I recently read an article that peaked my interest-
http://www.afro-netizen.com/2010/03/embracing-precious-the-nuances-and-truths-in-the-individual-and-collective-stories-we-tell.html
It talks about the movie Precious and how it brings a voice and solidarity to those in similar situations while at the same time brings a negative image of Blacks in the US. She makes an interesting point of the duality of impact a movie like Precious has. Part of me wants nothing to do with the film because it just perpetuates the victimization of Blacks in America and shows negative aspects of my people to an ever increasingly ignorant audience. But on the other hand it gives a voice to the voiceless and lets them know they are not alone and may stimulate some type of change and help motivate people to impliment better child care, and mental health sources for the abused and traumatized. I am leaning more toward Precious being a negative impact on the image of Blacks in America because there aren't enough movies to balance it out. I recently went to see Brooklyn's Finest and the trailers that were shown were more of the same- Black families acting crazy , drama, drama, and more drama. Even the movie, which was directed by a Black man, still managed to depict Blacks in a negative way. I realize that movies like Precious, Slum Dog Millionaire, and Maria Full of Grace, aren't there to perpetuate stereotypes. But when those are the majority of films being made which represent a cast of minorities it gives those of privelege a narrow minded view of the people being depicted. I think the movie studios need to broaden their horizons and release more positive movies as well. Most people haven't even heard of The Great Debaters, and when there is a positive movie with minorities in it there is a white hero there to guide them to glory. *Cough* Sandra Bullock *Cough*. The article goes on to say that we are in fact getting misrepresented in the media because even though there are many stories out there like Precious there are just as many successful stories of minorities that have persevered.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Peanut Butter Jelly Time
Here lies an excerpt of a story I am working on. Feedback is always welcome.
The Door by Nicholas Henderson
The door sits in the middle of the wall. It looks so unnatural. As unnatural as a door can be. It feels like it is Challenging me, taunting me, calling out to me. How did it get there? What is its purpose. I have to know. Everyday I got home from work I’d walk passed it. Right after the turnstiles to the right of the exit, there is a door. It seems to just hover there, not really a part of our world, not really attached to the wall, but over it.
I had been walking past it for years now but I just noticed it recently. Maybe I always knew it was there,but only now is it relative. One night I decided to look up and there it was- a door in the middle of the wall. It seemed to be about eight feet above the ground and made of steel or some kind of metal. Old, like 100 year old bark. I stood there and stared at it. It felt like a black hole, tearing me apart inside out, beckoning me to come toward it. I was frozen. My legs became anchors in time unable to comprehend anything that was not the door. I don’t remember a thing from that day except for the door. I got home and was a different person. My body ached. It felt as if I had just fallen off a banister and landed on my back, if felt as if I had been staring at the sun at high noon, and it felt as if I had just made love endlessly- all at the same time.
As I stood on the platform edge waiting for the train I longed the sight of the door. It was all I could think of as I looked into the tunnel’s darkness – it cut me to pieces! The longer I stood there the more I needed to see the light of the oncoming train. It was determined to take its time. Why was I here? The ground looks like a biohazard accident, something that breeds Godzilla-like creatures. I’ve never seen a color of water quite like the stagnant substance that sticks to the NYC tracks. I wonder if that’s what clogged arteries look like? I’ve got to start eating better. Is the water clean beyond the door? She deserves better, she is not “A door”, no, the Only Door. The most important door I will ever walk through.
The Door by Nicholas Henderson
The door sits in the middle of the wall. It looks so unnatural. As unnatural as a door can be. It feels like it is Challenging me, taunting me, calling out to me. How did it get there? What is its purpose. I have to know. Everyday I got home from work I’d walk passed it. Right after the turnstiles to the right of the exit, there is a door. It seems to just hover there, not really a part of our world, not really attached to the wall, but over it.
