Yoga Can Stretch Memories of Kite Flying in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park

“Try not. Do or do not, there is no try”….Yoda; Star Wars

“Baseball is ninety percent mental. The other half is physical.”….Yogi Berra

  

        I confess that I see the world through the corrective lens of education. Every waking moment is for me, a teaching and learning opportunity. We are (all of us) always teaching; we teach by what we do; and by what we fail to do. We teach volumes by what we give to those around us; and by what we withhold from them. And I suspect that the really smart and successful people know that they are always teaching.  They “decenter”, and are like good classroom teachers able to step outside of themselves and see themselves teaching, as if they were sitting in their own classroom. But great and wise teachers are constantly aware that at every moment of their lives they are also students. The goal is to achieve a state of learning to be excellent in every aspect of one’s life (spiritual, relationships, professional, creative gifts, etc.). But excellence is like reaching infinity via the number line. As soon as you reach the highest number imagined; you realize that by just adding the single digit 1 means there is another higher number. Does the seeking of excellence sound like a meaningless journey and effort?  Not quite, the true meaning and purpose of the effort, is in the effort. I would think that if one actually was able to obtain excellence; that state would be meaningless, and boring; for it is our imperfections, short comings, and incompleteness, undiscovered and underdeveloped gifts, which make both us and life interesting. The “trick” is to be every ready to receive the ever-present lesson. The best Learner is not distracted by the age, race, gender, educational level, credentials, social status, material wealth or titles of the teacher. What they are intrinsically attracted to, is the ultimate value for growth from the lesson. Settings can also be misleading; as some of the best and most important lessons take place outside of formal educational settings.  The best Learners see the entire world as just one big classroom.

