"I guess I shoulda known
By the way you parked your car sideways
That it wouldn't last
See you're the kinda person
That believes in makin' out once
Love 'em and leave 'em fast"
Little Red Corvette-Prince
Something people never ask me but may not have the words to ask is how did I get HIV, especially at a young age. I think when you get a disease there's a perception that you must be "fast", "a player" or a "hoe". In my case I didn't fit none of those categories. In fact when I first got it I was a quiet shy person who kept to myself. Most of that was because I had low self-esteem. I would walk with my head down to the ground and had a hard time looking people in the eyes when talking to them. It was a mix I believe of being a child victim of sexual abuse, being confused about my identitiy and the way I was raised by my mother.
My mother's part was that at the time I had two other siblings and they knew their father's name and where they lived. I didn't. I never knew my father and each year she would give me a different name when I asked what his name was. One year he was in prison, the next he was dead and the following year he was living in Oklahoma. He must have treated her wrong and I had the misfortune of reminding her of him as she verbally abused me whenever she could. I truly at one point I thought my name was YoustupidmotherfuckerIwishInever had you Guess. But most people knew me as Aundaray.
In high school I was the class clown, as I learned it was easier to hide your pain by hiding behind jokes. People who knew me in high school saw the class clown but when the bell rang and I walked home from school I was this walking introverted beacon.
I walked the same way to and from school and always saw this red corvette. The only reason it stood out because it was such a bright red color. I lived a block from Selby?Dale which wasn't like it is today with organic fruit stores and white people. back then it was a place where you went for your drug fix or to pick up a prostitute.So the clean color red stood out as everything around it was gritty. I figured it was coincidence but then I started to see it more and more when I was walking home from school. Although I don't have proof I think one day he timed it so that he approached the corner as I was crossing. He said hello and complimented me on my clothes and from there it was a session of 20 questions. I don't know what made me open myself to him but I think looking back when you don't feel value and you have someone giving value to you, no matter how they look and their intentions, you grab on it like it's a twenty dollar bill blowing down the street. We got to a point where he wanted to show me his record store. He had to had been in his mid twenties and like a lost puppy I agreed. His store was really a empty place where records probably once were. I knew in the back of mind what he wanted but again as a former person of sex abuse you sometimes have this perception that saying hello involved the giving of your body.
Sure enough it was what I thought and he made his move when we were alone. It was the first time for me. He was the first. Like my father I didn't know his name. Afterward I never saw the car again as I guess he got what he wanted and I was relieved as I was scared about what happened. I felt guilty.
A few months passed and I got sick like a dog. It was weird as I had never been a person who ever got sick. Even when I didn't want to go to school and would sleep with my head in the wintry window hoping to catch a cold but only ended up clearing my sinuses. So this sickness was weird as for a week I was in bed. Not long afterward I saw a story in the newspaper of the person who I had my first account with. He was in the St. Paul Pioneer Press and he was trying to rob a bank and in the process of being arrested he told the cops he would bite them as he had AIDS. In my naive thinking I was shocked more that he tried to rob a bank and didn't focus on the AIDS comment as at that time I didn't know how you could get it. I learned several years later how you can get it as I was diagnosed with it.
I knew who gave it to me as I had only one encounter and when they say it only takes one time it's true.
I think when people ask why so many young people are getting infected today I can guarantee you that most of the times the person who infected them is at least ten years older than you. When you're looking for that acceptance you give off a light that others can see and prey upon.That's why i think it's so important to nurture young people and give them that value because someone else with their own goals will.
I never knew his name but I did know two things.
He gave me AIDS and he drove a red corvette.
Prince was never so right.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Can I Get an Amen and Sex on the Side
I just have to say something about the recent revelation of Bishop Eddie Long who has been accused of coercing young men to have sex with him. Copy and paste the link for the full story. http://ac360.blogs.cnn.com/2010/09/23/evening-buzz-bishop-sex-scandal/?iref=allsearch
I'm not going to play judge, jury and executioner but often when it comes to the gay lifestyle, they do the same to us. If you're gay often the preachings of the churches demonize and stigmatize those who are gay. Looking at black churches, which I'm more familiar with I have to say that I have experienced this first hand.
I was raised in a religious environment. In fact my grandfather was a pastor who owned his own church that he built himself and as kids we had no choice of not attending. So God has always been a big part of the tapestry of who I am. My mother made it known to us as kids that if we ever turn out gay "she'll kill us". This was said to all of us, my siblings included, but it felt like it was meant for me. As I got older and struggling with my identity I wished I had the same black churches I frequented to give me hope, instead I was literally each time I was told I was going to hell if I didn't flick the switch on my back and go straight.
