#facts: Being Honest w/ Myself

One of the hardest things for me to do is except harsh criticism from people close to me. It's not that I ever think that these people are wrong; they're often very right. Self reflection can often be one of our toughest tasks. It's hard to admit when others see areas that you need to improve in, that they are right. You know why?

It's because you have to look in the "mirror" and admit you were wrong!

I'm not talking about opinions or what other people feel. I'm talking about cold, hard, facts! For instance, when an ex girlfriend told my fairly new roommate at the time that I was "a nice enough guy" but that I "just drank too much". When my roommate mentioned to me what was said, I got indignant.

"Who was she to tell another person that about me?" I asked myself. "I don't drink that much. How dare she!"

Almost four years later, you know what conclusion I came to? She was right. 

About four or five months ago, my most recent ex girlfriend told me that I needed time to myself to "get my shit together". Guess what that was over, in part?

Yup! My drinking habit.

I used that as an example for two reasons. A) My drinking is probably one of the most criticized things in my life and B) it's one of the harshest realities that I have had to face about myself. I had to be honest and admit that not only was it true that I have a drinking problem, but that I had also began losing relationships over it. Even if that was only part of the issues in those relationships, it was still a fact.

I do have a drinking problem!

Being honest with oneself is hard for many of us, even over things that may not be as serious as alcoholism. I've looked at the trajectory of my personal life many times and had to admit that most of the struggles I have had has been due to me stubbornly holding onto my way of doing things. We all have to find ways to cope with things going on in our personal lives. Sometimes, though, how we choose to cope can lead to bigger issues.

I started drinking when I was 15 years old. Nothing crazy (not to say underage drinking isn't crazy, but just follow me), just a beer for the first time. I remember beer not being the best tasting thing I've ever had but it wasn't bad. I don't think I even tried liquor before I graduated high school. But once I turned 20 and then 21, I remember drinking quite a bit more. 

Access was the thing with me. At the time, my parents didn't really drink. My dad was a recovering alcoholic so there was never any liquor, beer or wine in the house.  But between the age of 20, 21, I got a job working at LaGuardia Airport in Queens, New York. The cargo office that I worked in was right next to one of the airport catering companies and a couple of the guys I worked with had some connections with a few people there. Every now and then we'd get "gifted" a couple of 30 gallon trash bags full of mini bottles of liquor. The liquor (and food at times) became available when an aircraft came "down the line" or at the end of its flight schedule for the day. Anything left on the aircraft couldn't go onto another aircraft so those items are technically "thrown out". The catering company workers would get first crack at whatever they wanted and some of that stuff made its way over to us. From that point on, I didn't have to buy any liquor for a little over two years (aside from buying stuff that I didn't have). And I only worked that job for about a year. I didn't know that was going to be the beginning of a 20 year battle with alcohol.

I lived in denial of a few things aside from the denial of being an alcoholic. There were things about myself that I didn't know. There were feelings I had about family issues that I was suppressing. I was in denial of my so-called spirituality. I didn't know I struggled with anxiety 'cus I was self medicating (I didn't even know that was a thing). I was searching for love 'cus I didn't acknowledge where it was missing in my life growing up. I drank when I was writing. I drank when I was hanging out. I drank before I got on stage to perform my poetry. I drank before, during and after sex 'cus I wasn't supposed to be having sex without being married. I rarely ever consciously drank for those reasons, but it eventually became an automatic thing. I didn't know I was creating a problem that had already consumed my father, one of my late grandmothers and others in my family.

In hindsight, I realize drinking was my way to deal with the things I couldn't process mentally. I've had some embarrassing moments where alcohol was involved. There are countless times where I don't remember much of anything after my first drink. There are times were I don't remember how I got home and times I can't believe I made it home. There may have been a wrecked car in the mix somewhere. I've brushed aside the concerned conversations from loved ones and close friends. I would drink before important events just to get through them or so that I could bring myself to go. I've lied about drinking when it was obvious that I was. I've argued with family trying to get me to not drive under the influence. I've promised people that I would stop drinking and I've promised myself that I would stop drinking. There was a time where my body seemingly told me that I was going to die and I vowed to give it up. 30 days later when I was no longer scared to drink I started back up, making excuses along the way.

I know I lost at least one relationship, in part, due to my alcohol use. Maybe all the other relationships fell apart for the same reason. You know what they say: "When everyone around you is telling you the same thing, they can't all be wrong". Everyone around me was right. I was beginning to believe them, even though I hated to hear it from some of them. But by that point, it was too late. Alcohol had a hold on me to the point where I was drinking even when I didn't want to, even when I knew I shouldn't have been. It was no longer a thing I was doing to have fun or calm down or just because.

It had become something I had to do...to survive.

In October of last year, I got my first ever DUI. I got booked but I was released just a few hours later without having to post bond. The Universe was definitely looking out for me there. In February of this year, with the COVID-19 pandemic raging, I hit that rock bottom that I had heard about so many times from other alcoholics and those who were going through some form of addiction. It was the second time within a year. The first time was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I convinced myself that all I had to do was just get through it and I would be ok. I got through it, barely. But the second one was much, much worse and it almost took me out, literally. So much was happening. Feelings that I never knew I would experience jumped on me and didn't let go. The alcohol stopped working. Another failed relationship left me feeling abandoned and alone for really the first time in my life. I had lost my job of 7 years at the beginning of the pandemic. I prayed for the first time in years...to not wake up. The next morning I was afraid to leave the house because I was afraid that I would do something that would keep me from making it back home. I had to go out for an appointment though, so I talked with a friend during that time. When I made it back to my apartment, I talked to my roommate. I was scared again. I cried. I asked for help.