              One of my first out of school learning experiences occurred  during the 4 years I worked the 12: AM-8: AM shift at the post office, and attended college full time. The many Black American “mail-handlers” I worked with had every reason to be bitter and not wish me well. Many of them were intellectually capable to go to college but opted to take care of their families by securing a “safe” civil service job; many indeed had college degrees but were unable, because of racial discrimination, to obtain jobs in their fields of study. But the opposite happen.  These men collectively willed me to gather strength every day to travel after work, up to CCNY and take a full day of classes. I needed all of the support and encouragement I could get since I faced moments of extreme exhaustion, and often said: “I can’t do this”. On one of those days I did something I had never done before, or since. We were unloading a truck full with heavy bags of mail, loading the bags onto skids that would take them to other trucks. While dragging a bag to a skid; I felt more tired than I had ever felt in my life. I was thinking about all of the class assignments I had to complete and in particular the demanding work of the “Clark Brothers”; I was taking a class in history with John Henrick Clarke; and a psychology class with Kenneth Clark. They both demanded nothing less than your best; it was just impossible to fake a “weak” paper pass these brilliant professors; they were both masters in their fields of study.  All this is going through my mind as I am (as least believing to be) dragging this heavy mail bag across the floor; when suddenly I hear a loud: “Johnson!” it seemed; that I had actually stopped, and had fallen asleep standing up. The guys told me to get off the floor before I injure myself.  I was sent to the “swing-room” (locker room) to get some much needed rest. “We will cover for you”; just make sure you do something with that schooling, and help somebody”.  I have never forgotten their lesson of kindness, or their charge for me to use my education, not to make money, but to be able to perform a service for others.  I was thinking about them this week as I started the first session of my Yoga classes. I find joy in things I have not already accomplished and mastered.  I am also interested in noble efforts, where there is a strong possibility I can lose or fail (or why bother?). But as I attempted to do some of the powerful stretching positions in the class, my age “told on me”. I thought: “I can’t do this”. I was struggling to even get into a position that looked similar to the one being demonstrated by the instructor. I have learn over the years to give myself permission for a few moments of regret at the beginning of a challenging effort;( knowing that my feelings of regret are on a limited timer) I thought: “What was I thinking about when I signed up for this class?” and, “Why did I let my “exercise fan” doctor; who thought yoga was a great idea; talk me into this. What am I doing here? I am feeling ancient, but not in the wisdom sense. The younger folks around me seem to bend and twist into the many simple yet complex positions with much less psychological and physical effort then I was expending. Ten minutes into the class I said to myself; that if I can escape from this alive I will never come back again; “this, is killing me”. I was stretching and exercising muscles both known and unknown; and all the while the sister teacher kept saying: “Now watch, and manage your breathing”. “ Well”, I thought hoping she could not hear my thoughts; “Whenever I am able to catch my breath, I will indeed try to watch it”. I thought at some point: “I am making a complete fool of myself; and that I really need to “act my age”. But paying attention to your own breathing; mentally observing the resistance and surrender of your own muscles, forces your thoughts to go inside of yourself.  Quite honestly, I always thought Yoga wasn’t “that much”. After all people aren’t running for miles, shaking their “Zumbas”, or lifting heavy weights. They are not “moving around that much”; and so how hard can this be? It was hard, very hard. At that moment I felt as if I was receiving some type of cosmic pay back for all of the dismissive thoughts I had about Yoga.  A sister yogi next to me,  surrounded me with encouraging words; she help to  carry me through what seem like an entire day (1 hour) of exhaustive, strenuous exercise. She gently, graciously, quietly and softly encouraged me forward even as I made a physical mess, and an unintended mockery of just about every Yoga position. She was at that moment the Black women of my youthful church, who encouraged the children in every, public speaking, every Shepherd (with towel around head) role in the Christmas plays, recitation, publicly reading scripture, or memorization and presentations of the books of the bible. It never occurred to us kids that even when we made a mistake in our presentations, we still received the same standing ovation, the same wonderful encouragement. When I look back, the tremendous praise and adulation of those mothers of the church was like my Yoga sister probably more than I deserved. But they knew what they were doing; they were insulating us against self- defeat, and against a world committed to defeating our sense of self-hood.   The instructor (Anacostia Yogi) is a wonderful teacher; and having evaluated teachers for so many years, I know good teaching when I see it. All excellent teachers seem to have the similar quality of effortlessly delivering efficacy while making the student feel welcomed and worthy of the teachers hard work. She both pushed and carried us to do our best.  Her persistent encouragement along with my fellow classmate reminded me of my 70’s post-office buddies (without the salty language of course). If we are to be successful human beings; we are in many ways the end results of encouragement, both internal and external.  When we feel tired we need the strength of another, to see our own strength. When we are unwilling, or our will is weakened by a perceived or real limitation; the kind words of another can will us forward to a different possibility. And, as often is the case, when we feel we don’t have enough of what is needed for the moment; a great teacher, and a caring fellow student can gently push us into our unrealized strength. You then feel obligated to succeed based on the pact you made through their inspirational and emotional investment in you.  And at some point in the class something interesting occurred.  I became less conscious of my struggling self, and more aware of another less conscious self.  I was no longer concerned about what I could not do; and felt very powerful in what I was able to do. I felt powerful and accomplished when I made even the smallest progress. I became aware of myself improving at every moment.  I compared myself to myself at the start of the class, and to where I was now in the present moment. Progress can be known, and had form one minute to the next; the key is to continue to move forward.  At the end of the class I felt I had been on a spiritual journey; like an earlier version of myself who went mountain climbing in Canada (Oh, didn’t know that?). It is that time; after you reach the top, and leave the total concentration of the physical climb behind; that you look down and realize that you are both the mountain, and the climb; at that moment your entire life comes into focus. After spending more than 35 years in high stress positions; the last meditating position we assumed in the class put me into a relaxing state that took me back to my adolescence. I could see myself in my youthful activity of kite flying. We young Brooklyn aviators made our kites climb and sour to the clouds over Prospect Park (and we believed the planet earth itself). At some point in kite flying (and kite flyers will fully appreciate this); there is a moment when there is no distance between you and the kite, you are tethered to something great, high and wonderful; you are magically attached to the freedom and power of the sky; or you forget you are holding the string; and you feel yourself, and not the kite dancing just below the canopy of the clouds. The kite soars, you soar, the kite descends, and you descend. When the kite returns to earth; you mentally plan the necessary repairs; and all you can think about on the walk home is the next flying date. The moment the yoga class ends; is the moment I begin; in all of my fleeing exhaustion, to miss it. A strange feeling for an I, who for so many years found himself not missing much of anything outside of working in education.  I begin to feel; “There is a life, after (or alongside) a life”; hidden from us; but accessible; reached by Kite or on this particular day, Yoga.