Bishop Eddie Long represents what's wrong with the black churches and gay identity. For gays, we're hated during the day but lusted for at night. Black churches have so much power and responsibility to welcome all God's children, yet like the old "No Coloreds Allowed", we have "No Gays Allowed". Living in Harlem you can't throw a quarter without hitting a church as there are plenty and yet also these same churches sit in the epicenter of a community that has the highest rates of AIDS/HIV. The silence of the black churches is deafening. And in a way it's sad that the only time a black church will listen to the message of a gay men is that he first must dress in drag and call himself Madea. Almost like the modern day of blackface, an entertainer to make us laugh.
As a young man living on my own I wanted to stay connected to the church, yet it never failed that when I would go eventually the preacher would sermon about the gay sexuality and how we're going to hell. And for me it was almost like the message was directed to me, similar to the message my mother directed to me.
And it's ironic that in the churches I briefly frequented you would listen to the choir and I'm not trying to be stereotypical here but it seemed that for me my gaydar would be blasting. It was sometimes obvious the choir was made up of gay singers and the choir director made you tilt your head as well. And they would sing their song after a sermon of them going to hell. Basically to me they were singing at their own funeral. Yet on the other hand some gays continue that relationship knowing the price and knowing that they needed a house of worship.
Do I go to church now? No but I learned I didn't need a building to talk to God. God and I talk everyday and everywhere. And unlike some who go to church on a Sunday and don't practice the teachings of God until the next Sunday, a true person of faith knows that church is everyday. I learned that just because you highlight passages in your bible doesn't make you a religious person. Just as sitting in a garage all day doesn't make you a car. You just have a marked book and a elephant in your building that is not being talked about.
Finishing with Bishop Eddie Long he represents the hypocrisy of black churches as he has constantly attacked homosexuality. Instead of saving he was helping someone dig a grave. Now look at him. I guess it's true when they say what you do in the dark will eventually come to light. Instead of hiding behind his spin control machine he will see the light and see that no matter what or who you are we all are a child of God. And for those churches out there that recognizes this and accept us as we are I thank you but seriously for my black churches we need to get our head out the sand as your flock is slowly dying and it's because of two four letter words, HATE and AIDS. Scriptures should elevate not denigrate!
I'm not going to play judge, jury and executioner but often when it comes to the gay lifestyle, they do the same to us. If you're gay often the preachings of the churches demonize and stigmatize those who are gay. Looking at black churches, which I'm more familiar with I have to say that I have experienced this first hand.
I was raised in a religious environment. In fact my grandfather was a pastor who owned his own church that he built himself and as kids we had no choice of not attending. So God has always been a big part of the tapestry of who I am. My mother made it known to us as kids that if we ever turn out gay "she'll kill us". This was said to all of us, my siblings included, but it felt like it was meant for me. As I got older and struggling with my identity I wished I had the same black churches I frequented to give me hope, instead I was literally each time I was told I was going to hell if I didn't flick the switch on my back and go straight.
Bishop Eddie Long represents what's wrong with the black churches and gay identity. For gays, we're hated during the day but lusted for at night. Black churches have so much power and responsibility to welcome all God's children, yet like the old "No Coloreds Allowed", we have "No Gays Allowed". Living in Harlem you can't throw a quarter without hitting a church as there are plenty and yet also these same churches sit in the epicenter of a community that has the highest rates of AIDS/HIV. The silence of the black churches is deafening. And in a way it's sad that the only time a black church will listen to the message of a gay men is that he first must dress in drag and call himself Madea. Almost like the modern day of blackface, an entertainer to make us laugh.
As a young man living on my own I wanted to stay connected to the church, yet it never failed that when I would go eventually the preacher would sermon about the gay sexuality and how we're going to hell. And for me it was almost like the message was directed to me, similar to the message my mother directed to me.
And it's ironic that in the churches I briefly frequented you would listen to the choir and I'm not trying to be stereotypical here but it seemed that for me my gaydar would be blasting. It was sometimes obvious the choir was made up of gay singers and the choir director made you tilt your head as well. And they would sing their song after a sermon of them going to hell. Basically to me they were singing at their own funeral. Yet on the other hand some gays continue that relationship knowing the price and knowing that they needed a house of worship.
Do I go to church now? No but I learned I didn't need a building to talk to God. God and I talk everyday and everywhere. And unlike some who go to church on a Sunday and don't practice the teachings of God until the next Sunday, a true person of faith knows that church is everyday. I learned that just because you highlight passages in your bible doesn't make you a religious person. Just as sitting in a garage all day doesn't make you a car. You just have a marked book and a elephant in your building that is not being talked about.
