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Oveous…who???

vonnie — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 01:29:52 +0000

Much can be said about Oveous Maximus. The Artist, Poet, Writer, rapper, graphic Designer best described as a “messenger for the people”, also known for the passion that he brings when on stage. He is a painter who tells you a story, inspires you with idea’s or excitingly moves you to do something. Though his tools aren’t brushes or color combining’s of paint, their simply a collaboration of words. Some colorful, some painful, some funny, some uncomfortable but most of them real. Real words inspired by death, life or simply the guy down the street whistling at your mom.

His passion is driven by the spirit of his late and dearly missed older brother though the loss awakened him not sit around in grief. Instead Oveous Maximus picked up where his brother left off and becoming a Poet was not a question, simply something that had to be done. It became his purpose to speak for the people on behalf of the people. To touch on sensitive subjects and show the courage to do so. This in itself is why Oveous has become a respected Artist gracing stages including Harlem’s Apollo Theater, featured in his first film “Spit”, a documentary exploring the history of Spoken Word and becoming a Def Poet for Russel Simmons HBO special Def Poerty. (With credit to Kamilah Forbes). All of which he considers to be some of his best achievements.

Going back to where it all started we find Oveous Maximus growing up in the Dominican Head Quarters of New York City also known as, Washington Heights. A place that is bound to influence and expose anybody to strong traditional Dominican Culture and everything that comes with it. “Do you even know how great our oatmeal is, with the nutmeg and the cinnamon”?! Sometimes making food references in his poems, you could say that food is a big deal in Latin culture. Also adding music to his influences Oveous explains that he grew up listening to everything from Bob Marley reggae tunes, to Salsa, Hip Hop, Jazz and later on House music. “With all this around you, your bound to have someone like myself bounce off of it and try to make it my own or do something with it”.

Its August 2007 and Oveous Maximus is in Austin Texas to attend the National Poetry Competitions. He sits down in a café and on a piece of paper he writes; “Ironic how I am creating you life in this poem, your life is ending”. It’s a line written to his grandfather as Oveous has just gotten the news that his grandfather is on life support. “I was thinking wow, I am not going to get to see him or thank him for all the knowledge and pay respect to his knowledge”.

These words became a thank you letter. A poem honoring his grandfather and paying tribute to everything he contributed to the family. Its clear that his grandfather has been a great inspiration and influence in his life.

Between family, music and culture influences, Oveous adds that growing up in New York is the best life experience in the world. Its the reason why his lyrics are about everything he sees around him and why he gets inspired by the little details of life, “including the guy who did not get the bagel the way he wanted it or something funny that happened on the train”.

When all of his world comes together you get the rawness, the purified real deal. Its what makes his work accessible and easy for people to relate too, on a human or day to day level. He considers himself a public servant of the Arts and takes his work as an artist very serious. “Its messed up to think that you can just say anything and not think that words don’t hold weight”.

Explaining that being in the entertainment industry, is not just entertainment when kids listen to every word an artist says or become influenced by the words they speak. Words do hold weight and Oveous therefore considers people being touched in positive ways “by his words”, the greatest achievement ever.

“When and if people can get something positive out of what I do, it lets me know that I am doing the right thing and is why I want people to hear the voice who is speaking on behalf of that young kid that never got a chance to speak”, referring to his brother. “That’s why people see the passion in me, its also two people sharing the stage”!

Look out for his Album “Future Intentions” coming out soon and his clothing line “Mileage high Club” now available in Japan, China and Europe.

Written by Ayra Kip
True School
Super Delegate - London

www.myspace.com/oveous
www.mocaarts.com
HBO Def Poetry Performance
www.myspace.com/spitthemovie

The Secrets of Bobby Womack

vonnie — Sat, 28 Mar 2009 01:04:31 +0000

Mention the phrase “soul man,” and a litany of names runs through your mind: Otis Redding, James Brown, Wilson Pickett, Al Green, Isaac Hayes, Marvin Gaye, Jackie Wilson, Teddy Pendergrass and, of course, Sam Cooke. Even newbies like Anthony Hamilton and Jaheim are likely to make the cut, particularly for those who like their contemporary soul, down home and gritty.

