the measure of a man

It finally hit me today - music was the meaning.
When Michael Jackson died I was struck by how sudden it seemed, by the tone in my mother's voice and by the sheer volume and quality of his work.
And earlier today as I debriefed with one of my sisters on what MJ meant to us - our family, our people I tried to wrap my head around the tsunami of grief that must be the Jackson Family's. Your siblings are the only ones who can truly relate to how you grew up, share ancient jokes and misdeeds. And the Jackson 5's (and the rest of the fam) are writ large for all of us to share as if they were our own family hijinx.
And now as I watch the memorial service for this legendary artist, I realize that we love him because he was ours - he gave us music, love and memories. Is there another figure for whom millions can sing and dance to the same songs and feel the same joy? We loved him because he reminded us that music is the melody of life. Does the man have a bad song or a truly wack video?!
We love him because his excellence dared us to fly higher, even if it was just in our dreams.

As I watch this wonderful celebration of a tragic and beautiful life I am reminded of how his songs became the soundtrack of my life, our lives in so many ways...
I think back to how the Jackson 5 must have helped my mom learn how to be an American, when she was just another new Brooklyn transplant
To my Trini auntie who would yell at my cousins to hush up if Michael was performing on tv (sorry for stealing that MJ doll!)
The holiday season doesn't really get poppin in my house until my sisters and I are singing along to Jackson 5 caroles on a Motown Christmas
To the thrill of a 15 year old girl's lifetime, performing with my choir at Michael Jackson's 30th Anniversary concert. Yes our costumes were busted, but we got to meet MJ!

Music was the measure of this man, and what an amazing legacy that is.

Don't stop till you get enough!

shoutout board

I miss my kids.

This is the opposite of how I thought I would feel on the last day of school last September. I would look at the calendar and beg the weeks, days, class periods, and minutes to move a little quicker. And now that my time in front of the classroom is done I miss my students.

Today as I gave all the kids of room 300 shout outs I found myself coaking back tears as I told them how much I admired, respected, enjoyed having them in my classroom. The kids truly drove me insane over the course of this school year - I lost a lot of sleep grinding it out as a public school teacher. Between TFA committments, grading, lesson planning, PowerPoint presentation making, and getting the ill REM sleep on the train I couldn't wait for summer to get here fast enough. But my students made it all worth while. They will never know how much they've meant to me and corny as it is, they have changed me and challenged me in ways I didn't know possible.

After the shoutouts the kids gave me some props as well and it was if all the yelling, tantrums, no homework and tardiness was erased as they thanked me for tying my best and showing that I cared. Even as I type this I'm getting teary eyed, because those kids, my kids pushed me to give them everything that I had to to them, I am eternally grateful.

natural living

When I said good bye to the creamy crack and started to grow out my perm 2 years ago it really wasn't a political statement. I just wanted more options in styling and healthier hair. But now that the chemically treated tresses are a thing of the past I want to embrace the whole natural lifestyle.
Minus the tofu of course. As a good Trini girl, I need to make sure I save room for some good curry and roti with sorrel. Although divorcing Kennedy Fried was hard, I want to eat food that came from the death and not from some scientific lab.
So this summer I'll be planting a vegetable garden in my backyard. Rolling up my sleeves and digging deep.
Hopefully the strawberries, tomatoes, and cucumbers I plant will be as tasty as the ones my grandmother and I planted back in the day. If not, Fairway it is!