           Driving home from the class I was amazed at my vivid memory of the details and techniques of childhood kite flying.  Where had that memory gone for so many years? Perhaps you can only find your deepest childhood memories in a safe space; a place where you are relived of the heavy burden of managing a image. That night after the Yoga class I experienced a powerful sleep; a deep sleep; the type of sleep I last felt many years ago; when a very tired 20 year old was pulling a mail bag across that post office floor; back then nothing, and I mean nothing in the world existed at that moment, except sleep.

There is “Reality”, and then there is the “real” Reality.

‘Preachers’ Daughters’ Premiere: 17-Year-Old Taylor Wants To Be A Porn Star Or Stripper…’ ….. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/03/13/preachers-daughters-porn-star-stripper-video_n_2866229.html?utm_hp_ref=black-voices&ir=Black%20Voices

 

            I guess my concern is that the crazy and lowest denominator is presented as the “reality-norm”. And whose reality is it, really? I suppose that every type of known or imagined depraved behavior is someone’s reality but my 2 other concerns are the attempts to pass these shows off as normal reality comedy as opposed to aberration and distortions of “generalized” Black reality; driven by human distraction and destruction. We are more, much more.

             It is not the comedic aspect of these ‘Reality’ shows in itself that is the problem; even as I cringe at the attempt to play into stereotypical  gender; ( the never ending female ‘cat fights’ over the senseless and meaningless); and the racial (happy go lucky Negroes with much artificially created concerns and drama in the world; and without politically progressive idea in their heads. They live out their lives careening from designed “crises to crises” in a modern over the top passion play of ‘minstrelality’. There is something very odd here. When watching shows in the 50’s and 60’s like The Three Stooges (the name alone told you where the show was going); they acted in the most unreal sense of reality. The behavior was so, bizarre, so extreme, so “slap-stickish” that there was no way that the TV networks could call what they did “reality”. In a subtle way we were provided with a sort of “Intellectual sub titles”; a kind of disclaimer, that informed us: “What you are watching is for entertainment purposes only; it is not for reality consumption”.

               I remember one of my P.S. 9 (elementary school) classmates getting into serious trouble, when he performed a “Moe on Curley” (2 of the 3 Stooges) technique on another student in the school yard. (Two fingers eyes poke; blocked by Curley; followed up by an overhand “head-bop”, unable to be blocked by Curley). He never got to the “head-bop” part. The young victim, lacking a script, and acting technique did not block the “eye-poking” move. He suffered a not too serious eye injury, but had to be taken to the hospital. This resulted in us boys (the girls, apparently had more sense, even back then); to miss a day of recess so that we could listen to a lecture from the Assistant principal, Mr. Grant, concerning the absence of reality in shows like The Three Stooges and “Professional Wresting”. All activities related to these TV shows were hence forth banned from the territory of P.S. 9. Obviously (as history records); we all collectively made a mental note that his prohibition did not mention after-school on the way home, on the block and on weekends. Little did I know then; but many years later I would be presenting a modern and  version of Mr. Grant’s “reality speech” to a young man in my office for performing the (from “Professional TV Wresting”) infamous “sleeper-hold” on another student. His defense (and I am being charitable in calling it a defense); “I was not trying to hurt him; I was only trying to see if it works”. His attempt at directing and acting in his own reality show did not put the other student to sleep; but it did succeed in activating the victim’s asthma. “What amount of Knuckle in your head prevents you from understanding that professional wresting is not real?” I asked. His non-response signaled that he understood that my question was rhetorical; did not require an answer; and was intended to “shock” a sense of reality into his world view. After waiting the standard “principals pause” to allow for the gravity of the situation to sink in; I then pronounced the link of pedagogy to punishment (As I always told my Ed. Administration interns: “we are ultimately in the teaching, not the punishment business”). “Since you will now have a few days to reflect and contemplate the results of your actions; away from the social contact of your fellow students; I want to be helpful here” The look on the students face revealed that he knew that my offer “to help”; would somehow be problematic for him. “I will need you to write a 25 page paper on the history of Greco-Roman wrestling and U.S. “professional wresting”; and then compare and contrast them.” (All good knowledge is ultimately put to some good use; so somewhere in this world there is a young man; who knows a heck of a lot about Greco- Roman wrestling!)