For far too many, Bobby Womack is unfortunately an afterthought. But that should change with Womack’s induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame on April 4. Womack joins the ranks of many of the aforementioned legendary soul men including his late friend and mentor Sam Cooke.

At the height of soul music’s popularity in the 1960s and early 1970s, the male soul singer’s status rivaled that of his “race man” peer. The soul man icons of that era congealed grand narratives of tragedy—shot dead in a motel; shot dead by your father; shot dead in a game of Russian Roulette; killed in an airplane crash; scorched by a pot of boiling grits—wedded to even more complicated personal demons—physical abuse of wives and girlfriends; sexual assault of younger female artists; sex with underage girls.

So, at a time when Martin Luther King Jr. and others presented African Americans as the moral compass of American society, the soul man signified a noble and decidedly secular struggle against good and evil.

Bobby Womack’s path to the Hall of Fame is filled with such battles. Did God punish the singer for abandoning gospel music? Did Womack betray his mentor Sam Cooke by marrying his wife? In the end, was he “commercial” enough to crossover?

Sam Cooke was first to create the template for the soul man. His good looks and virile masculinity helped him become gospel music’s first sex symbol. While Cooke clearly sang of the Lord—often in that fluttering, feathery riff that became his signature—he clearly desired the flesh as evidenced by the philandering that purportedly instigated his murder in 1964.

Though Cooke’s posthumously released “A Change is Gonna Come” became a civil rights era anthem, some “true believers” thought his death was punishment for the sin of breaking ranks from the gospel world and opening up the floodgates for many others—most famously Aretha Franklin.

One of those who came through was Bobby Womack. Recording with the Valentinos in the early 1960s, Womack and his brothers were tutored by Cooke on the professional aspects of the recording industry.

Shortly after Cooke’s death, Womack offered counsel and comfort to Cooke’s widow Barbara. But three months after Cooke’s death and just as Womack turned 21 years old, he went a step further, marrying Cooke’s still-grieving wife. “They didn’t let his body get cold in the ground,” family members sniffed in the Pittsburgh Courier.

Despite the drama, Womack began a solo career of some distinction, initially establishing himself as a solid session musician (he played guitar on Aretha Franklin’s classic I Have Never Loved a Man) and an in-demand songwriter, whose credits include tunes recorded by Franklin, Wilson Pickett, The Rolling Stones, Janis Joplin and George Benson. After releasing a string of singles, beginning with “I Found a True Love” in 1965 for the legendary Chess label, Womack released his first solo album in 1968 with Fly Me to the Moon on the Minit label. It would still be a few years before Womack would hit his artistic stride, recording a sequence of stellar recordings for the United Artist label in the early 1970s that included signature tracks such as “I Can Understand It,” “That’s the Way I Feel About Cha,” “Woman’s Gotta Have It,” “Across 110th Street” (from the movie soundtrack of the same name) and “Lookin’ for a Love,” a song Womack originally recorded with his brothers in 1962.

Though Womack’s music was well-regarded by black audiences and received the support of black radio, he never made the crossover inroads that his friend and mentor Sam Cooke did.

But, Womack kept recording and made a bit of a comeback in the early 1980s recording for the independent label Beverly Glen. On The Poet, Womack recorded what is perhaps his most recognizable tune, “If You Think You’re Lonely Now.”

It was during the midst of this resurgence that Womack finally responded musically to the drama that initially unfolded in the months after his mentor’s demise. “I Wish You Wouldn’t Trust Me So” rather casually tells the story of a man who has fallen in love with his best friend’s wife. By the time the song was released in the summer of 1985, most listeners didn’t know about the singer’s relationship with Cooke’s widow, who Womack had divorced a decade earlier.

