I Keep Holding On...

When you think you shut down something in order to avoid a terrible mistake, you end up making more mistakes to add to the one that you thought you've avoided. That was destroying something that was already strained in the most fantastic of ways. So i can do what, exactly...avoid being dishonest? I made myself look stupid in my decisions in love, and now I have nothing here in this heart. Working has replaced my emotions. I can't muster enough to recapture what was, nor even spark what little I have left. That explains why my ass is up on All Hallows' Eve typing this shit to you all. But the title has its purpose. I must regain ground. My capoeira has been stronger and trickier than the old mess I've practiced. I have gained three jobs, one being an entrepreneurship. I have eaten and felt healthier. To conclude these revelations for now, I've finally learned how to say "no", without actually saying it! Thank egun! i attribute all of my experiences of this up and down "5" year to my ancestors and orisa, and how they've guided me through my tumult ans triumphs. Albeit there's a lingering love that I still carry for this person, I still recognize that movement happens when you initiate the move. I don't regret the situation. In fact, as much as it hurts to see her smile without me, it actually makes me happy to see her do so, knowing all of the things she's experienced in the past three years. I will continue to ask for more blessing for her family and their livelihood.

As for me...well, I plan on taking this new business further. By January, I hope to make it officially a running non-profit for this community. I made a silly assumption about how I felt and did not listen to the inner God about this person that made a presence after my ex. Thank goodness it was short lived and not a situation of presumable love. I needed true time after my ex, and I didn't give it enough, due to my weakness in accepting the relationship's downfall. therefore, my egun let me know quickly what I needed to do to return back to my higher self. Truth be told, I do miss my ex, but I don't miss the struggling. I wish I didn't have to split with her, but I think we both did so in order to be better people. Maybe there will be a recon or our souls or togetherness. Until then, we are reminded to treasure the good times that or emotions bring us. Funny how love works. I am reminded by Caretta Bell's song verse: "Love Lets You Be Free."

You are sure right, Ms. Bell.

Ifeanyi Okoro
10/31/2010

Aquarian Questions The Age

Originally posted from Facebook Notes page, Monday, July 27, 2009 at 2:51am.

*I added on a few things today.


Not in all of my 29+ years have I experienced so many variations and declarations of new relationships, marriages, divorces, moving, staying, murders, sudden deaths, births, financial turmoil, and social uprisings. Is the Age of Aquarius staring to show early signs? Is it that nothing surprises us anymore, or that everything will catch us off guard? What makes these snap turns and judgments happen? Why so much quick change? Big names and idols fall harder, as small countries are showing resolve and revolt. What are your opinions? What do you see as the turning point? Or is this just "life" (scapegoat answer)? Is it astronomy and numerology? Is it a system?

*Questions are popping up in my dream and appearing to me in my eyesight. What is it about this year that is spiraling down for this black man in relationships? Why am I still working for peanuts when I am more than the elephant's show? Where will I live next? Is my health in jeopardy? I can only explain the situation hat I've ended up in. Sharing a house, commuting to the job that's only for a short period of time (for meager pay), and being able to get myself together in a slow way. It still feels distant and detached. For now, I will let the ori lead the way. I should have in the beginning. I know now that egun and some helping hands cannot be a deterrent for my situation. The stars don't hold me back, nor does a decision from divination and casting. I am guided by my soul.

How about you? What are you guided by?

I BeLOnG II (5 Day Edition)

