spoke with collectively created a sense of equality among us. Although the majority of the circle was between the ages of 7 and 17, the experiences they spoke of were relatable on multiple levels and it made me happy to be among them.
The large circle then split and some of us went in one room to work on writing while the others stayed behind to create music. Once again, we made a circle on the floor. As I sat on the wooden floor and looked up at the high ceilings above me, I felt small but great at the same time. The basics of grounding ourselves on the floor created a sense of humbleness in a gigantic universe. While we seemed so small in body, what we were doing together was greater than all of us combined. If I were to look down from the sky at that moment, it would have made me smile to view the circle.
Celestine began the discussion by reading one of her writings. It was beautiful and inspiring. I couldn’t believe the things I heard. She spoke of Imani, an affirmation of faith. It was a poem about the strength she has in her beliefs. While repeating, “I believe,” every few lines, she travelled down a path that began with a Heavenly Father to her parents to herself. It was poignant. I was impressed with not only her recognition of things greater than herself, but her affirmation of it. In a society littered with Paris Hilton types, she stood a young girl with pure guts and immeasurable ability.
Each individual who read their compositions had something different to say and in a unique manner. The creative spirit was energizing and I found myself composing in my head. Finding me on a Saturday within a circle of inspiration brought joy of the purest nature and a small fire has been lit on my path. The last thing I witnessed truly motivated my walk. While individuals were reading their poems, one of the girls wrote a poem and then read it to the circle. It was awe-inspiring and reminded me of myself. I thought of all the papers that lay strewn about my home with random thoughts and small poems on them. I thought of all the thoughts I have written in book margins and notebooks. She reminded me of myself – always composing in my head – a kind of silent turrets where words scream at one another in my mind. She had let her thoughts seep out within this sacred hoop.
I can’t wait until this Saturday’s class.
Next, individuals took turns speaking of accomplishments that they had during the past week. Although random, there was a respectful manner in which people took turns speaking. Individuals would raise their hand, stand, say their names and then speak of something positive that happened to them. To me, this identification of oneself each time they spoke signified individuality within a common whole. Each person in the circle was an individual and spoke of personal experiences they had during the week, but the circle was a unit of support made of human components. Each individual person was a significant building block within a banded troupe and what they said made them human and honest.
As I sat on the floor, racking my brain for something somewhat interesting to share, I realized that the most significant part of my week was happening at that very moment. I could have sat and listened to them speak for hours. The innocence and happiness they spoke with collectively created a sense of equality among us. Although the majority of the circle was between the ages of 7 and 17, the experiences they spoke of were relatable on multiple levels and it made me happy to be among them.
The large circle then split and some of us went in one room to work on writing while the others stayed behind to create music. Once again, we made a circle on the floor. As I sat on the wooden floor and looked up at the high ceilings above me, I felt small but great at the same time. The basics of grounding ourselves on the floor created a sense of humbleness in a gigantic universe. While we seemed so small in body, what we were doing together was greater than all of us combined. If I were to look down from the sky at that moment, it would have made me smile to view the circle.
Celestine began the discussion by reading one of her writings. It was beautiful and inspiring. I couldn’t believe the things I heard. She spoke of Imani, an affirmation of faith. It was a poem about the strength she has in her beliefs. While repeating, “I believe,” every few lines, she travelled down a path that began with a Heavenly Father to her parents to herself. It was poignant. I was impressed with not only her recognition of things greater than herself, but her affirmation of it. In a society littered with Paris Hilton types, she stood a young girl with pure guts and immeasurable ability.
Each individual who read their compositions had something different to say and in a unique manner. The creative spirit was energizing and I found myself composing in my head. Finding me on a Saturday within a circle of inspiration brought joy of the purest nature and a small fire has been lit on my path. The last thing I witnessed truly motivated my walk. While individuals were reading their poems, one of the girls wrote a poem and then read it to the circle. It was awe-inspiring and reminded me of myself. I thought of all the papers that lay strewn about my home with random thoughts and small poems on them. I thought of all the thoughts I have written in book margins and notebooks. She reminded me of myself – always composing in my head – a kind of silent turrets where words scream at one another in my mind. She had let her thoughts seep out within this sacred hoop.
I can’t wait until this Saturday’s class.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Harrassed by a rent a cop
I was harassed by a rent a cop and I’m still in shock. After spending the past 2 days in the house due to extreme illness, I decided to ride along with my husband to Target. He was only going to be a minute – he was going to go by the pharmacy and wanted to pick up a household thermometer. It was five minutes to 8:00 p.m. when he pulled the car into a handicapped spot to make his quick dash. I sat in the car, too afraid of the bitter cold and my addiction to Target to get out of the car. The funny thing was that right before my husband got out of the car he said, “There sure are a lot of handicapped spots here.”