Finishing with Bishop Eddie Long he represents the hypocrisy of black churches as he has constantly attacked homosexuality. Instead of saving he was helping someone dig a grave. Now look at him. I guess it's true when they say what you do in the dark will eventually come to light. Instead of hiding behind his spin control machine he will see the light and see that no matter what or who you are we all are a child of God. And for those churches out there that recognizes this and accept us as we are I thank you but seriously for my black churches we need to get our head out the sand as your flock is slowly dying and it's because of two four letter words, HATE and AIDS. Scriptures should elevate not denigrate!
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
When I Learned I Was Black
Up until the age of my early teens I never knew that I was black. It wasn't that I was turning my back on my color but society had yet to get a hand on me and tell me I was black. I was born in Oklahoma City, actually in the country on a farm. My earliest memories was riding our neighbor horses, feeding the pigs and running in the fields with no shoes. At night we would catch firebugs in a jar or build on our collection of tadpoles. I was just being a kid.
I think my first incident of race was when I was a young boy and I was about to cross the street. A white man in a car stopped for me and waved for me to go on. I proceeded to do so and he jerked the car as if to hit me. I jumped and he had the biggest smile. He did it again and this time had a full laugh going. But even then I didn't associate it to my color. I just thought he was a jerk.
I didn't learn I was black until we moved to Minnesota. This was in the mid 70's. If you don't know although demographics have changed today, when we moved there as a child, the percentage of white was 98% and I was the other. I went to elementary school in Phalen Lake which was in St. Paul, the far end, which was very white. I say that because I never saw another person of color except for myself. Even then race didn't enter my equation. But I had an incident that made me know I was different.
I had a huge afro as a child and at the time was waiting in line for lunch with other classmates. I had a pencil and placed it in my afro. The next thing I knew there was this scream from this girl and the other kids gathered around me. They all had a puzzled look as they believed the pencil was pushed in my skull. This was there first time they dealt with someone with an afro. Of course I took the attention to the extreme and when I pulled it out I made sure to make it look like it hurt like hell. I still remember this girl running down the hall.
I was different.
It was also the time when Roots, the miniseries was shown on TV. I just remember watching it and at a young elementary age I was angry at anyone white. I never knew how little value you had. I think I may have even scared some teachers as I dared them to mess with me especially after watching an episode of Roots.
As i got older it became more obvious I was black Especially as a teen I would be stopped by cops asking for my id saying I looked like a suspect just called in, or experience a car full of people driving by calling me "nigger" as they drove by. then the stores I used to go to, all of a sudden I was being stared at at the end of the aisle or sometimes just outright followed.
I really feel that in schools today they should have a curriculum on Racism 101 for young black males to go through to prepare them from when they transition from the 'cute phase' into the 'threat phase'. What I mean by that is when we're young holding our mother's hand we're cute, but when we reach that age were we travel on our own and sometimes gather with our friends, then we become a possible threat.
We are boxed and labeled and given boundaries, both mental and physical. We learned while growing up in Minnesota where as black youth we should avoid areas such as Highland Park where it as a 'rich' area and any black person over there would be arrested. And if we ventured into NE Minneapolis we were playing with our lives as they didn't allows blacks there. Again this was in the late 70's/early 80's so there has been changes but one thing that hasn't changed is that as a black youth you are labeled, targeted and only made visible when you stand still with others of your race in a group.
But my message to any young black man is to not let anyone make you feel inferior based on the color of your skin. And know that this whole world belongs to you as well and you should never have to ask for respect because why would you ask for something that belongs to you anyway. And if anything don't live your life in a box. Don't think you can't go to certain neighborhoods or businesses or events just because of the color of your skin. I see so many teenagers who deny themselves a full life because of the color of their skin.
Don't let others form your identity, beat them to the punch!!
Even as adults we sometimes stay in those boxes.
Remember "laundry is the only thing that should be separated by color"
I think my first incident of race was when I was a young boy and I was about to cross the street. A white man in a car stopped for me and waved for me to go on. I proceeded to do so and he jerked the car as if to hit me. I jumped and he had the biggest smile. He did it again and this time had a full laugh going. But even then I didn't associate it to my color. I just thought he was a jerk.
I didn't learn I was black until we moved to Minnesota. This was in the mid 70's. If you don't know although demographics have changed today, when we moved there as a child, the percentage of white was 98% and I was the other. I went to elementary school in Phalen Lake which was in St. Paul, the far end, which was very white. I say that because I never saw another person of color except for myself. Even then race didn't enter my equation. But I had an incident that made me know I was different.
I had a huge afro as a child and at the time was waiting in line for lunch with other classmates. I had a pencil and placed it in my afro. The next thing I knew there was this scream from this girl and the other kids gathered around me. They all had a puzzled look as they believed the pencil was pushed in my skull. This was there first time they dealt with someone with an afro. Of course I took the attention to the extreme and when I pulled it out I made sure to make it look like it hurt like hell. I still remember this girl running down the hall.
