tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63923947297176657442024-02-18T23:17:13.158-08:00Kai's (Bi)Weekly JamsI love music! I love soul music! I love old skool music! Because music makes me happy and I am really taking the time to make this dissertation writing process one that I survive in a healthy and holistic way, I have decided to make a point to discover and sometimes rediscover the music that moves me. I'll add a song every week with some of my musings. Hope you enjoy and respond.Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-21207070078396195892014-09-01T11:16:00.002-07:002014-09-01T11:20:23.260-07:00Save Tonight/ Dear LA/ Our Last Jam;-)<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK:</b> </div>
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Save Tonight by Eagle-Eye Cherry has been one of my favorite songs since 7th grade. It's the perfect farewell tune, I only wish that Martine, Treva and I had had enough time to record our cover (I believe this still can happen;-).</div>
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<b>Kai's Thoughts:</b> </h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">This is my last jam. My last post for this blog which has carried me through these last couple of years of graduate school. :::::BIIIGGGGGG EXHALE::::: WE MADE IT!!!!!!!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">I told Megan (LA native), "You know, LA is a city of survivors." It's one of the most difficult cities, but if you can make it in LA---> well I think you can make it just about anywhere. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">WE MADE IT!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">So I am grateful. Grateful for the struggles, the traffic, the heat, the mountains, the ocean, the backyard bbqs, the late night, afternoon, early morning porch conversations about all the possible Black queer futures we might be able to create, or the tools we might use to survive a dystopic future/present.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">Lessons Learned:</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">1. Everything I need, I have.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">2. Self-love is a prerequisite for all other love. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">3. I don't have to internalize other people's ish.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">Dear LA,</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">I arrived at your doorstep 7 years ago. I was 22. It's crazy to think that I spent most of my twenties in your house. I always knew this thing we had wouldn't last, but I appreciate you for teaching me what I need to know for this next phase. Because of you, LA, I'm stronger. Because of you, LA, I now know how to recognize the sound of my own voice, the conviction of my own intuition and I trust it (now), like I trust God. Because of you, LA, I know that God is love, God is me, and nothing/nobody can tell me any different. LA, you're a bad ass city and I respect you. Thank you for helping to mold me into this man. This letter is short, because that's just how our relationship be(s). I'll visit real soon. <3<3<3 Dr. Kai M. Green</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">#imreadynow </span></div>
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Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-86263996993829923232013-08-06T11:00:00.003-07:002013-08-06T11:05:43.052-07:00Blood on The Leaves Remix<b><b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK:</b></b><br />
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Thank you, Jasiri X, for continuing to make that Abolitionist Music! Let's Get Free!</div>
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<b>Kai's Thoughts: </b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Original work by Taijhet Nyobi</td></tr>
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<a href="http://www.blackyouthproject.com/2013/08/if-our-freedom-is-criminal-we-must-change-the-laws/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">If our Freedom is Criminal, We Must Change the Laws</span></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">I remember the night Troy Davis was lynched. I remember the
anxiety I felt -- the sadness and the worry. And then I remember thinking that
I had no right to feel so much. I imagined what Davis and his family must have
felt and I wanted to respect and honor that. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">Just before the lynching, I went for a jog around my neighborhood
in South Los Angeles. I remember running, sprinting, trying to rid myself of
all that “so much” that I felt.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">I was running towards a freedom of my mind, spirit and body. But
my stride was halted when a police car crept up beside me. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">I had to remember that I was a Black man now. And a Black man
running on concrete could easily be the death of me in the United States. So I
stopped and walked slowly instead.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">I made eye contact with the officers. I didn’t smile. I didn’t
frown. I stared. There was nothing in my eyes that would make them see me as
anything other than a Black man running on a night when we were all being reminded
nationally that Blackness makes you guilty, criminal, not worthy of life, and
all the evidence needed -- your Black skin and feet crossing the road. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">It didn’t matter that I had grown up a Black woman. I didn’t
matter that I was a PhD candidate at USC. It didn’t matter that I had a family
and friends who loved me. My bright smile didn’t matter because they would
never be able to see it. None of those things that would need to be pulled out
in some courtroom after my death to prove me a “good” person mattered in that
moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">The officers glanced me over and I feared if I had kept running
they might shoot. I knew then that Troy Davis would certainly be put to death.