                Our view of reality is very much shaped by our reality. And, perhaps there is an ongoing “back and forth” of shaping by the internal and external realities. Knowledge, is truly power, and powerful in helping us to distinguish which “reality” is in charge and when. As a youngster my friends  and I played “superheroes” (bathrobes became capes); and, (out of the knowing of  my mother); did leap from dresser top to bed; but it never occurred to us to do what seem to be an annual event of some youngsters at the time, to literally jump out of a window playing Superman. Somehow we were totally absorbed in playing the Superhero game; and yet we knew we were only playing superheroes. And although the Three Stooges were clearly White; we somehow did not think of them as being White.  It perhaps helped that TV, motion pictures, the news media; school (history lessons absent Black) gave us an overwhelming access to see many White people who were not stooges. The Black folks we saw on TV were either in some type of servitude position; or grunted some incomprehensible “African language” on shows like Tarzan.

                   Because we as a nation have failed to honestly discuss the unresolved issues of Race across racial barriers; these “reality” shows must be analyzed in a racial/political context; for example, when Black and White viewers are watching the same reality show scenes are they laughing at the same things? I wonder how much of our social reality drives our vision and understanding of these TV Reality shows; drives the  cause and context for our sense of humor? We don’t know because we fearfully avoid the discussion of race; even when the topic is race.  Unfortunately, what we presently have now in our nation is like the title of the August Wilson’s Play Two Trains Running; separate conversations moving along in parallel, but never touching. And until we have that “painful discussion”; I will remain suspicious of the motives and intent of the cultural, news, entertainment, sports, TV, and motion picture industries.

               I think that many of these Black focused “reality shows” trace their philosophical ancestry not to the Three Stooges (although their behavior can be very stooge like) but rather to the Amos and Andy school of “reality” where characters like “Kingfish” and “Lightning” were playing out the racist interpreted vision of Black Americans; the “few” (actually the majority) of Black Americans who did not act, or live like them; were either “exceptions” or “credits” to their Race.

             I would think that the daughters of preachers are as diverse in their thoughts about career choices as any other daughters. And so clearly it is the shock of, juxtaposition and the contradiction of this young lady’s career choice, and her father’s vocation, that is the objective here. All done in that endless search for a space and place to make money. Another woman objectified and commercialized in an unimaginative entertainment vehicle; (where do they find these people?).  And of course; on full display: The “joy” of seeing the hypocrisy and failures of Christian parenting skills. Another reason to say: “You see, that’s why I don’t go to church…; that’s why I don’t listen to ministers”. There is something strange and unsettling  about the public’s thirst to see  public figures fail and fall. Do we find a collective comfort to see that like us, they often live in a sad reality?  We know where this show is heading, the plot and the necessary conflicts story line. And if it is successful, were the producers responding to the reality of a desire on the part of the audience; or, are they creating that desired reality? And even if she is only “thinking” about this particular career move; I would think that being the child of a preacher, could offer us many important and interesting insights as to its unique challenges, beyond the extreme of pornography and striping.

          OK, so I am really going to stop saying about these “reality shows”: “It can’t possibly get any worse” (It’s only a matter of time: “The Real Hip-Hop-Probasketball/Football Players Baby-Mommas-Stripper Housewives of Atlanta”…majmuse.net).  Clearly, I am just setting myself up for disappointment. This: ‘Preachers’ Daughters’ Premiere: 17-Year-Old Taylor Wants To Be A Porn Star or Stripper…’ ;  moves us tragically closer to worse, at least I hope!