I attended a few AA meetings and they were helpful but not enough. I made an appointment at an outpatient recovery center but on the day of the appointment, I allowed a friend who needed my help to be the excuse that made me blow it off. I was still drinking and still sinking deeper and deeper into this new depression. Eventually, I realized I needed to do more so I made the step and went back to the recovery center. Almost 3 months in, it's beginning to take hold and sobriety is beginning to look real. My anxiety even leveled off a bit. I've had some ups and downs and getting to this point hasn't been pretty, but it seems that I've turned a corner recently. Things are starting to look and feel different. I also know now, this is just the beginning of the rest of my life.

I decided to share this as a part of my recovery. I also shared this because even though I have some strong feelings about how a few things have transpired in my past relationships, especially the most recent one, I would not be in the place that I am now if those things hadn't happened. I've dealt with resentment towards that person but I've also felt an immense amount of gratitude towards them as well. I appreciate my roommate agreeing to be sort of an accountability partner for me and others who have witnessed my struggles and are continuing to give me grace.

I've decided to share this for another reason as well. Going through this recovery period introduced me to counseling. I'd been considering it for the past few years but I never associated my alcoholism with a need for therapy. It took one individual session to realize the correlation between the two. It's the single best thing I have done for myself and I wish I had done it earlier in life. So many things that I didn't realize was impacting me led me to using alcohol as a coping mechanism. I had convinced myself that I just liked to drink, and that was true. I also got used to lying to myself by telling myself I was ok even when I knew I was far from ok. Very far from it! Trauma from my childhood and my adult intimate relationships that I hadn't recognized was there was festering unresolved because I had normalized it. I didn't even know what that all meant.

Now, I do.

Now, I feel like I'm going to be ok.

Now, I don't feel like I am crazy.

Now, I know it is ok to ask for help and that asking for it is not a sign of weakness but actually a sign of strength and courage.

And even though those people that pointed out my faults were right about my alcoholism, that is not the sum of who I am. 

It's just something I am dealing with.

And I am grateful for finally deciding to take control of my life.

(side note: If you are reading this and are experiencing any sort of addiction or going through some tough times, talk to someone you trust. Consider some sort of therapy. If you don't feel like you are ok, don't overlook it. Don't normalize it. If you have experienced suicidal thoughts, please call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 800-273-8255 or visit suicidepreventionlifeline.org.)

Accountability But Still No Justice

 Let me start off by stating a few "facts".

Derek Chauvin murdered George Floyd. 

Myles Cosgrove murdered Breonna Taylor.

Kim Potter murdered Daunte Wright.

Darren Wilson murdered Mike Brown.

Amber Guyger murdered Botham Jean.

Daniel Pantaleo murdered Eric Garner.

Aaron Dean murdered Atatiana Jefferson.

These are just a few of the Black men and women who have been fatally shot and killed by police officers over the past few years or so. There are countless others stretching over the amount of time that I have been alive. There are still many others that we may not even know about. Each case has its own particular details, but one thing is true with each case:

They were all murdered!

Here is an actual fact that is shared by many of these cases:

Most of the officers involved in these shootings were never prosecuted.

The case against Derek Chauvin ended with him being found guilty of second and third degree murder and second degree manslaughter. He faces up 75 years in prison but is likely to serve no more than 40, since those sentences will likely run concurrently. As skeptical as many of us were that he would be found guilty, a lot of us are just as skeptical that he will receive a sentence that fits the crime.

The definition of murder is "the unlawful premeditated killing of one human being by another", according to the Oxford dictionary. The law breaks down murder and manslaughter in varying degrees, hence my placement of quotation marks around the word "facts" at the beginning of this blog post. History shows the law also broke down murder to avoid convicting white people who lynched and hung Black people just because they were Black.

Today is, and these aforementioned cases are, no different.

A lot of people reacted to the conviction of Derek Chauvin with words like "relief "and "accountability". Some people said they were glad to see justice had been served. Others made a clear distinction that accountability and justice were not the same. I whole heartedly agree that those two terms are completely different. Justice is defined one way as "the quality of being fair and reasonable". The term is also looked at to mean someone being arrested for a crime and ensure that they are tried in court. So justice absolutely means different things, by definition and by opinion.

But Derek Chauvin's conviction is not justice. It is merely accountability.

Accountability, simply put, means being held responsible for ones actions. Derek Chauvin being found guilty of killing George Floyd is what was supposed to happen! Derek Chauvin serving time in prison for killing George Floyd is what is supposed to happen! When you kneel on someone's neck for over 8 minutes while hearing them say that they cannot breathe, you murdered them. Maybe you didn't set out to murder that person when your day began, but that does not negate the fact that you had absolutely no regard for that person's life. As a police officer, Derek Chauvin was supposed to protect and serve and exhibit value for human life. He didn't, along with the other officers who did nothing to prevent George Floyd's death. Each of those officers should serve time right along with Chauvin. Police are supposed to be held to a higher standard. They are supposed to be held to a higher level of accountability. They, too often, are not.

In an ironic twist of fate, Daunte Wright was shot and killed by Kim Potter shortly before Chauvin was found guilty. She is said to have mistaken her gun for her Taser and was heard yelling "Taser, Taser, Taser!" before she fired a shot into Wright's chest. Like Floyd's case, Wright's killing was captured on video. But many of the aforementioned cases were caught on body cam, dashboard or cell phone video and no conviction occurred. The biggest consequence for some of these officers was that they lost their jobs or had to end their law enforcement careers immediately. So even in the face of explicit evidence, neither justice or accountability was served.