To complicate matters, Womack’s brother Cecil married Linda Cooke, the daughter of Sam and Barbara Cooke. During the time that Bobby Womack recorded “I Wish I Wouldn’t Trust You So Much,” Curtis and Linda Womack were popular songwriters and artists in their own right recording as “Womack & Womack;” the duo, for example, penned Teddy Pendergrass’s hit “Love T.K.O.”

In the end, it’s all about how great the music was, and more than anything, this is what the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame recognizes with their induction of Bobby Womack.

Mark Anthony Neal is professor of African & African-American Studies at Duke University. The author of several books, he is currently completing Looking for Leroy: (Il)Legible Black Masculinities for New York University Press.

Hip Hop: A Chance Meeting

vonnie — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 19:36:00 +0000

My ascension into the multiple dimensions of the hip-hop realm manifested like an unshaken addiction fueled by gateway rhythms, rhymes, and reasons. While 80’s pop culture had influenced my perspectives of fashion, music, and ideologies those who lived beyond the walls of my guarded abode, were captivated and living the lives spewed by Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five in The Message. My surroundings mirrored images painted by the extensive word play, “Broken glass everywhere. People pissing in stairwells you know they just don’t care,” yet I was still submerged in a world of neon colors, pop sounds, and MTV dreams. The divide among my neighborhood peers and I was vivid, and beyond living in the same housing project and attending the same school a commonality in interests failed to exist that is until the summer of 1985 when mutual ties were created by lyrical lines.

“My radio believe me I like it loud.

I’m the man with the box that can rock the crowd.

Walking down the street with the hardcore beats

While JVC vibrates the concrete,”

And with that one verse and the bass that stroked it my proverbial, rap hymen was broken, and a seed of interest was implanted into gray matter once white washed by images projected by MTV. The seed instantly manifested into a dire need to rekindle the rush created by the acoustic orgy that had just occurred in the inner sanctuary of my eras.

Ear drums once teased and titillated by Pop and Rock were being pounded and penetrated raw by hard core beats, synthesized sounds, and urban tales spewed by a skilled, cunning linguist. With limited exposure to the sounds and words that were surrounding me, I was vexed and perplexed by this intriguing sound. Embarking on a mission to discover the origin of the sound, I was led to a group of neighborhood teens rocking Adidas and Jordache gear hanging out on the side of my building dancing frantically while reciting the words that had guided me to them. Normally I would bypass them out of fear of ridicule, but on that day I did not care. I needed to who and what they were listening to. I felt as if the music was beckoning me, and I had to answer it. Unfazed by the results of previous encounters with my neighborhood peers, I inquired about their music, fashion, and dances. On that fated day LL Cool J’s voice emerged from a dual cassette JVC Blaster with the built in amplifier and lead me to open arms of a culture that would continue to embrace me for years to come.

In one day, I had been exposed to LL Cool J, Doug E Fresh, the Juice Crew, and a host of other hip hop artists. The dynamics and the inner workings of Hip Hop had been bestowed on me. I felt empowered with the knowledge that I know possessed, and before I made the succinct journey back to my home to revile in my new found acquaintances and leanings , a gift that meant more to me than any expensive, lavish items was placed in my open palm. A Sony cassette tape containing the music that in the near future would repetitiously be played and mimicked was my partying gift. On that day a Hip-Hop head was created.

The cassette tape was the catalyst for my immersion into a cultural movement that dictated trends, fashion, vernacular, dance, and attitude. Like a scholar I studied and researched the culture. Movies such as Wild Style, Beat Street, and Krush Groove served as a medium to witness and experience the descent of the hip hop culture on urban society. The sounds of Cyndi Lauper, Duran Duran, and Madonna that once dominated the sound waves of my second floor bedroom were now infiltrated by the sounds of Sweet Tee, Doug E Fresh and the Get Fresh Crew, Salt and Pepa, Boogie Down Productions, and Eric B and Rakim. Allowance money was used to purchase Right On and Word Up magazines to gain more information and insight about the music and artists Posters of Heavy D and the Boys, LL Cool J, and Roxanne Shante now grace egg shell covered walls. Friday Nights once reserved for watching Friday Night Videos were now designated for recording Marty the One Party’s Full Moon Block Party on 90.1WNAA on Memorex cassette tapes which later would be used to memorize, analyze, and fantasize about the lives of the urban elite. Within a year a shift had occurred in the life of a young girl who was once misunderstood by her peers. I had transitioned into a trend-setting, free-styling, hip-hop junkie with the attitude and dialect of a B-girl.