Bad Research, Wishful Thinking; and in the end, “You can’t hurry love”

“How the demographic shift could hurt Democrats too”……. http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/how-the-demographic-shift-could-hurt-democrats-too/2013/03/08/de82ab38-8128-11e2-a350-49866afab584_story.html

 

Putting aside the poor research methodology.  Demographics, present and trending, is both the cause and indicator, (but not the driving cause) of the future recruitment problems facing the Republican Party (GOP). The problem is centered in their ideas, or as some would say, the lack of. Any “business plan” that calls for an appeal to a shrinking customer base is doomed to fail. Food chains like Burger King and McDonald are seeking to now appear more “health conscious” because the consumers are showing  a greater interest in health and caloric intake. The former “Fast” label that was their claim to fame is less appealing, since many food outlets (i.e. Chipotle) have learned to serve food fast and healthier. The Republicans need an MBA marketing team, not a bad social science researcher, who acting like a celebrity “groupie” tells them what they want to hear, as opposed to what they need to hear. The GOP has decided to pursue policies that appeal to a small shrinking segment of the American population. The author’s thesis here, is that this cohort can be artificially grown. It is the height of wishful thinking to believe that bad ideas could just be “artificially implanted” (I just couldn’t help it) into a generation of Americans, such that they would shift their politically loyalties. The real problem is in the details of policies that are based on principles that offend a larger, and growing segment of the population. Women for example are going to seek more, and better equality in all segments of society; and to the GOP’s dismay, complete control concerning matters that affect their personal physiology. Those same women are going to join a large coalition of Americans who want to see support, not senseless cuts to education and health care. The writer forgets that Democrats, unlike the Republicans have been learning for some time how to “manage” their language. We have not heard them use the word “Liberal” in quite a while; and even the ascendancy of the first Black President has not stop the trend started by the Clinton administration of going silent on the vocabulary of helping  the “Poor” (heavily concentrated in our communities of color). The poor (working and not working) have been dropped for a serious, exclusive and committed relationship with the “Middle-Class”. There is however, a glimmer of hope for the GOP in that the Democrats are now running real scared of sounding, well, compassionate and caring toward those in our society who are suffering due to no fault of their own. The Democrats could in the future, overplay this appeal to those “hard to find and define”; independents and  ‘moderate conservatives’. I  predict (since we are in the utilizing bad research mode) that as the economy improves, unemployment drops and the employed feel more secure in their present jobs; Americans will shift toward a more giving and caring society (Oh, that dreaded word, “entitlements”; imagine being entitled to a decent: home, food, health and education, being something bad!). This can’t bode well for the Grand Opposition Party. To stop the bleeding, and rationalize their presence in government, they are going to have to start being for something, as opposed to being against most things governmental. But “Birthing” (I could not help it again) more old conservative angry White Guys, is not happening. We can juggle research data to say whatever we want it to say; but the maternity ward numbers don’t lie. And even if they put some type of love potion into bottles, and distribute them to the Tea Party faithful; we humans, unlike some other organisms on the planet, aren’t built for producing large numbers of offspring. This means the GOP is fighting a three front war against: mathematics,science and time. The end is predictable; for as those Motown biologists, the Supremes, have told us; our species can do research; but we “Can’t Hurry Love”

Want to Hide Freedom?….Put it in a Book!

 

Colbert King: “Illiteracy is D.C.’s biggest challenge…. Without readers, there’s no hope for the District.”

http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/colbert-king-illiteracy-is-dcs-biggest-challenge/2013/03/08/f4a2b54e-8776-11e2-98a3-b3db6b9ac586_story.html

 

Indeed; But so is “weak (far below grade level) literacy”. And, where is the outrage, the sense of urgency? Frederick Douglass said it best in his autobiography; Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave:   

  “The more I read, the more I was led to abhor and detest my enslavers. I could regard them in no other light than a band of successful robbers, who had left their homes, and gone to Africa, and stolen us from our homes, and in a strange land reduced us to slavery. I loathed them as being the meanest as well as the most  wicked of men. As I read and contemplated the subject, behold! that very discontentment which Master Hugh had predicted would follow my learning to read had already come, to torment and sting my soul to unutterable anguish.”     