So blah blah blah, meeting on Monday. The drummer came in, no Sarah. She is a professional dancer, you know. From Uganda, no less! The South African dance teacher came to replace her, no big. It went well. It's good to see Africans reconnect. However, the young boys are playing a bit too much, while the girls are getting serious. Where have we heard this before? yeah, I understand there is a such thing as a childhood, but really, when you have a Sunday like we did previously (hearing about last Friday's runaway from Blackshear Elementary School, a school already mired in controversy over an apparent attempted suicide by an 8 year-old, and a young student sexually assaulted by three trifling-ass men in a tinted car right near our block) this seems to be small. Seems. There is nothing that guarantees these young men will make it here. Everyone's a damn 'doughboy' (thanks to Jeezy and Gucci and Wayne, etc.). Makes no damn sense that we blame hip-hop. Really, blame those who utilize hip-hop for the sexually explicit and derogatory comments that I hear sung by these young boys coming into my classroom.
But I digress. Tuesday, I got a taste of Project Row Houses' "competition". These MacGregor Elementary children are extra special, yet their demeanor leaves one to think that music keeps them calm and at bay, for they are SUPER hyper! I thought my group was amped. Emaniah Shinar (some African man in extravagant clothing and equally extravagant behavior) has molded both of these youth groups into a steel drumming machine. They have learned at least four, if not five songs. Simply ridiculous. MacGregor showed out.The announcement for the performance dates were given, and needless to say, I hope we can improve before the 23rd of April (commercial promo at MacGregor) ...we will be there Saturday and Sunday at IFEST (Houston International Festival) throwing down. Shinar has done wonderful things that I have backed him for since he touched base in 3rd Ward (or since I've seen him). He's also put me in a position to re-evaluate everything I choose. At a point in my life where I suffered a huge blow to my confidence and relationship, he shed light onto an appearance of a certain "sista" that always shows up towards the end of my relationships. Of course, he even tried to pair us together, but that history with her goes back, and respectfully, I think she is here for guidance and a shoulder to lean on.
Again, let's skip this and move on to Wednesday. Art and writing with two instructors with an Indian background. I was thinking Ms. Keya (Mitra) was actually indigenous and of this land (what some would consider "Indian" as compared to Cherokee), however "Mitra" should have been some sort of giveaway. She is so mild-mannered. Maybe too mild-mannered. She looks like a movie star that could play a teacher. But she always gets the children crunk enough to jot some lyrics or bars. You heard right. I have never been so amped to see my group scribble some rap lyrics and poetry. Summer and Amaya always put in the silliest and most creative. I love it when the parents come to hear their children rhyme. Keya must have caught my old-school hip-hop vibe/poetry aura, because she's giving them Nikki Giovanni and Sugar Hill Gang!! Or is she just "ill"... hmmm.
On to Thursday and Friday. Thursday, we discussed Lemonade Day (May 2nd) with the children, and, oh yes, they are stoked (totally, dude)! I'm hoping it will be better than last year's, seeing that a young sista outside of the ASP sold the unique lemonade we offered like it was life insurance, while our smartest and straight-forward sistas in the program bickered, and almost threw down. *SMH* Everyone has great ideas, and we (Jesse Lott, Sara, Corisha, Daja and I) taste-tested lemonade varieties, built and painted the stand, and stayed late night to celebrate our project culmination, which was later discovered to be thrown away this year. This group I have is ready to tackle the great job ahead, and not scared to go at it, "feet first". One parent offered her services in managing the crew, (part-time event and catering planner), but I cajoled her into just putting in work as they've always done, no more, no less. Sorry, I love my group like you love your children, parents, but, yeah...they are mine when it's project time. ONLY. *laughing*
Friday - Good God Almighty on the throne of everlasting truth and power...I witnessed a beatdown (not physical, per se) of epic proportions: My 2nd-4th grade girls smoked the daylights out of the boys. Nothing new, right? What about these same girls beating 7th and 8th graders?!? Seriously, I remember when it was cool to find an uspet here or there. Now, it's rampant! It's becoming a trend to upend! Zipporah, the smallest of my 2nd grade girls, was fast enough to beat some of my second grade boys by at least a few yards. Artizia, 4th grader, only passed up a checkpoint before losing to Dujuan, another 4th grader, and the only boy to stay on course to win the title "Project Row Houses' fastest kid." Then I lost the door key (how Esu is that?!?) I had to explain to Ms. Lee about how the key got lost. I mean up and disappeared. I know that's gonna be more fire from the church about that. But I think they can cover a 5 dollar expense as such, seeing the big flat screen TV in the reception center must have been a much needed prayer tool. *rolls eyes* Anyway, the children went home, and I was building with my homie, T. He's still young, but able to make some room when he can focus. After that, I was dropped off at the train station going to Downtown Houston for one of the greatest nights I had. Sort of.
I won four Aqua Teen Hunger Force (LIVE) tickets off of Twitter (See? It is useful!) and scored some Houston Luau Party reservations for seven people three days before. Since I have such great friends that wanted to join along, (Grand total = 0) I made the stop at Hard Rock. Only it wasn't AT Hard Rock, because I thought House of Blues was located in that same area!!! Well, I regrouped, and I started on to HOB.
Never been there.
Will be going back.
God Bless Houston, Texas.
I've heard about this supposed bowling alley and whatnot here, but I thought they mean either in the City Hall area or somewhere just a bit past the way. There's a freaking BOWLING ALLEY DOWNTOWN. It's like the Sims exploded here! I saw ladies in bikinis and grass skirts (sadly some pudgy white fellas as well *shudders*) and others dressed up to the letter. Obviously, BOTH events were going on. I didn't check the time beforehand when it said, "Luau starts @ 7 pm and ends @ 2 am". Conflict. ATHF started at...8 pm. and I was missing about 15 minutes of it already trying to locate the damn place. No matter, ATHF first...
OMFG
These cats that created this show:
A: Did a "Show us your Meatwad" contest
B: Acted out the characters with large hand puppets and dummies
C: Cussed like sailors on weekend leave
D: Also created Squidbillies
E: Got an audience member to participate with an aquatic puppet making sexual advances on him.
Answer?
F: All of the above.
I would tell you more, but let's just say the Luau got me too crunk. That is another blog in itself.