I no longer emulated hip-hop, I was hip hop. From fashion to vernacular and from dances to perceptions, I was the walking embodiment of hip-hop. As I matured, the culture evolved into a phenomenon only contained within the boundaries of the inner city, eventually making its way to the mainstream media. The culture once taboo was now accepted and being raped and exploited by commercialism, but my commitment to it remained strong.

The Hip-hop culture has continued to evolve, mature, and exemplify the ideologies of a generation. From being, political to sexual, controversial to party-starting Hip Hop has continuously consoled, enlightened, seduced, and entertained those such as myself who valued and continues to value the personal impact hip-hop has had on their lives. The elements of hip-hop whether a verse, a dance, or slang serve as reference points when I reflect on my emotions, dealings, and dwellings during various stages of my life. Just as in relationship, turbulence may have surfaced, yet my commitment to hip-hop has allowed me to remain by its side as sporadically tries to find its direction. A chance meeting between a cultural movement and a slightly impressionable young girl manifested in a torrid relationship that has surpassed expectations. Twenty years later, a movement that many considered a fad still stands strong, and I proudly stand by its side as the world has learned that hip hop is more than music. It’s a movement.

Written by Lotticia Mack

The Influence of Hip Hop

vonnie — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 13:24:19 +0000

Spectac teaches hip hop integration at NCCAT

Dad: Well, Billy, another school year is coming to a close. No more college parties, just another summer here at home. What will you do all day? Billy: Oh, I dunno. I’ll probably work on my blog or something. Dad: You need more direction! That blog is just your generation’s answer to comic books. Billy: On the contrary, [...]Dad: Well, Billy, another school year is coming to a close. No more college parties, just another summer here at home. What will you do all day? Billy: Oh, I dunno. I’ll probably work on my blog or something. Dad: You need more direction! That blog is just your generation’s answer to comic books. Billy: On the contrary, [...]Dad: Well, Billy, another school year is coming to a close. No more college parties, just another summer here at home. What will you do all day? Billy: Oh, I dunno. I’ll probably work on my blog or something. Dad: You need more direction! That blog is just your generation’s answer to comic books. Billy: On the contrary, [...]

books. Billy: On the contrary, [...]Dad: Well, Billy, another school year is coming to a close. No more college parties, just another summer here at home. What will you do all day? Billy: Oh, I dunno. I’ll probably work on my blog or something. Dad: You need more direction! That blog is just your generation’s answer to comic books. Billy: On the contrary, [...]Dad: Well, Billy, another school year is coming to a close. No more college parties, just another summer here at home. What will you do all day? Billy: Oh, I dunno. I’ll probably work on my blog or something. Dad: You need more direction! That blog is just your generation’s answer to comic books. Billy: On the contrary, [...]books. Billy: On the contrary, [...]Dad: Well, Billy, another school year is coming to a close. No more college parties, just another summer here at home. What will you do all day? Billy: Oh, I dunno. I’ll probably work on my blog or something. Dad: You need more direction! That blog is just your generation’s answer to comic books. Billy: On the contrary, [...]Dad: Well, Billy, another school year is coming to a close. No more college parties, just another summer here at home. What will you do all day? Billy: Oh, I dunno. I’ll probably work on my blog or something. Dad: You need more direction! That blog is just your generation’s answer to comic books. Billy: On the contrary, [...]books. Billy: On the contrary, [...]Dad: Well, Billy, another school year is coming to a close. No more college parties, just another summer here at home. What will you do all day? Billy: Oh, I dunno. I’ll probably work on my blog or something. Dad: You need more direction! That blog is just your generation’s answer to comic books. Billy: On the contrary, [...]Dad: Well, Billy, another school year is coming to a close. No more college parties, just another summer here at home. What will you do all day? Billy: Oh, I dunno. I’ll probably work on my blog or something. Dad: You need more direction! That blog is just your generation’s answer to comic books. Billy: On the contrary, [...]