Yes, the ability to read, and reading, opens a space in us that is forever open. When we read we are placed in a  place, that is resistant to the confined space created by  any who would under-expect our potential, or undermine our high expectations for ourselves. Reading invites that “anything good is possible” into our hearts. The mind can’t be held captive; can’t be designated to the back seat of the #47% bus. As a poor kid growing up in some very dangerous Brooklyn streets; I spent endless hours in the demilitarize zone of the Brooklyn Public Library. Once safely in the warm embrace of those bookshelves; I could travel anywhere in the world; yes, time travel to the past or the future; I could read and imagine a different world other than my own; and I could imagine myself being something and somebody special in that world.  And when I left that temple of hope, I strategically picked the check-out clerk  who I knew would allow me to go over the Book-lending maximum (Oh Bless you, wherever you are:-) For I was the reading version of the “young and the restless”, If I ran out of books to read. I did not give much thought then (what adolescent would) as to why so many other kids my age did  not see the transcending-transformational joy and power of reading.  Later when I pursued education as career I realized that for many young people their experience with reading was/is the opposite of my own. Reading for them is not immersing and relaxing yourself in language; it is more like being lost, and struggling to learn a “second foreign language”. Those strange figures and symbols, called words, that were printed on the page were not your friend; they were rather, some type of cruel unsolvable puzzle. Reading produced  a source of dread and embarrassment when they were called upon to read aloud in class. I on the other hand could not wait to read aloud in class; my struggle was to “slow-down”, as I was reading for public consumption.  I loved my super-mastery  powers to be able to pronounce “hard words”; to soar fearlessly over the text. I was a Muhammad Ali of reading for; I could float over sentences, and sting difficult words like a bee. And at the end of my reading presentation, the ever expected and received: “Good job, Michael”; from the teacher. At that time I had no idea who Frederick Douglass was, or anything about his book.  But when reading I knew I felt proud, and empowered. It was like being poor and having a lot of money in your pocket. One of my proudest moments in the power of reading was when Ms. Shapiro, my fourth grade teacher put a newly arrived to class student named Juan in the seat next to me. Juan had just arrived half-way into the school year from Puerto Rico. Back then there were no ESL programs; and so my teacher called me to her desk and  said: “Michael, I want you to help Juan when we have reading time, he is just learning to speak English”. It was one of those kind acts, and kind of acts that positively mark you for life. You would think I had just won an Academy Award, an Oscar, or the Nobel Peace Prize for Reading. I took on the task of helping  Juan with his reading like it was a paying job. I helped him during class, before class, after-class, in the school yard, in the lunch room. I was determined, and took it on as a personal mission that Juan and I would not go on to the 5th grade, and he was not able to read. And of course, no self-respecting 4th grader back then wanted to disappoint their teacher; or fail at an esteem boosting honorable appointment. Naturally, the teacher did not tell me Juan’s end of year reading score; and I didn’t ask. But it seem to me that by all of my knowledgeable and objective 4th grade criteria Juan had greatly improved in his reading. In any event we went on to the 5th grade; and Juan latter united with me in a gifted and talented middle school program; where he was one of the top readers. Over the years I have watched the pained look of high school students who beg with their eyes that you don’t call on them to read out loud, either something on the board, or in a book. I have known  brilliant 9th grade students who are able to master Biology through visual picture and auditory methods; because they can’t read the text book. I have read the “elementary level” translations of the lesson notes in their notebook (This is actually a smart decision: why take class notes that you can’t latter read). They very often do well because the “language” of science is essentially a new language for everyone in the class; but good readers have an advantage; for example they can read and/or already familiar with the word “diversity”, or they have seen “di” in front of other words they knew from other readings, and so putting “Bio” in front of it does not stretch their understanding. Finally, they have had a lot of reading practice where they utilized “context clues” to decipher word meaning; thus, they can move quickly on to the next phrase.  The “poor” reading student can do well (in fact we proved in Brooklyn that you can actually teach a 3rd or 4th grader to master high school Biology by minimizing the text book, and teaching it like foreign language acquisition) in science, but they can’t ever do their best.  And, You are left to wonder; wow, what if this kid could read, and study the text book!  Good reading skills are essential to all subject areas; a poor test score in mathematics, could in part be due to the inability to “read and understand the question”. It is not that students don’t know the algorithm (the way to solve the problem); they simply don’t know what they are being asked to do.

