Where have I been? Where am I now? Where am I going?

Recently I have been reading about race relations in the United States, more specifically the African American experience throughout history in this country.  I just finished a book entitled Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome by Joy Degruy Leary. In the book I was exposed to the truths about what made the Atlantic slave trade so vicious and so different from slavery throughout history. A summation of what I learned is that slavery in other countries and in history didn't treat slaves as property and were set free after some time. Also the slaves children were free and the manner in which they became slaves were a lot of times due to warfare. In  America slave trade was a business and my ancestors were treated like property, the children were slaves and those children's children were also slaves. Chattel slavery as it is called. This book took me on an emotional journey within myself to figure out where I stood as a black man in the Americas. The book not only brought to life the horrors of the physical and the psychological damage slavery and racism has done in the Americas but also how that trauma is still reverberating today.The best part about the book is that is gives hope to the future, it informs you of what has happened and then allows you to take control of your own personal situation and make it better. That is where I am today.
Where have I been? I asked myself many times while reading the book I just mentioned. It's not like I awoke a week ago and learned about slavery and racism, I'm not an uninformed closed minded person at all. I'd like to consider myself quite curious and informed. Yet I wonder why this information is effecting me so much now. I've heard Dr. King's speeches, i've seen images and videos of lynch mobs, i've read about slavery, i've seen and experience police abuse numerous times yet it's not until now do I ask myself what does it mean to be a black man in America? It's almost as if I know I should be more political and be an activist but I am not. A lot of my friends are quite outspoken on many issues that affect the world and have not only participated but organized protests and the like, yet I was absent at all of them. I know it's not a bad thing that i'm not the one holding the flag, I mean I vote, I read, I'm aware of how i'm getting screwed over by my government and how much pain and oppression is in the world. I guess I was just too young to care, I always said it didn't really affect me. I really wanted to go to the march on Washington when W. was going into Iraq, but I was still in high school and never kissed a girl yet. I wasn't about to steal money out of my mom's purse and take a bus down to D.C.! Would I do that now?
Where am I now? I believe I am in a place where I would put my comforts in jeopardy for the greater good of creating change and standing up for what I believe in. In a previous post I give Obama two thumbs down for his inability to abuse his power like W. did and just fix things up. Okay I was venting because I was pissed about my student loans and my job situation, but what else is a guy to do when he's in debt so far over his head with nothing to show for it, I felt as is my education was funded by a bunch of goons.I still think I'd have been better off going to a community college or taking a loan from the Gotti family instead of Sallie Mae- the real gangsters. But, I digress, Obama is doing what he can. This country has such a messed up system I'm surprised anything can get done. I think the real definition of bureaucracy is wait ten years to end up in the same place you started. What does this have to do with my original point of standing up for what I believe in? Well now I have my priorities in order.There is no reason to be mad at some guy who has only had a year to try and fix something that took eight years to fuck up. I should be mad at the company that screws over their employees or police officers that abuse their power. What I'm trying to say is I can't run this country, yet, so let me get my voice out to the levels of evil that I can deal with. I'm not powerless I just need to pick my battles. So once again, where am I now? I am a self-aware 23 year old working in Harlem as a receptionist for a non- profit that helps the community. I'm not making much money but I'm eating well and will hopefully be moving out of my parents place soon. I think my new-found internal epiphany in terms of my stance on being black in America couldn't have come soon enough. I can't fault myself for not being more of an activist when I was 17 just like you can't fault yourself for not knowing how to read when you were one. Everyone starts somewhere, and if you look at yourself you weren't born that way either. I'm still very young. Maybe i'm just feeling more political because i'm at a point in my life where I can truly take control of it financially which means I can go where I want, live where I want and get into what ever trouble I want. I do what I want!
Where am I going? For starters I am going to finish reading The Souls Of Black Folk by W.E.B. Dubois, and if you haven't read it, give it a try, if you're ready. There's no use in force feeding anyone. I sought out the book when I wanted to read it. It was time. Alas I am on the verge of coming into my own skin, learning about who I really am and what I want to do with my life. Other than that I am going to continue to write, read, and breakdance when I can.

This dark forest of mine has taken root in many forms
under different labels, diverse languages and
tones.
The vines have unwoven to reveal a lucious
birth of cool. A soft helmet of velvet expression.
Welcome back dear friends, the Afro has returned.

Circle, Cirlce, Dot...Dot

Today is Valentine's Day. Everywhere couples are holding hands, gazing into each others eyes, and saying sweet nothings. O thee joy. Surprisingly it was a pleasant day in New York City, sunny enough to take a walk.  I will end with a freestyle poem.

Softly, they spoke of dining on the east side on
Sunday morning.
Together the sun melted in their eyes.
Homefries cool on the flower printed
porcelain.

...Booyah!

Beginning anew

I've dabbled in the blog world for some time now, about four or five years, to be exact. Sadly each time I started I ended up deleted it for lack of entries and lack of readership. This time I don't care. My blog isn't about trying to boost my writing career or appear to have a huge following like a Twitter account. I know almost no one will read this but that's fine with me. This blog is about me improving my discipline and writing skills.

If I were to meet President Obama.

If I were to sit down and meet with President Obama I would have to resist the urge to punch him in the face. Just because he is half-black doesn't make him my "brother." He is a dirty politician just like the rest of the people that run this country. I would tell him to reform education and make it possible for me and my peers to go to school without being debt for most of our adult lives. I would demand school to become more affordable and to increase opportunities in public schools. I personally think I got shafted in attended NYC public schools. When I first went to college I realized the gap between me and my new peers was staggering. I felt as if I almost went from junior high school straight into a bachelors program. I say that now because even after graduating I still have no focus and no desire in any sort of profession. I chose Creative Writing because I liked to read and I had a crush on a girl that did Slam Poetry in high school. It turned out I was somewhat good at it and I had experience on stage from drama so I stuck with it. I have since become disillusioned with Slam Poetry because anyone can talk with emphasis and a hip-hop twang, but in the end it boils down to who lived a life closest to the main character in "Precious" to get the sympathy vote.How can I compete against a poem about a personal experience with rape, it makes my poem about educational reform or love seem trivial. So, at the end of the day I am writing in this to see if I truly want to be a writer and see if I really have what it takes. Does anyone really care what I have to say? Do I have stories that need to be told? Is my imagination enough to keep you interested? I don't know but I will continue to write in this blog until something better comes along...