While I sat in the idling car, I looked over at a white Explorer who pulled in moments after my husband and me. The male driver sat in the SUV while the woman passenger ran into Target. I continued to people watch and saw what looked like a small Ford focus pull up alongside Target. The driver turned off all but the parking lights while the passenger leapt out of the seat and ran into the store. It was a cold night.
Soon, I saw the passenger of the white Explorer come out with two Starbuck’s cups. She handed the cups to the driver and then ran quickly back into Target. Just then, I saw a parking control vehicle pull up in front of Target. “Great,” I thought, “He’s going to say something. I know it.” And…He did.
Next thing I knew, this large figure dressed in a black sweater and black pants comes over to my window and says, “You have a handicapped placard to be parked there?” I rolled down my window and said, “My husband ran into the pharmacy and he will be right out.” The unidentified security person said, “Move the vehicle or I’ll write you a ticket.” I looked at him and then I looked over at the Explorer parked next to me with his Starbucks. Then, I looked back at the security person. He said, “Fine then. I’ll go ahead and give you a ticket.” I started moving over to the driver’s side and as I was doing so, noticed the security person standing at the back of my car taking a photograph of my license plate.
I opened the driver’s side door and said, “Sir! Sir! What are you doing?” He ignored me and continued to take a picture. I said, “Sir! You asked me to move and I am moving!” He just stood at the back of my car. The man in the Explorer was watching everything. The security person came up next to my car and said, “You looked at me.” I said, “What? Are you kidding? Are you going to take a picture of HIS car,” as I pointed at the Explorer. “He’s parked illegally! What about that person parked next to Target with their lights off? Are you going to give them a ticket?” The security person turned his back and walked to his vehicle.
I was so upset. I did not know whether to cry or scream. I watched the security vehicle drive out of the parking lot. He never said a word to either of the people I had mentioned who were also parked illegally. I parked my car and marched to the Target service desk to file a complaint. The manager was horrified and was unaware that people were taking pictures of license plates. She called the Target Loss Prevention and I relayed the story to him. He was also unaware that this type of activity was going on. The Loss Prevention person took my information and called the Fort Wayne Police Department while I went to look for my husband.
By the time I found my husband and paid for the few things we needed, the Loss Prevention person found us. He said the security vehicle has been hired by the city to patrol parking lots. The Fort Wayne Police Department said that taking pictures is something new they are doing, but only should be done if there is no one in the vehicle. I said, “Not only was I moving, but he never identified himself. He had no badge or information on him. I know were should not have been parked there, but neither should the other people and he did not say anything to them. He treated me like I was an ignorant twelve year old and here I am, an accomplished adult!”
The Loss Prevention person said, “He shouldn’t have treated you that way to begin with. What’s the point? Because we are so busy? Give me a break. He sounds like a jerk with nothing else to do. He should not have been taking a picture of your license plate. That would bother me, too.” My husband, severely irate by this time, and I thanked the Loss Prevention person and we left.
Since this episode occurred, I have called both the Fort Wayne Police Department and the Security Control office to file a complaint. But, here’s what really bothers me. We live during a time when we all have to be on our guard, looking over our shoulders, watching the small bubbles of our environments and most importantly working together. This person showed no identification and walked up to my window, spoke down to me and then took pictures of my license plate.
While it may have been the rent a cop’s duty to tell me to move my car, it was not his job to be rude or single me out among others who were also not parked in their designated spot. Was I being malicious sitting there? Were we keeping handicapped people from available spots? What exactly is the point of belittling a contributing member of society who gives back to the community every day? To be treated so disrespectfully – ignored while speaking – standing in the cold air after being sick and unable to leave the house all to defend a ten minute dash into Target? These are just details in a picture larger than any of us.
The real point to all of my anger – how can we as a community EVER expect society to improve with this type of insolent attitude being portrayed? As an adult, I am ashamed of the behavior of this security person. Every day I go to work to educate, teach and portray an attitude of professionalism and acceptance. People like this security person make the slovenly, impudent attitudes of the younger generations acceptable and notarized. In one move, this person outdoes all of the hard work and good that I and many others do every day. Cut to the quick – judged by an unworthy, ignorant, antagonizing anyone - It’s frustrating and it’s sad and it’s why we can never be caught off guard.