Reading ability in the 1800’s was political; and in the year 2013 it is still political. You ever think of what would happen if we taught all children to read? If we did not have a small group of winners (good-readers), and a larger group of those who are lost (non-readers)? The problem then is;  what do you do with so many aspiring young people who are prepared to enter higher education and/or the workforce? How could our economy cope with high school graduation rates that exceeded 60%(and what if 100% of that 60% really graduated by truly meeting 12th grade literacy standards!)  What we need Mr. King is a militant-serious-take no prisoners;  lobby/advocacy group to fight for these kids. A real, and not rhetorical educational civil/human rights movement. Time, in this situation is not an ally.  Our public schools are quickly becoming the feeding grounds for venture capitalist. “Play-pens” for inexperienced ghetto adventurist cashing big checks, while waiting out a slow economy.  The non- reading children of color, the children of the poor, of any color are being relegated to a permanent underclass, which will only serve to feed the social service and criminal justice systems. It is a new twist on a “slave narrative” that removes opportunity by crippling the ability; eliminates potentiality by reading skills denial.. It is a cruel reversal of the Douglass experience. We need no slave masters, no laws prohibiting the teaching of slaves to read; no chains, no slave quarters, just send them to school.

Robotics, not the future; they are the present. Are Black & Latino students absent?

If you are preparing solely for the present employment environment…you will be left behind.

Strongest Robot: http://www.bbc.com/news/technology-21630212; Fastest Robots:            http://www.bbc.com/news/technology-17269535; http://www.bbc.com/news/technology-19506130; Guard Robots: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/technology-15893772

FIRST Robotics (http://www.usfirst.org/) Black and Latino students need to get involved!

Reading Into The True Meaning of Black History

(With gratefulness and appreciation to Al Vann and Milfred Fierce; who taught a reluctant teenager about the importance of studying Black History. And to John Henrik Clarke and Kenneth Clark who taught a “knew it all” undergraduate at CCNY, that there was a great deal more he needed to know to call himself educated; thank you all for your patience, with a growing me)

“The more I read, the more I was led to abhor and detest my enslavers. I could regard them in no other light than a band of successful robbers, who had left their homes, and gone to Africa, and stolen us from our homes, and in a strange land reduced us to slavery…..” –Frederick Douglass, Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglas

“When you control a man’s thinking you do not have to worry about his actions. You do not have to tell him not to stand here or go yonder. He will find his ‘proper place’ and will stay in it. You do not need to send him to the back door. He will go without being told. In fact, if there is no back door, he will cut one for his special benefit. His education makes it necessary.” –Carter G. Woodson, The Mis-Education of the Negro

 