1 year hence

Last weekend my friend and I drove back up to Amherst to watch the class of 2009 earn their canes, commence and join the rest of us in this horrible economy. In fact, even the "Amherst bubble" was cracked by the financial meltdown - no dessert at the post-graduation luncheon, no titanium Amherst water bottles. damn...
As I cheered my friends on, enjoyed President Marx's long (yet inspired) speech and chatted with other alumni I kept on going back to my own graduation. Sitting in that hot garbage bag of a black gown I remember reminding myself to savor the moment to fully enjoy one of the best days of my life thus far. So much has changed since that hot day last May.
When President Marx gave me my degree and shook my hand, he asked, "Are you ready?" And I said, "I hope so!" I had no clue a year later I would be coming out of my first year teaching getting ready to take another academic plunge. I had just made it out of that academic/social pressure cooker and was so ready to get out.
I called a good friend while up at the alma mater and was telling her just how beautiful the town is and how I couldn't believe I never noticed it before, and she said, "Thats because we were too busy hating it." True, and now a year later, I realize that there will never be another time that my best friends will be literary a 2 minute walk away.
My friends are in the Netherlands, China, Chicago, Boston, LA and (thank God) in Brooklyn. We made it - a year, an Ikea funished apartment, a job, and infinite transitions and changes later I'm still here.
I hope those newest Amherst alums are ready. Believe it or not, it only gets better. Even in the wackest of economies.

if Michelle can do it...

I've been working out like a gladiator for about 2 months now; I wake up on most days at 6:15 to go for a quick run around the hood then when I get home from work my trainer kicks my ass for about 45 minutes.
Here was the weekly work out progression -
I HATTTEEEE THISSSS. Lawd why?!?!
Pick 'em up, put 'em down. You can do it! (Even though it hurts)
Ain't nothing to it, but to do it. What is pain?
Push it to the limit!

Now when I go for runs I actually enjoy it. Working out isn't what I'd call fun times just yet but I feel better both physically and mentally. Why did I decided to get active, put down the chicken wing and dust off my sneakers? Just take a look at our First Lady! I like to call her guns, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness. I'm not on her level just yet, but your sister is getting there.

If Mrs. Obama; First Lady of the United States, mother of two, wife, lawyer, community activist, sister, daughter, friend, volunteer, and the list goes on can wake up at 4 am every day to exercise then I can find an hour each day to tune up and take care of the body God gave me. Its the only true vehicle we have, and it needs to be taken care of with due diligence. It isn't about vainity or purely about looks, its about women understanding that it is good and necessary to take stock of one's health and do everything possible to perserve and maintain.

So if Michelle can do it, so can you. Now to find my own Obama.

hey mona lisa

I first learned about this Faith Ringold story quilt, "Dancing at the Lourve" from the fabulous Mr. Biles' art class back during my halcyon yet hood days at A. Philip Randolph H.S. (Mr. Biles, if you're reading this, please know that you've had such an indelible impact on my life - from worldview, art apreciation, musical tastes, who else but you would play Take 6 and After 7 in class? But most importantly had us understand that blackness did not have to equal a lack of exposure to the wider world).
In class we talked about the word "gauche" and how the girls dancing around the painting could be seen as having behavior or home training. But we decided that they were just excited to be at the world's most famous art museum. And now that I've made that sojourn I couldn't agree more...
I'm just a little girl from Bed-Stuy. But by luck and a whole heap o' blessings and good credit I've been able to see a lot of the beauty of this world - man made and God ordained. There is much more to see do of course, I just want to stay on the journey and remember to order more pages for my passport.
I just want my fellow kids from hoods across NYC and the country to realize that this world is for them too. The block is hot and too small to contain them.

in motion

My homegirl and I just got home from our slammin' trip to London and Paris.
London was even better the second time around and Paris lives up to the hype. Even my plane rides were super smooth, mad love to British Airways for the excellent service and the lowkey bomb food.
Observations on London and Paris:
London is truly NYC's first cousin; the Indian food there pops like no other, SOAS is the NYU of England, going to TopShop is a contact sport, the OysterCard is better than the Metrocard (MTA step your game up!)
The Parisian African Diaspora is real deal; that city is slick diverse, the Metro makes our subway system seem stuck in the 20th century (missing a train in Paris is no big deal. There will be another in 3 mins at the most), the Eiffel Tower is truly a thing to behold, the Parisians were so nice to this American girl whose language skills are limited to bonjour.
Post-vacation ennui has hit harder than the serious jet lag. But its always nice to come back home, back to the hood where I belong.