The New Age of Ascension Inclusion Syndrome

vonnie — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 00:00:12 +0000

Towards the end of 2008, a bunch of people told me I needed to share my thoughts on this topic. But I was so swamped with the graduate school work they been pilin’ on me, that sometimes my creative mind doesn’t even get a chance to think straight. So this one has marinated and bubbled in my head for a nice little second…simmering on a low flame ever since Tabitha asked me to cook up a dish. So I served it…and now Danya got me in the freezer, looking for the frozen leftovers…

It was initially a theoretical construct. And as we all know, no idea’s original, so somebody might have said it, but just called it by a different name. But here was mine: I entitled the 2008 Inaugural Countdown phase the age of Ascension Inclusion Syndrome. Now work with me here for a second…I am defining this syndrome as the ever-present obsession with entering another’s Zen-like space through a series of loopholes or inadvertent and unexpected back doors. I came across this mode of thought within the span of forty-eight hours, between Monday, November 3rd and Wednesday, November 5th, 2008: immediately before, during and after the 2008 Presidential Election. Now mind you, we all know the outcome at this point…after all, we live in the age of Ascension Inclusion Syndrome. But what I find most fascinating about this scenario with President Obama is how his presence has only warranted inclusion by those suffering from AIS since his meteoric rise. I’ll give you a few examples.

Walking around grad school, everything up until that Monday was all about a description of Obama as “black president.” Search high and low, near and far, the commentary you heard in the midst of any descriptive and animated conversation on campus about Election Day was “black president.” Interestingly enough, on that Monday I was joking around, reciting the Dave Chappelle starring as “Chester Biggums” skit: “white power!!!” This was comedy to anyone within earshot of my stress-relieving antics.

…and then that Tuesday came…and that Tuesday went…

And best believe the comedy came crashing down – screeched to a deafening halt – on that Wednesday, when I came to school early, wearing orange-tan tinted sunglasses indoors while saying “doesn’t the oxygen taste so much better now…?…it just FEELS like a good day.” And except for a microscopic minority, no one found any humor when I said “How ill is it that the new face of the leader of free world actually looks a lot more like…me!!! More than it EVER has before!!!” Now, as the only African-American male pursuing a graduate degree in this program’s space, the politics of me being asked by a professor to “dial it down” shouldn’t be a surprise to any of us; and especially not from the white professorial Obama supporter who “claims” to be the resident “critical race theorist.” However, this is another location for critical analysis in another article that, as my Caribbean brethren say, “soon come stahrr, soon come.”

But most intriguing to me was how on this Wednesday, die-hard McCain supporters began to get sick…they were now contagions, carriers of AIS. So when they started talking about Obama, they said “Todd, he’s not REALLY black…his mother’s white. He’s actually bi-racial.”

…whuuuuuut…?

Now of course, the hood in me wanted to say “now your white-behind knows that 48 hours ago, that man was black to you…and “black” with a lower-case b!?!?! Stop frontin’!?!?!?!” I really began to observe the elements as the white world I saw around me functioned in two ways. There were liberals, progressives and some plainly rational people who were all aboard when it came to the “Change Train.” They had supported Obama even before I had – and mind you, my first reaction was “look – this dude’s cousin is Cheney…sounds like a conspiracy to me.” But again, in time soon come, even I changed. I saw the politics involved with the white woman, married to “the closest we’ll ever get to a black president”, tearing down the blackness I could no longer NOT side with…and when I really started to analyze the dude, he really made sense. And so, soon come change for me.