I was different.
It was also the time when Roots, the miniseries was shown on TV. I just remember watching it and at a young elementary age I was angry at anyone white. I never knew how little value you had. I think I may have even scared some teachers as I dared them to mess with me especially after watching an episode of Roots.
As i got older it became more obvious I was black Especially as a teen I would be stopped by cops asking for my id saying I looked like a suspect just called in, or experience a car full of people driving by calling me "nigger" as they drove by. then the stores I used to go to, all of a sudden I was being stared at at the end of the aisle or sometimes just outright followed.
I really feel that in schools today they should have a curriculum on Racism 101 for young black males to go through to prepare them from when they transition from the 'cute phase' into the 'threat phase'. What I mean by that is when we're young holding our mother's hand we're cute, but when we reach that age were we travel on our own and sometimes gather with our friends, then we become a possible threat.
We are boxed and labeled and given boundaries, both mental and physical. We learned while growing up in Minnesota where as black youth we should avoid areas such as Highland Park where it as a 'rich' area and any black person over there would be arrested. And if we ventured into NE Minneapolis we were playing with our lives as they didn't allows blacks there. Again this was in the late 70's/early 80's so there has been changes but one thing that hasn't changed is that as a black youth you are labeled, targeted and only made visible when you stand still with others of your race in a group.
But my message to any young black man is to not let anyone make you feel inferior based on the color of your skin. And know that this whole world belongs to you as well and you should never have to ask for respect because why would you ask for something that belongs to you anyway. And if anything don't live your life in a box. Don't think you can't go to certain neighborhoods or businesses or events just because of the color of your skin. I see so many teenagers who deny themselves a full life because of the color of their skin.
Don't let others form your identity, beat them to the punch!!
Even as adults we sometimes stay in those boxes.
Remember "laundry is the only thing that should be separated by color"
Monday, September 20, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
You have the Bug!!
"You have AIDS, Goodbye."
The year was 1987 and I was living on my own after finally finding a studio apartment. Before then I was couch-surfing as I was kicked out of my home the week after I graduated. Me and my mother never had the best relationship and she told me in the 10th grade that when I graduated I was getting out of her house. Sure enough she kept to her promise. i was homeless for awhile and couch-surfing. Luckily after awhile I got on a housing list and because of my situation was bumped to the top of the list of housing. During that time they had a surplus of senior apartments that were empty so they moved me into a senior home as I said before it was in a studio. It was an interesting experience and to this day I hate the smell of Ben-Gay and Old Spice and steer clear of Bingo which was played everyday in the community center.
It was nice to have my own but rent still needed to be payed and my dreams of going to college was deferred as I had to worry about making money. I did good for a long while. My meals sometimes consisted of pancakes in the morning and also for dinner. And I'm talking about the instant type that you only added water to. The other kind where you added eggs and oil was a luxury. I also switched between Ramen Noodles and I don't care what no one says but no matter what flavor the seasoning is, they all taste the same.
It was then that I saw the commercial for the Army Reserve. It was near the holiday season and if I couldn't buy anyone else anything I could at least get me something.
Be All That You Can Be.
That was the Army motto. Plus it was just for the weekends so it seemed like easy money for me.
When I applied I was in a room with other men who looked like they were familiar with Ramen Noodles. At one point I asked myself what I was doing here as i was supposed to be a famous actor by now based on my strong interest in high school. But like all dreams you eventually have to wake up and deal with the reality.
It was interesting because this huge guy told us all after passing the writing test that this was the first year they were going to do blood tests for this thing called AIDS. I had heard about it and remember Rock Hudson having it while he was on the soap opera Dynasty, but I didn't think I had anything to worry about because it seemed only white people were getting it. I should have known something was up when they drew my blood the first time and called me back for another blood draw. I remember the other guys laughing saying I must have the bug. I chalked it off.
A week later I get a registered letter. I felt important as someone was sending me something I had to sign for. Was the Army sending me a sign-up bonus? If so it was just in time as Christmas was two weeks away. Instead it was from the Army stating they wanted to see me in their office. Like a good soldier I followed orders and will never forget being lead into this huge office. There was a uniformed, decorated man and he was standing before a huge window and outside you could see the snow falling down. There was no long dialouge and it was straight to the point.
"You have AIDS, Goodbye."
Just like that. No explanation, no sympathy no telling me what AIDS was, and here it was almost Christmas.
I took the bus home and it was the longest ride and the Christmas spirit everyone was showing passed me by.
Let me telling you about living alone. Sometimes it's great as you can do whatever you want to do and other times it's a silent tomb with walls.
It was 1987. I was in the closet and the Christmas lights blinking on my wall illuminated my lost.