Ifeanyi Okoro II

So, who will be the first to stand against...?

You know, it's funny...as I write this blog, the title aptly discusses our futility to mobilize and unify in our own communities.
"What comes next after nothing comes at all?" is a good way of saying:

"Our people have nothing better to do than to kill each other before they celebrate graduating from high school."

Or perhaps I should say it means,

"Let's march around and do candlelight vigils and pray to the Lord until it's our baby's turn to die."
Could it exclaim that,

"We shall overcome, especially in the Year of Obama!", for it's sole entity upon this blog?

I did not know Derrion Albert, nor Eli Escobar, nor Sean Bell, nor Amadou Diallo, or Pedro Oregon, Brandon Mcclelland, James Byrd, Eleanor Bumpurs. In reading (and viewing in some cases) these grizzly murders, it is apparent that the Africans in America, whether brought here by boat unlawfully or by plane ticket, are still under attack. Unfortunately, due to the rampant acts of violence and the emergence of the volatile, unstable black youth, Derrion suffered death at the hands of other these very same people who shared his skin hue.

The question is not if it was he that started it, nor decided to participate in it, nor if he should have been there in the first place. Where were the adults during the melee in the open Chicago streets? While most of the Chicago population were either unaware in their houses or schools, and the others crossing fingers for some worldwide games bid, these children and some teens (and adults) went after each other as if it was a territorial war in Africa. I need the after-school and outreach programs to step up in this situation, preferably our young African males that are capable to take charge and instruct without the social constructs that limit the resources through government aid. They wouldn't give a fuck, anyway. However, Chicago isn't the scapegoat here as well. Houston, (the Historic Wards , Southwest, and South Park) has its share of laxing on the monitoring of our youth and their activities when they leave school, or, for that matter, if they leave the house to pretend to go to school? Compton, St. Louis, and New Orleans as well needs some retooling. Who's down to help, instead of rapping and doing poems about it? No offense to those who do both the oratory and physical labor of improving our situations.

These things were put into place to disrupt black progression since. The children must feel ignored to have dissent in their hearts, and the adults must separate from them in order to exert force and rule in the harshest of ways. I must say this...since he inception of chattel slavery, this system has been designed to tear down the image of the African people, regardless of if we were bound or not. So, where are the chains if we are still bound by self-degradation and hatred?

It's almost as if this Willie Lynch letter has evolved for the millennium. Not again.