In the light of these recent police shootings, the cause for police reform in some counties, cities and states has been explored. To date, no substantial reform has occurred in many of these areas. I don't believe it ever will. The number of police shootings of Black men and women since the Chauvin verdict and the circumstances around them supports my feeling on that. Many will say that all police officers aren't rouge cops, that they take their jobs seriously and that they truly are out there trying to protect and serve. I believe that to be true. But the system in which these officers serve is corrupt and it has been since its inception. The system is not designed to hold police officers accountable to the fullest extent of the law. In many cases, the police as a whole are above the law they are commissioned to uphold. History shows an unwillingness for courts to indict officers in the cases, which allows these rogue officers to operate with no sense of impunity.

Again, NO ACCOUNTABILITY!

When it comes to Black unarmed men and women at their various points of engagement with the police, the so called "crime"rarely fits the "punishment". A number of these encounters have been during traffic stops, home wellness checks and other non-violent engagements. To get shot and killed during a routine traffic stop while not posing any kind of threat to an officer is absurd. To be shot and killed when the reason police officers showed up at your home was because they were called to do a wellness check is unconscionable. To have an officer kneel on your neck until you die, after you are in custody, all because you were accused of trying to pass off a counterfeit bill is disgusting. To be shot and killed in your own home and the excuse of the officer responsible was that she "thought she was in her apartment and that the occupant was an intruder" is ridiculous.

But just as disgusting is how white offenders have been treated in comparison after much heinous crimes. We all know the story of how Dylan Roof murdered nine Black men and women (including a state senator) in a church in Charleston, SC. We all know how the officers who found him in a parked car treated him with care, asking if he was hungry and making sure he was fed. Those officers knew who he was and what he had done and that he was a potential threat. Dylan Roof survived to see his court date. Many of us know about Kyle Rittenhouse, the 17 year old white male who shot into a crowd of peaceful protesters after the police shooting of Jacob Blake with an assault rifle he should not have had. Accounts from witnesses and video footage tell how Rittenhouse was allowed to walk past police officers with the rifle he used to kill two people and wound another and leave the scene. This all transpired while people in the crowd were yelling for police officers to arrest him because he had shot people. He was eventually arrested the next day.

Eventually arrested the next day...

I'm not in any way suggesting that Dylan Ruth, Kyle Rittenhouse or any other white offender should have been shot and killed after committing their violent and deadly crimes. What I am suggesting is that none of the aforementioned Black unarmed  men and women should have been killed while committing no crime at all. I am also saying that as violent offenders, what saved Roof and Rittenhouse was the color of their skin. What has killed the numbers of unarmed Black men and women was the color their skin was not. If police handled each encounter as they are supposedly trained to do, then maybe we wouldn't have this problem in our country.

Or maybe they are doing what they have been trained to do. Maybe they are dispositioned to value white lives and view Black men and women as a threat from the jump. Kim Potter was supposed to be some sort of training officer, so her excuse of mistaking her gun for her taser holds no water at all with me. None of the excuses we hear hold any water with me. And when people like Derek Chauvin are found guilty for their crimes and sentenced accordingly, I don't feel any sense of relief or justice. 

It's what is supposed to happen. 

It just hardly ever does. It probably won't happen more frequently now. And even if it does, it won't bring any of those Back men and women who died for nothing back.

Be safe out there, my people. 

Darkman X: The Loss of a Messenger

 I never formally meet DMX, but I feel like I knew him a little bit. A few years ago he moved to the same  area I moved to 19 years ago, from New York as well, in Greenville, SC. Some said he lived in Simpsonville, SC and others said he had a house in Travelers Rest, SC. Wherever it was that he actually lived, I saw him on two occasions. 

The first time was at Fall for Greenville, an annual fall street festival in town. The other was at the Greenville-Spartanburg International Airport where I used to work. 

At Fall for Greenville, I walked right past him and a crowd of people. I believe this was right around the time when he first moved to the area, or at least when most people found out. He had a huge yellow snake and the crowd of people around him seemed to be more interested in the snake than in him. Maybe that's why I didn't realize it was him. He seemed to be enjoying the crowd regardless.

My encounter with him at the airport became a funny story that I have told probably over 100 times or more. I worked at the information counter and, at that time, the morning shift started at 5am. I was having a pretty rough morning (as usual) but it had been pretty quiet in the terminal so far. Then I heard this:

"Wassup OG, Triple OG?!"

My first reaction in my mind was "Who the hell is yelling in the terminal like a damn maniac this early in the morning?" When I looked up I saw that it was DMX, walking through the lobby headed up to the gate area for a flight. He threw up the deuce and I threw one back. He kept it moving. Later on in the early afternoon, I saw him coming back down the escalator. He didn't look happy. A little while later, one of the airport police officers came to the desk and told me that "Earl" had missed his flight and that he'd be back in the evening. I would later find out that he was headed to New York to shoot a scene for a movie, which ended up being Chris Rock's Top Five.

"Earl", as the airport police would often refer to him as, had an interesting relationship with the GSP airport and those of us who worked there. Something always happened when he flew out and it often ended up with some sort of police interaction, but nothing crazy. Most of the time it was due to him not having a drivers license. But everyone who'd had some sort of dealings with him at the airport loved him. One guy I knew, T, ended up being the person that DMX always called to get him checked in for almost every Delta flight to LaGuardia Airport he flew out on. T said X was always late and he would call on him because he knew everyone in the airport. My former boss ran into him a number of times but didn't really know who he was was.  All she knew was that he was a rapper and that there was always something going on with him when he flew out. There are a lot of other stories like this from my days at GSP.