God was on the peripheral of my life and my family was close by distance but far from my heart. I had AIDS and wasn't even twenty. One good thing is, is that I didn't have credit cards because i would have maxed them out as I felt i wouldn't be here to have to pay them off.
But God have plans he doesn't share with you right away. He never told me that I was still going to be here 24 years later.
But now that I am God has become the center of who i am and I'm still here because I realized when it comes to life, no matter what situation you're in , you have two choices. To live or to die.
Like the line in the movie The Color Purple.
"I may be black, I even may be ugly but I'm here. I'm still here!!"
Stay positive!!
The year was 1987 and I was living on my own after finally finding a studio apartment. Before then I was couch-surfing as I was kicked out of my home the week after I graduated. Me and my mother never had the best relationship and she told me in the 10th grade that when I graduated I was getting out of her house. Sure enough she kept to her promise. i was homeless for awhile and couch-surfing. Luckily after awhile I got on a housing list and because of my situation was bumped to the top of the list of housing. During that time they had a surplus of senior apartments that were empty so they moved me into a senior home as I said before it was in a studio. It was an interesting experience and to this day I hate the smell of Ben-Gay and Old Spice and steer clear of Bingo which was played everyday in the community center.
It was nice to have my own but rent still needed to be payed and my dreams of going to college was deferred as I had to worry about making money. I did good for a long while. My meals sometimes consisted of pancakes in the morning and also for dinner. And I'm talking about the instant type that you only added water to. The other kind where you added eggs and oil was a luxury. I also switched between Ramen Noodles and I don't care what no one says but no matter what flavor the seasoning is, they all taste the same.
It was then that I saw the commercial for the Army Reserve. It was near the holiday season and if I couldn't buy anyone else anything I could at least get me something.
Be All That You Can Be.
That was the Army motto. Plus it was just for the weekends so it seemed like easy money for me.
When I applied I was in a room with other men who looked like they were familiar with Ramen Noodles. At one point I asked myself what I was doing here as i was supposed to be a famous actor by now based on my strong interest in high school. But like all dreams you eventually have to wake up and deal with the reality.
It was interesting because this huge guy told us all after passing the writing test that this was the first year they were going to do blood tests for this thing called AIDS. I had heard about it and remember Rock Hudson having it while he was on the soap opera Dynasty, but I didn't think I had anything to worry about because it seemed only white people were getting it. I should have known something was up when they drew my blood the first time and called me back for another blood draw. I remember the other guys laughing saying I must have the bug. I chalked it off.
A week later I get a registered letter. I felt important as someone was sending me something I had to sign for. Was the Army sending me a sign-up bonus? If so it was just in time as Christmas was two weeks away. Instead it was from the Army stating they wanted to see me in their office. Like a good soldier I followed orders and will never forget being lead into this huge office. There was a uniformed, decorated man and he was standing before a huge window and outside you could see the snow falling down. There was no long dialouge and it was straight to the point.
"You have AIDS, Goodbye."
Just like that. No explanation, no sympathy no telling me what AIDS was, and here it was almost Christmas.
I took the bus home and it was the longest ride and the Christmas spirit everyone was showing passed me by.
Let me telling you about living alone. Sometimes it's great as you can do whatever you want to do and other times it's a silent tomb with walls.
It was 1987. I was in the closet and the Christmas lights blinking on my wall illuminated my lost.
God was on the peripheral of my life and my family was close by distance but far from my heart. I had AIDS and wasn't even twenty. One good thing is, is that I didn't have credit cards because i would have maxed them out as I felt i wouldn't be here to have to pay them off.
But God have plans he doesn't share with you right away. He never told me that I was still going to be here 24 years later.
But now that I am God has become the center of who i am and I'm still here because I realized when it comes to life, no matter what situation you're in , you have two choices. To live or to die.
Like the line in the movie The Color Purple.
"I may be black, I even may be ugly but I'm here. I'm still here!!"
Stay positive!!
Monday, September 13, 2010
Black Men Bumping Shoulders
I recently had an episode where I accidentally bumped into a brotha. It was a clear accident but the look he gave me was of murder and disgust. No it was hate. It opened up something that has always bothered me, the black on black crime that destroy neighborhoods and families. What causes us to exhibit so much hate against each other, actually I know the answer which goes all the way back to slavery days but I'm also reminded of a quote Dr. Benjamin Mays stated,
I believed to this day that Negroes in my country fought among themselves because they were taking out on other Negroes what they really wanted but feared to take out on whites. It was difficult, virtually impossible to combine manhood and blackness under one skin in the days of my youth. To exercise manhood, as white men displayed it, was to invite disaster.