I work in an artist/after-school program that has a fortunate few to help experience neighborhood artists as well as national/international artists directly, and hone their own talents. It's by far not the most perfect, and yet, it's long-standing and it does put a chink in the armor of the establishment's ways of destroying black neighborhoods and families. SHAPE, PABA, FUUSA, Blue Triangle, PBUA, and Operation Outreach have a hand in teaching our youth much more than "bangin'" and "slangin'". The children that come from the 3rd Ward and 5th Ward area love to participate in the programs, because they expose their talents to the world and feel much more confident. Yes, America, positivity exists. However, I notice the middle schools now take fads to another level. Saggin' and fight bragging. Video taping brawls and 'scheduled' after school fights to post online (this didn't start with them, people)! they are showing no fear, nor respect for the elders, as they are starting to clog the Ward by purposely walking the streets like vigilantes looking for justice or bloodshed. At this age, the police are licking their chops, for it is all too easy to convict and restrict them for just this alone. Again, where are the adults? Parents, especially? Don't be surprised to hear feedback from the young ones that say their own brother or father jumped them into a gang, like I heard from these two young students over the summer tell me and my co-worker. Non-profits need help as well. let's also look for help within. What's wrong with leaving the club or bar alone for that night to put in 5 dollars a week to preserve a small area for the children to learn something about our legacy??!?! Donate to black-owned. But not just any, to the ones who are using it for the greater good of the uplifting of our people, intellectually.

The police has a nice target on the backs of our black youth, as well as our elderly and, what seems to be the new trend, our women. I've been receiving disturbing emails and video interviews of young girls they put away as young, as 12 years old, for life. Some of them have their children in prison. Most are either abused children/women, or accused by the real perps that left paraphernalia in their possession unknowingly. It is NOT the police's job to protect us. It is our own. We should be able to police ourselves. Why not? Wasn't it your mother or auntie that whooped your ass when you did something crosstown, or when you acted a plum fool in church or at the library? Wasn't it your daddy that got that ass when you decided to steal something from the old man's house, or chunk a rock at the elderly family's window? Are we that "screwed and chopped up" in the Land of Syrup that we'd rather think it's cool to sport a faux-hawk, some Forces, and some skinny jeans on our children so we could be accepted...by THEM?!?
Where does the buddy system stop and the parenting begin? Better yet, where's the mentoring of our black males?!? The police's job is to make sure that your ass stays right on the plantation. Avoid the 'boys in blue' and corral your youngins into the house and learn them the ways of the elders. I need not hear about "Maaaaan, you know, Pook an em comin' out in three, but I was up in there, and Dice got shot. Imma come through and get my heat on em for dat" bullshit on the bus anymore. It is NOT COOL TO BE INCARCERATED. That is not a badge of honor. In fact, the 'badge' and 'your honor' put you there. Get it right.

Let's zero in on this foolery. First off, the radio airwaves will allow poison to wave freely as long as you have a conduit for it to be carried through. Derisive and derogatory comments on young black women and girls will continue if we done not hold those in charge responsible. My niece knows Jeremih' horrid ass song of "Birthday Sex", and yet, when she grows up, God forbid you'd have some brother trying to exude his machismo through the lure of illicit songwriting and fuckery. If someone can rap to you about 'knockin' down girls' (promiscuous bragging), selling dope (or how they used to), and flashing gaudy, ridiculous clothing with a name on it that they can't spell on a Speak and Say (Texas Instruments - old school), but offer NO POSITIVE OUTLET to avoid the trap, do you think the children will take the high road to intelligence, or 'Superman' that ass onto hustlin' for the cheddar on the corner? Television DOES NOT RAISE OUR CHILDREN. Get them the hell out of in front of the screen, and give them a book. Teach them a language. My nephew is learning Capoeira moves as I learn, giving him another way of expression. Introduce them to African countries, or customs. Something other than programming that has our children addicted to speaking like they have rocks in their mouth (i.e. Teletubbies).

Brother Jesse Muhammad (Final Call newspaper & @brotherjesse on Twitter.com) has made the beckoning towards we few black males to take part in a resurgence of mending the black male youth's image and ambition. I heed the call, and I'm sure other cities will do so as well. Do not let Chicago put us into shock and awe for a young man that many will soon pass his death of as a "killing in vain". If we have to put together a panel, or posse, something will and must be done continuously to stop the direct attack on our black youth. Otherwise, we cam show how our swag is supreme in the state pen. Parents, leaders, ADULTS in general. Put down your technologies and help, or put that technology to work and let's save our youth!

Enough marching. Let's mount up and make it happen.