Maybe this is why his death affected me in a similar way the The Notorious B.I.G.'s death did. I had some sort of connection with him, too, even though it wasn't really a personal one. My connection to B.I.G. was that my brother worked for (((stereotype))), a small design firm that had worked on the cover art for his second and last album, Life After Death. I still remember the day when my brother came home telling me and the rest of my family that B.I.G. had been shot and killed in Los Angeles. I felt like someone I knew had died, even though I really didn't know him at all.

We've all heard the stories of DMX's trials and tribulations. Whenever I would hear of his struggles with addiction and his run-ins with the law, I always felt for the man, not the rapper/ actor. I wanted him to win. I wanted him to survive. When I saw his Verzuz battle with Snoop Dogg and noticed his weight gain I was shocked at first but he, somehow, looked healthy to me. He looked like he was different. I really thought he was finally making some headway through his struggles, trying to be better and getting the help he needed. When I heard the news of him being hospitalized, I wasn't surprised, but I was scared. I was scared he wasn't going to make it. 

He didn't.

My oldest sister has always tried to drive home to me the importance of having some type of spiritual relationship with God. I grew up a Jehovah's Witness but left the organization in my late 20's. Once, she sent me a video of DMX doing one of his patented prayers at a show. I remember being truly amazed and I still get goosebumps thinking about it. Whenever I hear him pray, I can feel the pain and agony in his words and the conviction in his pleas. This man knew in his heart that God was the only being in the universe that could save him from his demons. I felt his faith and, at times wished I had a semblance of that kind of faith. I truly believe Earl Simmons was a messenger. That is what we lost when he transitioned from here. A one of one.

Preach Jacobs wrote an article on the late Earl Simmons and talked about his cries for help in his music. I felt that. In 2021 the idea of therapy, especially for Black men, is way more accepted than it was in the late 90's. I often wonder what therapy could have done for a young DMX back then and how it may have helped him as he grew older. Often when someone passes on, especially heralded celebrities, stories of their childhood tend to come out. I read a lot of those stories this week about X. Some of them I already knew, some I didn't. You hear about the people he trusted who failed to protect him. You hear about the story of him being first introduced to crack, unbeknownst to him, by a trusted friend who didn't tell him he'd laced a blunt with it. You hear about his abusive mother and how he roamed the streets at night, befriending stray dogs just to get away from the abuse. You wonder how he made it as long as he did. You wonder what a clean and sober Earl Simmons would have looked like and sounded like.

I wonder if the trajectory of his life was doomed from the start.

50 years of the life that DMX lived would have been hard on anyone. I look at the 41 years that I have lived and I am thankful the things I have struggled with have been somewhat manageable. I can't begin to imagine having battled the things DMX did from almost infancy. I'm not sure if I wouldn't have taken my life or if I wouldn't have ended up like him, maybe much earlier. Whatever caused his untimely death is irrelevant. The truth of the matter is he survived probably for as long as he could have under the circumstances. As tragic as his death is, it's somewhat remarkable that it didn't come earlier. I don't think his death impacts me the same way if he dies at, say, 35. DMX was 28 or 29 years old when he dropped his first album. That's already old in rap years. And yet, he left an indelible imprint over a short period of time that will stay with me forever. The life he led up to that, the hard life he was subjected to, has a lot to do with that.

I hope the world never forgets Earl "DMX" Simmons. I hope the generations growing up now comes to know him as more than the tragic figure he was portrayed as in the media and in the news. Was he a prophet? I don't know, but I know he was a vessel and a messenger from a higher source. How do you explain how he touched the hearts of so many with his words outside of his rap lyrics? Those prayers on stages and within his art speak of a divine connection. He knew who his savior was and he was begging to be rescued. I'd like to think his prayers have finally been answered. 

It's just a shame that the world didn't give him his flowers before the gray hairs in his beard began to show. It's a shame we all didn't realize we were in the presence of a spiritual warrior. But some of us did. 

I did.

I just wish he was still here. Better. Happy. Alive.

But I am glad he is now at peace. 

The Fires THIS Time: This IS America

I'm over it.

I'm overwhelmed.

I'm tired.

I'm fortunate.

I'm angry.

I'm fucking mad!

These were the feelings I was experiencing before the global pandemic of COVID-19 became a reality for us all instead of a rumor.

These were the feelings I was experiencing before I heard about what happened to Ahmaud Arbery. These were the same feelings I was still experiencing when I heard about Breonna Taylor.

When I heard about George Floyd though, I felt something initially that I hadn't felt in a long time.

I felt nothing.

At that point, I was already full of emotions on top of the emotions that just go along with everyday life for some of us. I didn't read anything regarding what I had heard. I didn't watch, and still have not watched, the video. I didn't feel anything because I had nothing left to feel.

I can't breathe.

They did it again!

I remember when Eric Garner was choked to death by New York City police on a Staten Island sidewalk on July 17th 2014. I remember feeling the same way then as I did when I heard about George Floyd. I remember thinking that nothing of significance was going to happen to the officers involved.

I eventually did read an article on what happened to George Floyd and I regretted it, initially. I began to feel the emotions that I had already been feeling, but now for the situation. Multiplied and intensified. I started trying to figure out where could I place these emotions because, frankly, I had no room for them. Mentally, spiritually, energetically or physically. Aside from adjusting to life amidst the pandemic, I had a lot of other things going on that came with their own levels of stress. But those feelings were there and they were bubbling forth and with every social media post I saw or article I read, those feelings grew stronger and stronger. I could no longer not feel what I was feeling. It was impossible.