This quote resonated with me as I feel as black men we feel we always have to fight for our manhood and to show it is dangerous. We see ourselves in the media as monsters or leading the newscast as either a victim or a perpetrator and we start to believe that's who we are. It was never this way. We used to be united. The following is a poem I wrote that that describes this scenario.
When did we move...away
When did we move when we stood next to each other dancing to the sounds of our culture, standing tall on the earth of out heritage, my brothers, together in unison
When did we move...away
When they captured us and put us together like livestock, no my fault, the livestock traveled better than us. As we were layered on top of each other, sharing sweat, pain and tears. Sharing our fears of what's to come and what was being left behind. Holding each other, shedding tears in each other arms, holding on to each other even the spirit had left the body, my brotha was free.
When did we move away...
When we stood in line, our manhood sold off to the highest bidder. My shoulder pressed against yours, my hands holding yours, saying be strong brotha, no matter what, be strong. I let you cry, you let me cry. We cried together as stolen men standing on stolen land.
When did we move away....
When we stitched our strength together and told them no more. when they arrived in covered sheets trailing blood stained ropes of our brotha's behind them. when the air of unjust laws was pumped in our chest and the value of our worth was less than the dirt that covered our bare feet. Yet we were still rich as you called on me and I called on you.
When did we move away...
When we walked together looking for the promised land. The jagged teeth of dogs tearing into our flesh, the sting of the water feeling like thrown needles on our back, our faces, our lives. I never left your side because we knew we would overcome and that no matter what we endured, we would not be undone.
When did we move....away
When we stood together, our fists pumped in the air. We took care of ours and didn't expect anything from anyone whose afro didn't fit the ovalness of the moon
Say it loud
I'm black and I'm proud
Say it loud...my brotha
when did we move....away
When we endured America's history as one.
When did we move..away
Was it when the snow started to fall on our neighborhoods, crystallizing into lost dreams to only disappear into our veins. Was it when we saw the door was left open and the fathers of fathers started to walk through them, walking away from the cries of a young mind. Was it Reganomics? Don't ask, don't tell? Or the weapons of mass destruction that made us come undone?
When did we move....away
From each other brotha
My
Nigger
Or does it really make a difference that it ends in an 'a'
The spirit of my ancestors tell me it still sounds the same as his last breath escaped from him into the gathered crowd that found sport in his passing
Yet now we use it as our glue of endearment, attempting to claim ownership of it, when we don't even try to own our own dreams.
When did we move...away
Are you talking to me nigga? Who you looking at? You got something to say? You got beef? You stupid nigga. I should smoke your ass.
And when will we come back?
By Aundaray Guess
I believed to this day that Negroes in my country fought among themselves because they were taking out on other Negroes what they really wanted but feared to take out on whites. It was difficult, virtually impossible to combine manhood and blackness under one skin in the days of my youth. To exercise manhood, as white men displayed it, was to invite disaster.
This quote resonated with me as I feel as black men we feel we always have to fight for our manhood and to show it is dangerous. We see ourselves in the media as monsters or leading the newscast as either a victim or a perpetrator and we start to believe that's who we are. It was never this way. We used to be united. The following is a poem I wrote that that describes this scenario.
When did we move...away
When did we move when we stood next to each other dancing to the sounds of our culture, standing tall on the earth of out heritage, my brothers, together in unison
When did we move...away
When they captured us and put us together like livestock, no my fault, the livestock traveled better than us. As we were layered on top of each other, sharing sweat, pain and tears. Sharing our fears of what's to come and what was being left behind. Holding each other, shedding tears in each other arms, holding on to each other even the spirit had left the body, my brotha was free.
When did we move away...
When we stood in line, our manhood sold off to the highest bidder. My shoulder pressed against yours, my hands holding yours, saying be strong brotha, no matter what, be strong. I let you cry, you let me cry. We cried together as stolen men standing on stolen land.
When did we move away....
When we stitched our strength together and told them no more. when they arrived in covered sheets trailing blood stained ropes of our brotha's behind them. when the air of unjust laws was pumped in our chest and the value of our worth was less than the dirt that covered our bare feet. Yet we were still rich as you called on me and I called on you.
When did we move away...
When we walked together looking for the promised land. The jagged teeth of dogs tearing into our flesh, the sting of the water feeling like thrown needles on our back, our faces, our lives. I never left your side because we knew we would overcome and that no matter what we endured, we would not be undone.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
10 Years
I can't believe it but my partner and I have just celebrated being together for ten years. In gay life compared to straights I think it's more like 40. If someone had told me I was going to be in a committed relationship with someone for ten years I would have told them it was crazy and impossible.
I won't lie, when I was young I didn't know what a relationship was.I didn't even know how to spell it properly. But I wanted to be in one and was actually in several but the minute a problem or argument came up, I was out of there. That was my first lesson, that a relationship is not just the good times but being able to ride the storm together no matter what it is.