Teach the children a history that includes the struggle for freedom and dignity; and why the ability to read a book, to know and master mathematics, science, writing, technology, the arts, music are the best and most feared weapons in the hands, and heads of the disenfranchised and disinherited.  And so celebrate this month by (a) Reading a Powerful Book. (b)Teaching a child to read. (c) Strengthening a child’s reading skills. (d) Providing a reading child with a powerful reading level appropriate book. I ask you the adults to extend your “Gifted Hands” (Ben Carson) and explore “The Souls of Black Folk” (W.E.B. Du Bois); knowing “They Came Before Columbus” (Ivan Van Sertima);in “Precolonial Black Africa” (Cheikh Anta Diop); and “Before the Mayflower” (Lerone Bennett), to understand “How Europe Underdeveloped Africa” (Walter Rodney) and thus gave birth to “Capitalism & Slavery” (Sir Eric Williams); And yet we fought to come “Up from Slavery” (Booker T. Washington), and “From Slavery To Freedom” (John Hope Franklin); for “There is a River” (Vincent Harding) and “The Negro Speaks of Rivers” (Langston Hughes) and crossing over into freedom. All this has taught me that “Nothing’s Impossible” (Lorraine Monroe), and that I always have “A Choice of Weapons” (Gordon Parks) to take me above and beyond the “Fences” (August Wilson) and barriers that hold me artificially captive “In the Castle of My Skin” (George Lamming). Nothing worthwhile is easy, and there will be some setbacks. However, “The Struggle Is My Life” (Nelson Mandela), and sometimes “Things Fall Apart” (Chinua Achebe); yet despite “The Wall” (Gwendolyn Brooks), we continue to try; at times, we feel we are the “Sport Of The Gods” (Paul Lawrence Dunbar) and hide our failure inside “The House Behind the Cedars” (Charles W. Chesnutt); and sometimes it is with great sorrow that we still try, for it is “Not Without Laughter” (Langston Hughes), for “Behind the Mountains” (Edwidge Danticat), behind every obstacle is “A Love Supreme” (John Coltrane) and our “Ancestral Memories” (Romare Bearden) of being “Born to Rebel” (Benjamin E. Mays). And we may be “A Long Way From Home” (Claude Mckay); and yet “Here I Stand” (Paul Robeson), knowing “The Measure of Our Successes” (Marian Wright Edelman) is the success of “Other Peoples Children” (Lisa Delpit); not just our own, that counts in the end. This may mean raising a lot of “Cane” (Jean Toomer); drawing and letting loose “The Arrow Of God” (Chinua Achebe) upon the forces of denial; but “In Love and In Struggle” (Alice Walker) we must push on as “The Beautiful Ones Are Not Yet Born” (Ayi Kewi Armah). So “Weep not Child” (Ngugi Wa Tiong’o), for the “Interpreters” (Wole Soyinka) have given great thought as to how a “Native Son” (Richard Wright), an “Invisible Man” (Ralph Ellison) could become “No Longer at Ease” (Chinua Achebe) in the land of his birth. How could a man be convinced to become a “Boy” (Ferdinand Oyono) in the land of promise? And yet “Still We Rise” (Maya Angelou) to every challenge, to every setback. “If Beale Street Could Talk” (James Baldwin) and offer us the “Revelations” (Alvin Ailey) of our sprits, they would say that this is “The Price of the Ticket” (James Baldwin) and the reason “Why We Can’t Wait” (Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.) or get discouraged; for we must “Believe” (Desmond Tutu) and gather “Quiet Strength” (Tony Dungy) from each other; because even in the worst of times there were shining examples of “Blacks In Science” (Ivan Van Sertima) and a “Parable of the Talents” (Octavia Butler);and in those horrible difficult times we saw the brilliance of “Banneker” (Rita Dove). The “Strong Men” (Sterling Brown) and “Our Mothers Who Gave us Birth” (Sonia Sanchez) planted “God’s Bits of Wood” (Ousmene Sembene) that blossomed into “Afrolantica Legacies (Derrick Bell); this gave us the strength to struggle and the “Strength to Love” (Martin Luther King). And so “Lord, the people have driven me on” (Benjamin E. Mays); our great intellectual traditions enshrined in the “Ark of Bones” (Henry Dumas); We keep these sacred truths “On Call” (June Jordan) in our memory of promise. And so I pass on my work in progress, to those “Coming of Age in the Hip-Hop Generation” (Askia Davis Sr. & Jr.) and the generations to follow; I live in, and with the hope that they will always have “The Courage to Hope” (Cornel West); the very “Audacity of Hope” (Barack Obama) that will lift even the “Whispers from a Continent” (Wilfred Cartey); they will then be able to “Lift Every Voice And Sing” (James Weldon Johnson); and they won’t ever, ever “Let Nobody Turn Us Around” (Manning Marable)!

MAJ/2/8/13