They did it, AGAIN!

Then, a lot of things happened, again. Protests began, again. Donald Trump made several stupid and infuriating comments, again. Social media went crazy, again. The the riots happened, again. The fires began to burn, again. State and local government officials sounded off, again. Opinions were drawn, again. Conversations were had again. Celebrities spoke out, attended rallies, donated money, etc., again.


The question, 'And what, now?', was asked. Again.


The obligatory call for change was made, again. White people not knowing what to say or do because they didn't want to come across as racist happened, again. White people placing blame on the protesters, peaceful or otherwise, began again. The Colin Kaepernick situation came up, again. Black parents had to have discussions with their Black children, again, about how to act when confronted by police. More reports of police brutality came out again, notably, of two Black Atlanta police officers tasing a Black couple while they were in their car. The couple was taking photos and video of the protest happening around them while they sat in traffic on their way out to get food.

And finally, after all of the above happened as I was processing new old feelings about new old things happening, I decided to write a blog about it.


Again.


An older white woman commented in a virtual community gathering I recently attended that grief is cyclical. She said you never really stop grieving when a loved one dies or when some sort of tragedy happens. That is, if you grieve at all. When it comes to the assault on Black and Brown bodies in this country, that's cyclical as well. It evolves, as does racism. It adapts to the times, adapts to resistance. New tactics are employed, the rhetoric gets louder and the hate gets stronger. The overt existence of white privilege becomes outwardly clear to all, yet not all are willing to be honest about it. White people ask: "Well, what can we do?" and it is expected of Black people to educate them.


In 2020. 


With information available in the palm of their hands.


At the touch their fingers. 


And even at the sound of their voices.


At this point, I don't know what to tell a white person who asks what is it that they can do. I don't think I ever had an answer for that question. When a white person sees unarmed people of color getting shot down and choked out by police and civilians then later vilified in attempts to cover up and/or exonerate the guilty parties and has to ask what can they do, there is honestly nothing they can do. There is nothing anyone can do for them. Whether they have done so intentionally or not, they do not see that they are part of a problem. Not knowing is no longer an excuse. It's an identifying mark of those who choose to be ignorant.


This is America. This is what America has been since the Pilgrims came here and stole this land from it's indigenous inhabitants and called them Indians. This is what America has been since they pillaged African villages and took those inhabitants, packed them into the bottoms of ships, sailed back to this country and sold them like chattel. This is what America has been since they used us to fight their wars on domestic and foreign soil, only to treat us as less of a person at home. This is what America has been since it allowed the election of Barack Obama only to undue that mirage of progress eight years later by electing Donald Trump to chants of "Make America Great Again". This is the same America who whitewashes its own history so that it doesn't have to teach Black history.


So there are fires burning in multiple cities across this country. Stores are being looted, businesses have been destroyed. Curfews are being implemented. Donald Trump has said that he will deploy the military to certain cities if local and state government do not utilize the National Guard correctly in response to protests. City officials urge protesters to be better while some of those protesters are being fired upon and shot by police. White people are asking why, while Black people are being pushed well over the edge. The absence of evidence no longer is required to avoid justice when it comes to the killing of Black and Brown men, women and children. All society needs to hear is that the individual behind the gun either feared for their lives or wore a badge.


But all we hear, the people who look like me and the countless unarmed men, woman and children who have been gunned down by police, are excuses and empty rhetoric.


Again.

I Can't Breathe.

Again.

JAY-Z & the NFL: Money Over Everything

JAY-Z might as well have made his deal with Donald Trump.

JAY-Z could have made a deal with the KKK and people would still be like "Let's see what happens."

JAY-Z is a sellout.

JAY Z ain't never been shit.

JAY-Z this, JAY-Z that...in JAY-Z news...

That last quote came directly from one of his songs, The Blueprint 2.



I, for one, was initially surprised that JAY-Z had struck a deal between his RocNation imprint and the NFL. But that surprise quickly faded to disappointment in myself for actually being surprised.

Sure, the man has done a lot of philanthropy work. Some of it has been public while a lot of it has been conducted behind the scenes. He has helped other artists out of financial trouble and has been said to have spent millions on Meek Mill's legal fees while fighting for his release from prison.


Hell, he openly supported Colin Kaepernick, right?


He did, he says he still does, but this deal he has made with the NFL doesn't look like support. It looks like betrayal.


For a few days, I was of the camp who felt like there had to be more to this deal than what it looked like from the outside. JAY-Z turned down performing at the Super Bowl, seemingly in solidarity with Kaeperick. He literally rapped: "You need me, I don't need you/ every night we in the end zone/ tell the NFL we in stadiums, too." He'd become known for making power moves with a bigger picture in mind.


But he's also rapped these words: "I can't help the poor if I'm one of them/ so I got rich and gave back to me, that's the win-win." For me, that says it all.


Look, I'm not here to bash JAY-Z. He's doing what uber-wealthy people do, which is: whatever they want to do. To succeed in the arenas where he has you have to be ruthless, even unscrupulous to get what you want. If JAY-Z ultimately wants to own an NFL team, which is what is being reported, then this deal is probably the first step in that process. It's a fucked up deal but it is a deal that he is willing to do, albeit under the guise of NFL entertainment and improving on the league's so called social justice initiatives. Do I agree with it? Not at all. But JAY-Z is his own man and he has always done things, for good or bad, with his own best interests in mind.