While I sat in the idling car, I looked over at a white Explorer who pulled in moments after my husband and me. The male driver sat in the SUV while the woman passenger ran into Target. I continued to people watch and saw what looked like a small Ford focus pull up alongside Target. The driver turned off all but the parking lights while the passenger leapt out of the seat and ran into the store. It was a cold night.
Soon, I saw the passenger of the white Explorer come out with two Starbuck’s cups. She handed the cups to the driver and then ran quickly back into Target. Just then, I saw a parking control vehicle pull up in front of Target. “Great,” I thought, “He’s going to say something. I know it.” And…He did.
Next thing I knew, this large figure dressed in a black sweater and black pants comes over to my window and says, “You have a handicapped placard to be parked there?” I rolled down my window and said, “My husband ran into the pharmacy and he will be right out.” The unidentified security person said, “Move the vehicle or I’ll write you a ticket.” I looked at him and then I looked over at the Explorer parked next to me with his Starbucks. Then, I looked back at the security person. He said, “Fine then. I’ll go ahead and give you a ticket.” I started moving over to the driver’s side and as I was doing so, noticed the security person standing at the back of my car taking a photograph of my license plate.
I opened the driver’s side door and said, “Sir! Sir! What are you doing?” He ignored me and continued to take a picture. I said, “Sir! You asked me to move and I am moving!” He just stood at the back of my car. The man in the Explorer was watching everything. The security person came up next to my car and said, “You looked at me.” I said, “What? Are you kidding? Are you going to take a picture of HIS car,” as I pointed at the Explorer. “He’s parked illegally! What about that person parked next to Target with their lights off? Are you going to give them a ticket?” The security person turned his back and walked to his vehicle.
I was so upset. I did not know whether to cry or scream. I watched the security vehicle drive out of the parking lot. He never said a word to either of the people I had mentioned who were also parked illegally. I parked my car and marched to the Target service desk to file a complaint. The manager was horrified and was unaware that people were taking pictures of license plates. She called the Target Loss Prevention and I relayed the story to him. He was also unaware that this type of activity was going on. The Loss Prevention person took my information and called the Fort Wayne Police Department while I went to look for my husband.
By the time I found my husband and paid for the few things we needed, the Loss Prevention person found us. He said the security vehicle has been hired by the city to patrol parking lots. The Fort Wayne Police Department said that taking pictures is something new they are doing, but only should be done if there is no one in the vehicle. I said, “Not only was I moving, but he never identified himself. He had no badge or information on him. I know were should not have been parked there, but neither should the other people and he did not say anything to them. He treated me like I was an ignorant twelve year old and here I am, an accomplished adult!”
The Loss Prevention person said, “He shouldn’t have treated you that way to begin with. What’s the point? Because we are so busy? Give me a break. He sounds like a jerk with nothing else to do. He should not have been taking a picture of your license plate. That would bother me, too.” My husband, severely irate by this time, and I thanked the Loss Prevention person and we left.
Since this episode occurred, I have called both the Fort Wayne Police Department and the Security Control office to file a complaint. But, here’s what really bothers me. We live during a time when we all have to be on our guard, looking over our shoulders, watching the small bubbles of our environments and most importantly working together. This person showed no identification and walked up to my window, spoke down to me and then took pictures of my license plate.
While it may have been the rent a cop’s duty to tell me to move my car, it was not his job to be rude or single me out among others who were also not parked in their designated spot. Was I being malicious sitting there? Were we keeping handicapped people from available spots? What exactly is the point of belittling a contributing member of society who gives back to the community every day? To be treated so disrespectfully – ignored while speaking – standing in the cold air after being sick and unable to leave the house all to defend a ten minute dash into Target? These are just details in a picture larger than any of us.
The real point to all of my anger – how can we as a community EVER expect society to improve with this type of insolent attitude being portrayed? As an adult, I am ashamed of the behavior of this security person. Every day I go to work to educate, teach and portray an attitude of professionalism and acceptance. People like this security person make the slovenly, impudent attitudes of the younger generations acceptable and notarized. In one move, this person outdoes all of the hard work and good that I and many others do every day. Cut to the quick – judged by an unworthy, ignorant, antagonizing anyone - It’s frustrating and it’s sad and it’s why we can never be caught off guard.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Stuck in a Mud Puddle
This past Tuesday, at 10:00 p.m., I found myself lying in a mud puddle - literally. After a very long day of working and then driving to and from Bluffton to teach a three hour class, it was windy and rainy and all I wanted to do was go home and go to sleep. We have three large dogs at home. These include a St. Bernard, a Bernese mountain dog and a Golden Lab. I saw them outside dancing and prancing in the less than desirable weather when I pulled in the driveway.