Yet in my early days like I said before, if things were rocky I headed for the exit.Also I was under the impression as a gay man that I was supposed to hump everything. It seemed that, that's what everyone around me was doing. I didn't have no examples of someone in a long term relationship, so I didn't think such a thing was possible. So in essence I'll call it what it was, I was a hoe.Yet in hindsight there was nothing wrong with that, because I was a young man and not ready to settle down. I think we don't allow ourselves that freedom of exploring our sexually being. We feel that we have to have someone to be complete. I mean you spent all your life living under your parent's roof and now you're free and we need that freedom to explore who we are and what we want.We sometimes deny ourselves that freedom.
The second lesson I learned about relationships is that they are hard. You actually have to share. Not just of yourself but things like what television show you're going to watch and who gets the remote, what and where you're going to eat for dinner, who's turn it is to wash the dishes. And the hardest thing for me was having to talk after a long day at work. As a single man I was so used to going home and relaxing in front of the TV, but now I had someone who wanted to break that routine and ask how my day was and all other conversations that I just didn't have the energy to share. At least let me clear a show off my DVR before we talk!
Relationships are about compromising and thanks to my current partner he helped me to know what that meant. To this day people can't believe that we didn't have sex on the first date. I couldn't believe it myself. But he was older and wanted to wait until six months before we had sex. Was he crazy!! In my gay world, we had sex first, then I learned your name, then we decided if we wanted to see each other again and whether the context was going to be just for sex or outdoor events. Looking back it was the best thing for me as during those six months we became good friends and it feels good knowing our relationship is built on a foundation of friendship and not how we perform sexually.
Don't get me wrong there are still days when we have our hissy fight but we allow each other to have that space and then come back together instead of running away.
So Joel thank you for the ten years of sharing and for those who haven't found it, it'll happen, sometimes when you're not looking. Just allow yourself to love and remember no matter who you meet they will not be perfect. And also be careful what you ask for. You want that relationship but I repeat it's some work!!
But good luck and live your life positively!
I won't lie, when I was young I didn't know what a relationship was.I didn't even know how to spell it properly. But I wanted to be in one and was actually in several but the minute a problem or argument came up, I was out of there. That was my first lesson, that a relationship is not just the good times but being able to ride the storm together no matter what it is.
Yet in my early days like I said before, if things were rocky I headed for the exit.Also I was under the impression as a gay man that I was supposed to hump everything. It seemed that, that's what everyone around me was doing. I didn't have no examples of someone in a long term relationship, so I didn't think such a thing was possible. So in essence I'll call it what it was, I was a hoe.Yet in hindsight there was nothing wrong with that, because I was a young man and not ready to settle down. I think we don't allow ourselves that freedom of exploring our sexually being. We feel that we have to have someone to be complete. I mean you spent all your life living under your parent's roof and now you're free and we need that freedom to explore who we are and what we want.We sometimes deny ourselves that freedom.
The second lesson I learned about relationships is that they are hard. You actually have to share. Not just of yourself but things like what television show you're going to watch and who gets the remote, what and where you're going to eat for dinner, who's turn it is to wash the dishes. And the hardest thing for me was having to talk after a long day at work. As a single man I was so used to going home and relaxing in front of the TV, but now I had someone who wanted to break that routine and ask how my day was and all other conversations that I just didn't have the energy to share. At least let me clear a show off my DVR before we talk!
Relationships are about compromising and thanks to my current partner he helped me to know what that meant. To this day people can't believe that we didn't have sex on the first date. I couldn't believe it myself. But he was older and wanted to wait until six months before we had sex. Was he crazy!! In my gay world, we had sex first, then I learned your name, then we decided if we wanted to see each other again and whether the context was going to be just for sex or outdoor events. Looking back it was the best thing for me as during those six months we became good friends and it feels good knowing our relationship is built on a foundation of friendship and not how we perform sexually.
Don't get me wrong there are still days when we have our hissy fight but we allow each other to have that space and then come back together instead of running away.
So Joel thank you for the ten years of sharing and for those who haven't found it, it'll happen, sometimes when you're not looking. Just allow yourself to love and remember no matter who you meet they will not be perfect. And also be careful what you ask for. You want that relationship but I repeat it's some work!!
But good luck and live your life positively!
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Learning to Breathe Again
I have learned to breathe again. I have learned to laugh. Let the small things slide off my shoulder. Let myself be free and most of all accept and like the person I see in the mirror each day. It didn't used to be that way. I had so much hate, not only toward others but I had the most destructive hate. The one anger directed to myself.
What was I angry about?