Interesting side note: According to JAY-Z, he turned down performing at the Super Bowl in 2017 mainly because he didn't like the way the artist selection process worked.


Which brings me to those who support JAY-Z and this deal.


The NFL is a league that collectively colluded to banish Colin Kaepernick and punish any players that kneeled along with him or supported him during football games.


The NFL is full of owners that agreed with Trump when he referred to protesting players, who were mostly Black, as "son's of bitches" that should be fired.


The NFL is a league in which one of it's teams, the Miami Dolphins, blasted several JAY-Z records during practice after one of its players, Kenny Stills, publicly ripped the RocNation/ NFL deal. It's not clear if this was done as a joke by the coach, Brian Flores (who is Black), or as a message to Stills. The coach says he was using it as motivation because Stills wasn't performing well in camp.


The NFL is a league that, unlike the NBA and other sports leagues that encourage and promote activism and diversity, prefer their stars to stay behind their face masks and not take extreme political or social stances. Unless your name is Tom Brady.


So for a number of Black current and former players, commentators, analysts, pundits, talking heads, etc., to come out and not just support JAY-Z and support the deal but also throw Colin Kaepernick under the bus is appalling. Marcellus Wiley, a guy I used to really like, went as far as to say that Kaepernick was "not well enough versed in the subject because he never lived it".


Never lived it???


I know not everyone agrees (obviously) with the way Colin Kaepernick decided to protest against the injustices Black men and women in this country experience. I know not everyone agrees with the settlement he reached with the NFL. Some are saying that him taking whatever the settlement was is somewhat the equivalent to JAY-Z making this deal. But Colin Kaepernick put his entire career on the line for an issue that no one wanted to touch and that the NFL didn't want anyone to touch. He went up against the "shield" and sued the NFL and its owners for collusion. And while the reported less than $10 million settlement he took from the NFL raised a few eyebrows, the message that Kaepernick was kneeling for, lost millions for, lost his job for and sacrificed his public image for was well heard. In many ways, what Kaepernick started paved the way for JAY-Z to even be in a position to make this deal. So what is it that Kaepernick hasn't lived that JAY-Z has lived that disqualifies Kaepernick's role in this whole thing?


Marcellus Wiley also intimated that Kaepernick's unwillingness to sit down with, I guess, "learned individuals" who he feels are more educated on the struggle cost him credibility. He said that "we" (and I guess by that he meant the Black people who thought this movement was just about him trying to stay relevant) didn't know what Colin's leadership was like because he was "voiceless". He accused him and those who joined with him from the outset as being "misleading", saying that when Kaepernick was at the top of his game, he wasn't thinking about social justice. But when his time on the field was cut, people in the 49ers organization and some people around him were saying that Kaepernick wasn't sitting during the anthem in protest, but that he was "pouting" and that he was told to "at least kneel out of respect". Wiley claims that this was how the kneeling thing for Kaepernick started.


If anyone is lacking "credibility" in this whole thing, it's Marcellus Wiley. These comments were made on a show co-hosted by Jason Whitlock. If you don't know anything about Mr. Whitlock, look him up. He has always been disproportionately critical of Kaepernick's protest, calling him an "attention whore" and calling his supporters "Caper-nicks". Like most of Kaepernick's detractors, Jason Whitlock often skirted the original reason why Kaepernick even began protesting, even going as far as to mock him and his protest on a Twitter post. Individuals like Whitlock have made a living off of disparaging young Black athletes while supporting the viewpoints that made Kaepernick's protest necessary in the first place. He would also go on to write an op-ed piece for The Wall Street Journal, basically saying that Kaepernick wasn't Black enough to protest for Black people against police brutality.


Here's the quote:

"...while Brooklyn Dodgers owner Branch Rickey strategically chose Jackie Robinson to break baseball's color barrier, Mr. Kaepernick's protest came seemingly out of nowhere. Before the 2016 season, the mixed race quarterback, who'd been adopted by a suburban white family, was known mainly for his chisled abs, tattooed body and a touchdown celebration involving him kissing his biceps." 

Clearly, this is not a quote from an unbiased viewpoint. If I didn't know who Jason Whitlock was, I would think he was a Black person writing about another Black person protesting social injustice.


And I think this is part of the polarizing responses we have seen from those who support JAY-Z and this deal with the NFL. Kaepernick, in my opinion, wasn't fully embraced as the face of the protest when he started it. There were a lot of questions about his intentions, especially since he didn't talk about his protest too much after he initially explained why he was doing it. It's true, Kaepernick is of mixed heritage and was adopted by a suburban white family. So yes, he hasn't lived in the same shoes as JAY-Z and many other Black rappers or Black athletes or Black entertainers. But that doesn't make JAY-Z, anyone considered more Black or someone else from "the streets" more qualified to be the face of such a protest. JAY-Z's platform is different, his goals are different. He moves in different circles. JAY-Z had nothing to lose by turning down the offer to perform at the Super Bowl. He was already JAY-Z. Colin Kaepernick became a national pariah, has been denied an opportunity to use his skills and talents to make a living by his former employer and reinvented himself as an activist to highlight an issue that had been claiming lives of unarmed Black men, women and children.