The side door of the garage nearly took my arm off as I turned to close it while carrying a very large, heavy bag full of teaching materials in one hand and my purse and travel mug in the other. As I turned to walk towards the house, sideways rain pricked my forehead and slid off of my glasses. Bam – I was down.
In the excitement of seeing me, the St. Bernard bashed into my left side, my right foot slid on mud and I was down. Cold wetness pooled over my left leg and I remember thinking for a moment, “this is not really my life.” Peering out from a half hood covered face, I started yelling for my husband who (about to jump in the shower) came flying out the door wearing only boxer shorts. Instantly, he yanked me up and helped me into the house asking if I was alright. There I stood. My entire left side drenched and muddy. Sticks and gravel stuck to my leg – my shoes…who knew where they were. All I kept saying was “My bag is wet. The papers are going to get wet. The student’s homework…” Then I turned to find my husband standing with a towel for me in one hand and my shoes in the other.
Moments like these have a way of sticking with you and it goes beyond the aftermath of bruised knee caps and egos. It’s life. Flying high only lasts so long before a mud pie gets thrown in the engine and you’re grounded. Sure. Grounding never lasts forever, but it has a way of shoving things into perspective. On the way home from class that night, I had been talking to my mother about the negative impact of never being home and what a mess everything was because my husband and I work so much and our house needed to be cleaned and paperwork needed to be attended to and the refrigerator smelled....there were papers to grade and lesson plans to be made….and….why did I have to do everything…and…well then I was on the ground…by myself..surrounded by dancing, heavy breathing dogs. It was not just a missed opportunity for candid camera; it was life giving me a swift kick.
We are surrounded by dogs every day. The kind who want to knock us around…make us question our motives and talents…blinding us by images of what we could and should be. For a few minutes on my way home, I had given into that. I had let my hood of self-pity fly over my head, not keeping my eye on where I was going. Watching my husband run outside with no clothes on made me think of how armor less we are without one another. As I continued to worry about the student’s papers, my husband worried about me and that is how it works. I think that is what community is. It’s not just knowing each other’s strengths and abilities, its accepting responsibility to look past them if for no other reason than to get off the ground.
The side door of the garage nearly took my arm off as I turned to close it while carrying a very large, heavy bag full of teaching materials in one hand and my purse and travel mug in the other. As I turned to walk towards the house, sideways rain pricked my forehead and slid off of my glasses. Bam – I was down.
In the excitement of seeing me, the St. Bernard bashed into my left side, my right foot slid on mud and I was down. Cold wetness pooled over my left leg and I remember thinking for a moment, “this is not really my life.” Peering out from a half hood covered face, I started yelling for my husband who (about to jump in the shower) came flying out the door wearing only boxer shorts. Instantly, he yanked me up and helped me into the house asking if I was alright. There I stood. My entire left side drenched and muddy. Sticks and gravel stuck to my leg – my shoes…who knew where they were. All I kept saying was “My bag is wet. The papers are going to get wet. The student’s homework…” Then I turned to find my husband standing with a towel for me in one hand and my shoes in the other.
Moments like these have a way of sticking with you and it goes beyond the aftermath of bruised knee caps and egos. It’s life. Flying high only lasts so long before a mud pie gets thrown in the engine and you’re grounded. Sure. Grounding never lasts forever, but it has a way of shoving things into perspective. On the way home from class that night, I had been talking to my mother about the negative impact of never being home and what a mess everything was because my husband and I work so much and our house needed to be cleaned and paperwork needed to be attended to and the refrigerator smelled....there were papers to grade and lesson plans to be made….and….why did I have to do everything…and…well then I was on the ground…by myself..surrounded by dancing, heavy breathing dogs. It was not just a missed opportunity for candid camera; it was life giving me a swift kick.
We are surrounded by dogs every day. The kind who want to knock us around…make us question our motives and talents…blinding us by images of what we could and should be. For a few minutes on my way home, I had given into that. I had let my hood of self-pity fly over my head, not keeping my eye on where I was going. Watching my husband run outside with no clothes on made me think of how armor less we are without one another. As I continued to worry about the student’s papers, my husband worried about me and that is how it works. I think that is what community is. It’s not just knowing each other’s strengths and abilities, its accepting responsibility to look past them if for no other reason than to get off the ground.
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