But then, there was that other white faction, the one I engage with at the good ole conservative “institution” of “higher learning” – the religious school premised on “helping the disadvantaged” in the most diverse area of the world’s metropolis (which remains nameless for now) that really wanted absolutely no parts of this black man, with half his DNA rooted in African monikers and slight whispers of Arabic phonetics. The same “institution” that had absolutely NO affect on this most Glorious of Wednesdays. It was as if the most historic moment of our lifetime had not happened! Just think about it: this is one of the first instances, at least in my lifetime, when we’ve experienced this certain type of “where were you when…?” This time, it’s not about death and destruction, chaos or catastrophe…

“Where were you when Barack Obama became President of the United States…?”
whuuuAAAT???

I remember EXACTLY where I was when I saw and heard word that we had the first Black president of the United States of America, encompassing two cultures, born to build a new legacy and foundational shift for history as we may very well know it. So please tell me how this dude went from “black” to bi-racial? Wasn’t it oppressive white conservative law long ago that decried whether you were bi-racial, quadroon, octoroon…wasn’t the rule if even a drop of black blood ran through a person’s veins, that person was considered black? So tell me again, how dude’s bi-racial now???

Ascension Inclusion Syndrome, that’s how.

We have seen this type of psychological plague happen many a time when it comes to the African-American community, but usually along very different levels. Look at today’s immediate connection between what is considered popular culture, and its origin and roots that are firmly grounded within Black culture. We can very easily trace strains of AIS back through time…just look at the blues, jazz music and culture, and move your way right up the spectrum into the most recent pre-AIS strain: the appropriation of hip-hop. Most famous for this strain was the phenomena of young white kids on cornfields in the Midwest changing their dress code, speech patterns, and aspects of their personalities to match more of an urban inner-city hip-hopper. And as a community, we go back and forth sometimes – labeling hip-hop music and culture as either problematic or empowering. But this newly-altered strain is clearly different: who can deny the power of this millennium-based landmark in history with our 44th president? So now, what was once seen as based in something appropriated for monetary purposes and financial gains isn’t present in this particular strain. The fundamental inclusion grounded in AIS is based on the most positive of successes for the African-American community: a transcendental state of ascension. And so what happens? I don’t have to tell you…just listen…can’t you hear them creepin’ in through the back door…