Think about this: what if JAY-Z were denied the opportunity to make such a deal with the NFL because they were not inclined to do business with a former drug dealer? This was actually a topic of conversation on Twitter when the news of the deal broke. It's hard to frame all of this because JAY-Z, as successful as he has been in the music industry and in the business world, represents the American underdog. A guy like him isn't supposed to be sitting at the same table with billionaires. And yet he is. Every time JAY-Z broke through a glass ceiling and stepped into room where white America said he didn't belong many of us, including myself, rooted for him. It always felt like a win for us. On the flip side, a guy like Colin Kaepernick shouldn't look like the stereotypical "Black thug", with his hair in cornrows or an Afro, protesting on behalf of Black people. And yet he is. But the same people who rooted for JAY-Z and are rooting for him now can't see past Colin's 'fro. Now Colin is in the way. No one questioned JAY-Z when he wore Kaepernick's jersey (except for probably Jason Whitlock, who once questioned the rappers values but doesn't see the same issue on this NFL deal). Now, the one person who gave JAY-Z a cause to get behind is being told to step out of the way and let a more qualified and credible person take over. Let's not get lost on the point of what this deal actually is. This is an entertainment deal. Adding that the deal would also help boost the NFL's Inspire to Change initiative is, in reality, a footnote.


This seems like that scene out of The Godfather II  where Fredo Corleone betrays Michael Corleone in regards to business negotiations. Maybe that's why he's doing the deal. Maybe a ruthless betrayal to attain his goal, whatever that goal is, is worth the public backlash he's receiving. He's receiving a lot of support, too. And maybe this all becomes a good thing later down the line. But if it doesn't, he won't care. He'll either end the deal or decide it's better to continue because he's at the table. He'll probably either own a team or be part of an ownership group one day. And that is his prerogative.


But let's not forget what it cost for JAY-Z to be in that room. It cost Colin Kaepernick.

"Session No. 1"

Release your inhibitions 

fuck what those other cats told you

fuck those who used your weaknesses

for their strength

your kindness

for your weakness

their words for your speechlessness

don’t let them destroy your future

don’t let them resurrect your past

through minds eyes they deceive you

through social status they define you

they never loved you

their faces changed constantly

even in lover's embraces

they chased a facsimile

you were the facsimile

they created

‘cus they hated themselves

and their choices

and mocked yours

and blocked your

blessings

though agitation

and feigned anxiety 

this is your therapy

you wrote books

to dirty looks

and dirty words

past friends now enemies

through similar words

and the circle

you once nurtured 

is now square

and anxiety causes you to twist your hair

but that’s a crown, King

that's a crown, Queen

so twist on and let your crown bring

hatred from those 

who were never your peers

your ears peaked

when you heard ‘love’

‘cus you never understood

what real love was

until now

until thou

met love on an abandoned block

that caused you to call home

like E.T., you just wanna go home

but where’s the cell phone

to phone 

home

when our love is in park

while real love sleeps alone in the dark

waiting for you

she bore you

you’re an earth child

but you?

you running from you...

yearning the soil’s touch

of her soul’s touch

‘cus all you can do

is lay awake after nightmares

recurring for you

of that one

who tried to tear you in two

tried to make you

that one that you wasn’t

who was the one that you wasn’t?

some Decepticon

that pulled a con

and left destruction for you

to try to repair

so you studied masonry

carpentry

architecture

trying to build rebuttals

for their conjecture

but peep the picture

the big picture

peep the scripture

unfold

with every new goal

you decide who’s witcha 

your tribe

is your tribe

you don’t have to ask questions

they always arrive with answers

“I’ll take ‘Tribe’ for $2,000 Alex”

the daily double

is your reflection in mirrors

not their eyes

but yours

I’m long winded

‘cus I ascended 

and saw nothing but words

‘cus Saul Williams

then Steve Williams

and Marlanda Dekine

defined words already in me

I wasn’t ready to find

but now I am

I’ve already found

the false truths

that people speak when their chakras

are down

misaligned

was never aligned

but you chiropracted yours

and burned sage

to their discrace

they couldn’t stand the smell

say no more...

say no more

reality’s whores

are nothing more

than roadblocks

these crooked folks

are nothing more than roadblocks

your doubt and self loathing

are more than just roadblocks

they’re mental blocks 

embedded by others

but cultivated by you

but cultivated by me

every time you believe

every time I believe

every time

you and I decide

to let that bullshit ride

and do nothing to ride to

our destiny

It’s our destiny

It’s our destiny

don’t take these words

as harsh indictments of our spirit

this is truth coming out

regurgitated for our health

toxicity’s

proximity

to our souls is a breech

like those planes on 9/11

flying over Wall Street

where was the guard?

where is our god?

are we our guard?

are we our god?

who is our god?

When Endings Are Really Beginnings

This is not the way I saw things turning out. Things were supposed to be much different than this. I am lost, not sure of the next step to take. I'm not even sure if I want to continue the story of this path I have chosen because all the characters are screwed up. There are people who I knew would still be here that are gone now. There are people that I thought were gone that have come back. I've made some decisions that I regret and own, and there are some decisions that I am not sure of. I am recognizing what actually is and was going on regarding the most difficult situation I am trying to overcome. I am struggling to admit the whole of what that was and is. Some days I can't believe it and other days I get so angry with myself for not seeing it for what it truly was, even as everyone around me repeatedly tried to get me to see it. Was I naive or just stupid? Did I cause all of this? Has it changed me for better or for worse?


These are the thoughts that run through my mind on a daily basis now. Those who know me personally know why. For those who don't know me personally, I'll put a little bit of it out there to give context to the rest of this post.


A relationship with someone I've known for about 15 years ended rather abruptly.  


Those words were really hard to type. I'm still not ready to really speak about it fully in this forum but I touched on it slightly in my last post. For the past 15 years, the relationship I had with this person impacted every facet of my life. There were major ups and even more major downs. There were some major benefits to having this person in my life. I saw a future with this person. When that part of the relationship broke down for various reasons, I felt that I still needed this person in my life. I tried to make amends and, for the past two years, I really thought I was making some progress in salvaging at least a friendship.