I took me awhile to figure it out but I recognized that most of the anger was letting others dictate my life. Not only friends and family but also strangers. I walked out the door wondering what they thought about me. Did I walk funny? Was I ugly? Was I fat? Was I skinny? Was I worthy? It got to the point where I was so anxious of being in a crowded place with strangers as it felt like they were all judging me. Almost like a case of undiagnosed schizophrenia.
I remember in high school that even the simple act of crossing a red light used to make my heart beat like crazy as I walked past the stopped cars. I wondered what the people behind the wheel or their passengers thought of me. I would sweat and just couldn't wait to cross the light to get away from their judgment. Even in my twenties and thirties standing in long lines were the worst especially if if it was a retail store or a grocery store. Everyone else would look so cool and calm and here I was sweating bullet, anxious. It was like I stole something. It just felt like they all had a target on my back.
Looking back and getting to a place where I addressed the issue I recognized that it all went back to my childhood. I think most of our negative experiences in life there's always some connection on how we were treated or experienced as a child.
For me it was the child abuse I experienced. Something I never shared with anyone and didn't even tell myself not until I was in my late twenties. The walls I had placed before me to block it out, slowly started to develop cracks until finally it came crashing down and all the memories flooded back. Most of my young life I had blocked it out as if it had never happened. But it did happen, for two years by a relative who would babysit us as kids.
I never connected the fact that I was experiencing post traumatic experience and the way it showed for me was to seek acceptance from everyone I crossed paths with.
I have to say after numerous therapist and psychologists and anti-depressants and anxiety medicine, I finally told myself five simple words that changed my life.
You didn't do anything wrong!!
Looking back I realize that I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't ask for the treatment and as unfortunate as it was, for me to grow I had to let it go. I think sometimes we don't want to let something like that go because we're scared of the empty space it will leave. But that empty space is reclaimed by you. It's yours to choose how you want your life to be. You can choose to fill it wih whatever you want. I chose to fill it with laughter and freedom. I also chose to fill it with forgiveness for the person who took those years away from me.
I was no longer empty. I no longer lived my life by the judgment of other and I have to tell you living your life free is so rewarding.
Since the song came out, "Living my Life Like it's Golden"came out, people adopted it as their mantra. But if you're holding on to hurt, anger, the thought someone will take advantage of you, you're not living a golden life.
Let go.
Live!!
Start living the life you want to live.
What was I angry about?
I took me awhile to figure it out but I recognized that most of the anger was letting others dictate my life. Not only friends and family but also strangers. I walked out the door wondering what they thought about me. Did I walk funny? Was I ugly? Was I fat? Was I skinny? Was I worthy? It got to the point where I was so anxious of being in a crowded place with strangers as it felt like they were all judging me. Almost like a case of undiagnosed schizophrenia.
I remember in high school that even the simple act of crossing a red light used to make my heart beat like crazy as I walked past the stopped cars. I wondered what the people behind the wheel or their passengers thought of me. I would sweat and just couldn't wait to cross the light to get away from their judgment. Even in my twenties and thirties standing in long lines were the worst especially if if it was a retail store or a grocery store. Everyone else would look so cool and calm and here I was sweating bullet, anxious. It was like I stole something. It just felt like they all had a target on my back.
Looking back and getting to a place where I addressed the issue I recognized that it all went back to my childhood. I think most of our negative experiences in life there's always some connection on how we were treated or experienced as a child.
For me it was the child abuse I experienced. Something I never shared with anyone and didn't even tell myself not until I was in my late twenties. The walls I had placed before me to block it out, slowly started to develop cracks until finally it came crashing down and all the memories flooded back. Most of my young life I had blocked it out as if it had never happened. But it did happen, for two years by a relative who would babysit us as kids.
I never connected the fact that I was experiencing post traumatic experience and the way it showed for me was to seek acceptance from everyone I crossed paths with.
I have to say after numerous therapist and psychologists and anti-depressants and anxiety medicine, I finally told myself five simple words that changed my life.
You didn't do anything wrong!!
Looking back I realize that I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't ask for the treatment and as unfortunate as it was, for me to grow I had to let it go. I think sometimes we don't want to let something like that go because we're scared of the empty space it will leave. But that empty space is reclaimed by you. It's yours to choose how you want your life to be. You can choose to fill it wih whatever you want. I chose to fill it with laughter and freedom. I also chose to fill it with forgiveness for the person who took those years away from me.
I was no longer empty. I no longer lived my life by the judgment of other and I have to tell you living your life free is so rewarding.
Since the song came out, "Living my Life Like it's Golden"came out, people adopted it as their mantra. But if you're holding on to hurt, anger, the thought someone will take advantage of you, you're not living a golden life.
Let go.
Live!!
Start living the life you want to live.
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