In a recent Time magazine article “Crossing the Color Line”, the good reverend T.D. Jakes talks about Barack Obama’s presidential status and says “before we light candles and sing ‘Kumbaya,’ it may be wise to adjust our expectation to a realistic depiction of attainable goals. No one man’s appointment will end all racial tension. Nor will it totally eradicate the residual bitterness inherent in a society where such atrocities as slavery and Jim Crow lie only a few miles behind us.” On the one hand, I laugh because this has indeed been my slogan in pockets of crisis and resistance – “let’s just all go into the quad, hold hands, and sing Kumbaya!!!” And I do think T.D. Jakes is right: Obama is not the end-all-be-all-cure-all. I know this to be true because during Winter Break from the great “institution” I attend, a white professor (another self-proclaimed ‘critical race theorist’) sent me a book she really felt I needed to read: “It’s called ‘Your Average Nigga.’ And not ‘nigger’ with an er Todd, but ‘nigga’ with an A!” Couple that with the maximum pimpology that goes on in my doctoral studies, with no support from the higher administrative powers when I talk about hip-hop pedagogy in the English composition classroom, until this work is accepted unilaterally at national English conferences, and now Todd’s “the little black boy that did good…from OUR program.” Nah sun, Obama ain’t the complete cure-all by any means…at least not for these displays of deep-rooted discriminatory mentalities and AIS infections minus vaccination. But simultaneously, this moment in American (and global) history channeled through the vessel named Barack Obama is such a powerful happening for the African-American community. And the reason why is because Obama’s existence speaks to the notion of humanity. The amalgamation of his heritage, outlooks and beliefs makes him a magnetically soothing and all-inclusive figure – one that does have the potential to initiate the healing process of a nation split to the core that so ardently needs to come together, regardless of our constructed and self-imposed differences. What Obama does naturally without even being forced or pressured, is encompass a larger image: a Black man with direct African lineage, the other half rooted in a white woman, with Arabic and Muslim names, who chooses to spend his Sundays in church as a Christian. It is indeed the culmination of the idea of the “great American melting pot”, with all these attributes coalescing in one individual. As well, his positioning has the power to spark a discourse that could break down some very long-standing boundaries about American constructions of race…and just by breathing and being himself: the Presidential candidate we saw throughout the two-year campaign process. The now-President who’s also a regular person: down to earth, calm, cool and collected, even amidst the most pivotal and pinnacle point of his career. This should be a charge to all of us.
We can now view this time as a location where the African-American community (and specifically Black males) has a chance to ascend and rise…so certain excuses must come to an end. And this is a call to young and old, rich and poor, light and dark, even blood and crip. No longer can we say there is no one who has us in mind. No longer can we say that government doesn’t represent us, look like us, walk, talk and speak like us…nope. And no longer can we say we are not seen as smart, capable people – well-educated and able to do any and everything. I can now say to my nieces and nephew: “if you put your mind to it, you can be ANYTHING you want to be…including president.” I only used to be able to give them the first part, but now, what comes after the ellipses is truly documented in history and cannot be denied. So it’s time for all of us to step up in the same way Obama has showed us we can – through hard work, perseverance, determination…but most importantly – unity through a collective consciousness that bears the unbreakable will of achievement and excellence. He even validated my own existence: he has shown me, yet again, that you can be highly educated, but still stay real – still make the secret service accompany you and your boys to the gym for a few full-courts real fast…how thoro is that??? This really becomes the time for us to come together, sit, and truly analyze the things we have done, what we are presently doing, and how we continue onward from here.

I truly feel America has spoken on all levels…from the triumphant rallies flooded with tears of change (the reason I wore sunglasses inside – so all those around couldn’t see me sporadically stream tears of euphoric restoration), to the deep-seeded boos spreading Ascension Inclusion Syndrome through the atmosphere, interrupting McCain’s concession remarks. But I also feel America spoke with the help of the Elements channeled through the spirit of Obama’s recently-passed grandmother. That’s the only way I can make sense of over 60 degree weather in New York City in the beginning of November…and besides, I fully believe as one spirit passes into the unknown, another spirit is born into existence – the spirit that was born was Barack Obama’s presidency. And not just for him, but for the picture and vision he ultimately stands for and represents – inclusion, unity, transformation…and all under the guise of a God-fearing dude who puts family first while the business of things runs a hairline-super-close second.

This is a moment where all races and creeds, sexes and genders, color shades and nationalities can truly come together around one common cause – humanity. The country we presently live in cannot succeed without this new way of thinking. It is a time for reflection and synthesis; a moment where we can all collectively subscribe to the idea that the same blue blood runs in all our veins, and becomes the same red blood once it combines with the air and undergoes oxygenation. And I cannot lie – it’s a moment where it all happens coming through the lens of a Black man, the culture which has always been disputed and critically acclaimed as the beginning of all human civilization. Personally, I’m loving it, because it does indeed give us a new perspective and a fresh take on life…the oxygen has really tasted better for me…

So in the end, I’m cool with the AIS-infected people wanting to include themselves in this history – it’s cool…for real! I’ll actually give people permission to ride out on this one. Because what they essentially want to include themselves in is another moment in which Black people have found success and ascension for our people while radically revising the fabric of this country’s canon in a magnanimously life-altering way. Some may say it’s not fair. But I say, ga’head and ride the bandwagon…just acknowledge a Black man steers the trip…

…there’s enough room for all of us to fit comfortably and share…
…we’re even offering the AIS vaccine towards the back of the bandwagon…

…please just don’t steal my thunder on this one, aight?

Written by Todd Craig

This essay was revised for True School, and reprinted with the permission of Prophetic Worship: the Caviar to Heaven the Arsenic to Hell.