But on the day I turned 39, the whole thing ended.


Almost daily, I find myself trying to understand the events that led up to the decisions I made that day regarding this relationship. The interesting thing is, for about three months prior, I had been seriously examining the role it played in the current trajectory my life was on and how that fit into my goals and plans for the future. My good friend Davelyn Hill, who is a Level II Reiki Practitioner and a spiritual midwife (look her up on Facebook here), held a Spiritual Movement session for me in an effort to help me identify and release any negative energy that I may have been holding onto. A few friends agreed to be a part of the session, speaking candidly and honestly about some of the things they had noticed with me overall and in regards to this relationship. It was very tough to see people I care deeply about, and who obviously cared about me, speak about such a sensitive topic for me. There was no bashing of the person, just honest dialogue and encouraging sentiment. The onus was really on me and what it was that I was trying to achieve moving forward.


There was also a Reiki session. Davelyn said that the particular ritual she did for me was for "clearing and removing blockages in the chakras and aura" and for "healing energy". At the time, I had a very limited knowledge about chakras, auras and spritual energy. I was open to anything that could help get me "unstuck" and help me move forward with the goals I had set out for myself. Davelyn told me it could help, so I agreed. The experience was...jarring, to say the least.


As far as the ritual, Davelyn placed some stones on different places on my body that represented select Chakra points as I laid on the floor with my eyes closed. Those that participated in the session were told to speak out loud the things they wanted to help remove from me and to act as if they were actually pulling these things away from me as they spoke. I can't remember all the things that were spoken but  few of those things were self-doubt, guilt, addictions, fear, toxic relationships, etc. As the ritual went on, I began to see colors as my eyes were closed. First blue, then orange and then yellow. Then a swirl of black came in and image of a person formed, but just a shadow. The image started off seemingly far away but then it slowly came closer and closer. This repeated maybe 3 or 4 times while the colors changed a little bit, mainly remaining on either blue or purple.


Every time the image of this person started to move away, I could hear my own voice in my head saying "Don't go". At one point, I could hear my voice pleading with the image to stay. I could also hear the voices of the other participants still speaking on the things they wanted to be removed from me, but I couldn't hear their words. The image of the person was beginning to move further and further away and, at one point, the voice in my head stopped pleading for it to stay. I could hear my voice saying "Okay, okay. I release you. I am ready to move on and I wish for you the same." The voice may have said this 4 or 5 times. My heart rate sped up a little and I could feel anxiety coming over me. I remember being afraid that I might become overwhelmed with emotion right there on the floor or have a panic attack. The image kept moving further and further away until it was gone, disappearing in the same swirl of black that it appeared in just a few moments ago. The purple color vanished into a flash of white and the ritual was over.


Afterward, after everyone had left, I was physically and mentally exhausted. I felt empty. I had never experienced anything like that, at all. I was drained, in every sense of the word. A few people who weren't able to attend the session but knew what was planned asked how I was doing and, when I told them, suggested that I fill up on things that would bring positive energy to me. Work on some things that you've been putting off, be around people with good energy, etc. One friend told me if you don't fill up on positive things, that space can quickly be filled with the old or new negative energy.


So, I did my best to follow that advice. Over the next few months, I focused more on the energy that I was receiving into my space, the things that I really needed to work on (procrastination, time management, excessive drinking, better eating and exercise, recognizing toxicity in myself and others, etc.) and what role this relationship was going to play in my future.


From Sunday July 5th, to my birthday, Monday October 1st, little did I know, the Universe had already set in motion what I had manifested in that spiritual movement session. I wanted to let go off whatever it was that was holding me back but I wasn't really doing all that I could have and should have been doing to align myself with what I was saying I wanted. But you know what they say, if you speak it into existence, it will happen.


And it did!


What I have come to realize since this relationship came to an abrupt end is that the outcome really had nothing to do with this person. It had everything to do with me. I had to make some tough decisions if I wanted to release myself from the state of mind that I was allowing this relationship to keep me in. I had to admit and accept the role I played in the relationship being what it was at that point, but also admitting and accepting that the season for the both of us had long ago been over. I had tried to prolong it out of guilt for my actions years back, but also because I was stuck in the past and not ready to imagine a life completely without this person. But once I manifested that I wanted my life to move forward, that I wanted to put myself in a position to be successful and reach the goals I had set out for myself, the Universe listened and began to conspire.


I shared this because I am still progressing through the steps of releasing and moving forward. I feel like sharing is part of that. I am also learning how powerful our thoughts and manifestations really are. Along with that, I am learning how powerful our purposes are as well. When you surround yourself with people who are aligned with your purpose, and you are constantly at work at your purpose, nothing will stop it. Your own actions and decisions might delay it for a while, but the Universe will put things in motion, according to your manifestations. This will happen with or without your participation.


Change is never easy, especially when it comes to relationships that we have with people. It's even harder when you recognize what changes you have to make in yourself to fulfill your purpose. With that comes admitting to yourself that you've played a role in your own spiritual and energetic "paralysis", as it were. It isn't easy to accept that you've harboring toxic behavior, either your own or from others. Admitting that you can't make the hard decisions that would greatly increase your chances of fulfilling your purpose can be a serious gut check. But once you accept the change that is necessary, whether you facilitate it or someone else does, the Universe will see to it that your manifestations become reality.



"New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings". -Lao Tzu


And to the Universe, I say "Thank You", regardless of how painful this process has been.