I had been walking past it for years now but I just noticed it recently. Maybe I always knew it was there,but only now is it relative. One night I decided to look up and there it was- a door in the middle of the wall. It seemed to be about eight feet above the ground and made of steel or some kind of metal. Old, like 100 year old bark. I stood there and stared at it. It felt like a black hole, tearing me apart inside out, beckoning me to come toward it. I was frozen. My legs became anchors in time unable to comprehend anything that was not the door. I don’t remember a thing from that day except for the door. I got home and was a different person. My body ached. It felt as if I had just fallen off a banister and landed on my back, if felt as if I had been staring at the sun at high noon, and it felt as if I had just made love endlessly- all at the same time.
As I stood on the platform edge waiting for the train I longed the sight of the door. It was all I could think of as I looked into the tunnel’s darkness – it cut me to pieces! The longer I stood there the more I needed to see the light of the oncoming train. It was determined to take its time. Why was I here? The ground looks like a biohazard accident, something that breeds Godzilla-like creatures. I’ve never seen a color of water quite like the stagnant substance that sticks to the NYC tracks. I wonder if that’s what clogged arteries look like? I’ve got to start eating better. Is the water clean beyond the door? She deserves better, she is not “A door”, no, the Only Door. The most important door I will ever walk through.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Walk like Molasses
I am currently accepting donations for my moving fund. I plan to move into my own place i.e. not with my parents, by this summer but if I could expedite that expedition it would be greatly appreciated. This August I will be approaching a year before a quarter of a century and I think it's about time I wake up and smell my own coffee brewing. Let's not get into details about whether or not I even drink coffee, it's the prinicipal of the matter. If I want to drink coffee at 2am I want to be able to in my underwear.
This leads me to contemplate this recession-generation. FOC's not finding work (Fresh of the Campus). How to properly swallow the feeling of just accomplishing a life changing goal and getting recognized by your peers and loved ones that yes, you are a hard-working intelligent human being!- then working at a menial customer service job? We must throw pride into the wind and realize that some things are not our fault. Yes you could have studied that much harder instead of having a social life in college, but I know plenty of Summa and Magna Cum Laude graduates that are working right next to high school drop-outs. There are also many people out there with Masters and PhDs taking entry level position or at least entry level pay. Everyone is being shortchanged in this market.
I learned that the hard way. Upon graduation I felt some sort of privilege, I believed that upon graduation give or take six months I will have a job and move out and start my life...Those six months ended almost two years ago- geez! But yet again there is nothing to be ashamed of. In fact I am the only one of my friends that hasn't been on unemployment yet. Sadly that's not because I've never been laid off, I haven't worked anywhere long enough to qualify for that magical money vacation.
A great professor once told me that the more odd jobs you have only gives you more material for your writing. At this rate I will have a Factotum-like resume in no time. Thanks T. In other words, look at the bright side, at least you don't live in a swamp.
This leads me to contemplate this recession-generation. FOC's not finding work (Fresh of the Campus). How to properly swallow the feeling of just accomplishing a life changing goal and getting recognized by your peers and loved ones that yes, you are a hard-working intelligent human being!- then working at a menial customer service job? We must throw pride into the wind and realize that some things are not our fault. Yes you could have studied that much harder instead of having a social life in college, but I know plenty of Summa and Magna Cum Laude graduates that are working right next to high school drop-outs. There are also many people out there with Masters and PhDs taking entry level position or at least entry level pay. Everyone is being shortchanged in this market.
I learned that the hard way. Upon graduation I felt some sort of privilege, I believed that upon graduation give or take six months I will have a job and move out and start my life...Those six months ended almost two years ago- geez! But yet again there is nothing to be ashamed of. In fact I am the only one of my friends that hasn't been on unemployment yet. Sadly that's not because I've never been laid off, I haven't worked anywhere long enough to qualify for that magical money vacation.
A great professor once told me that the more odd jobs you have only gives you more material for your writing. At this rate I will have a Factotum-like resume in no time. Thanks T. In other words, look at the bright side, at least you don't live in a swamp.
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