And he was.</span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">***</span></b></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">I remember riding the BART the night Oscar Grant was murdered. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">I remember watching the film, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/goingoutguide/movies/fruitvale-station-humanizes-a-man-behind-the-headlines/2013/07/17/587e9284-eee9-11e2-bed3-b9b6fe264871_story.html"><span style="color: black;">Fruitvale Station</span></a></i>, last week with friends in
New York. I remember my tears. I remember the deafening silence that lingered
in the theater as the credits rolled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">I remember the last scene. Daughter looking up to mother in shower
and asking, “Where is Daddy?” They were alone now and what was missing, the silence
between them would never be able to fill. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">What this film did so brilliantly was to show the spectacular
violence that Black people are subject to from everyday living. Yes, Oscar
Grant was an everyday brother from Oakland. He was struggling to make ends
meet, struggling to stay out of prison, and struggling to be a support to his
family. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">His mother, like many parents in the Bay on New Years Eve, told
him to take the BART because that would be safer than driving with so many
after party people on the road. But public amenities are not always safer for
us Black people, People of color, queer people, transgender people, women, and
poor people. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">What is designated public is not always safe or adequate for the
people who use those services. The recent gutting of The<a href="http://thefeministwire.com/2013/07/dispatch-from-the-very-house-of-difference-anti-black-racism-and-the-expansion-of-sexual-citizenship-or-we-need-to-do-so-much-better-at-loving-each-other/"><span style="color: black;"> Voting Rights Act</span></a> and the dismantling of <a href="http://www.blackyouthproject.com/2013/06/philadelphia-to-close-23-public-schools-while-building-400-million-prison/"><span style="color: black;">public school education</span></a> all across the country
are but two examples of the ways in which peoples’ indelible rights are constantly
being revoked or revised to obsolescence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">If one can’t afford private school or a car service on New Years
Eve there should be no risk, but it is apparent that there are for Black
people, people of color, and poor people.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">We must continue to demand that our public systems benefit the
people who need the education, health care, transportation, and job services
the most. We must not allow our public expenses to be spent on building more
prisons and policing regimes that do not benefit us. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">We must begin to ask ourselves hard questions like — What does
safety look like if it does not come in the form of more police and
incarceration? </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;"> To Read the full piece click <a href="http://www.blackyouthproject.com/2013/08/if-our-freedom-is-criminal-we-must-change-the-laws/" target="_blank">here:</a> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">
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Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-36282965463138113342013-05-22T14:46:00.001-07:002013-05-22T15:05:37.849-07:00I Remember You<b><b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK:</b></b><br />
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<b>Kai's Thoughts: </b><br />
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I came home to cry. I came home to celebrate. I came home to
heal. I came home to (re)member. I am grateful. </div>
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One year ago today, I had top-surgery. One year ago today, I
was in a hospital bed waiting. I believe I was #8 in a line of transguys all
waiting to be changed. We smiled at each other from our beds. I wasn’t afraid
because you were there with me physically, spiritually and emotionally—I was
held and I am grateful. </div>
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I remember you today, Analena. The support you gave and the
sacrifice you made to support me. I remember today, your suitcase heavy with
books because you had to take qualifying exams as soon as we got back to LA.
You held my hand. You made me laugh. You prayed with me and for me. You cared
for my body when I couldn’t and I am grateful for you, your love and
friendship. Thank you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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I remember you today, Jolie and Treva who came and cleaned
my house and changed my bandages. I was afraid of my scars. I was afraid to
look. I was afraid to touch. You held me. All I had to do was stand there and
you all loved me and helped me to heal. Thank you. </div>
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I remember you today, Prentis. You have been an amazing big
brother and I wouldn’t be the man I am today without you. Your love, support,
and mentorship have shaped me and helped me to grow in ways that I didn’t even
know existed. You have helped me to become more aware and conscious. I love
you. </div>
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I remember you today, Tree, Rey and M.A., I am thankful for
your love and the way you teach me community. Thank you.</div>
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I remember you today, Julia and Alexis, for the poetry you
wrote, for the candles you lit, for the prayers that held me when I couldn’t
hold myself. I am thankful for you. </div>
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I remember you today, Erica. My real life superhero, I love
you. You remind me always of how powerful I am. You help me to see my own
strength when I forget. Your brilliance, your love, your friendship has helped
me to heal. I thank you.</div>
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I remember you today, Ms. Vargo, my seventh grade English
teacher who donated to my top surgery fund and still checks in on me regularly.
You taught me the meaning of emotional intelligence. You encouraged me to
write. I am thankful for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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I remember you today, Qween. You conducted ceremony for my
community and me. You blessed me and sent me off with divine protection from
the ancestors. I thank you.<br />
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I remember you today, Jewel, my Black queer elder, healer.
You gave me acupuncture and tinctures to help me heal in ways that Western medicine
could never do. You gave me the love of a grandmother and I appreciate you. </div>
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I remember you. I remember you and the poems you wrote, the
letters you sent, the candles you burned, the songs you sang, the prayers you
sent up, the donations you made, the phone calls and texts messages sent. You
held me. You continue to hold me and I grow stronger so that I can return that
same love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From Top Surgery Ceremony W/ Qween</td></tr>
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There are too many names to list, but know that I remember
you. You showed up for me and I am grateful. Those of you who lit candles,
burned sage, and whispered words of love to the universe on my behalf
THANK YOU!</div>
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I believe I can do all things through Christ who gives me
strength. </div>
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I also believe that all of us hold the divine/God/love
within us. </div>
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If both of those statements are true then, I can do all
things because of my community who gives me strength.</div>
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I send you love today and everyday. I pray for you today and
everyday. </div>
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<br />
On this 1-year anniversary, I look at my body amazed at its
capacity to heal and grow stronger. I know that this is only possible because I
have a community of folks standing with me—peers, young people, mentors,
elders, and ancestors.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidaeEy1_fZdINOenTBc9daF2Zeh3U4jlLMounKHTXT9JUmQrOUnU0Gp4UY095MMFYyzCTROx_fLDhSZH4hLXT4Dg7pV9lAu_o6TDboZEC2ZTxduDLJ1eGYzMVM2dDhv9IPS0qyoq0l7M1T/s1600/IMG_7245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidaeEy1_fZdINOenTBc9daF2Zeh3U4jlLMounKHTXT9JUmQrOUnU0Gp4UY095MMFYyzCTROx_fLDhSZH4hLXT4Dg7pV9lAu_o6TDboZEC2ZTxduDLJ1eGYzMVM2dDhv9IPS0qyoq0l7M1T/s320/IMG_7245.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">About a year ago</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8LVdC0VTbejbaSuGi_nmd9YLOqTkU3OMsxub3wiW-fTR55YhY4BKEEvsuOYVop62yLptYaMMtatZDeP1ArpqJ86jr9xxdpih07iwyN2cVs88ygyaszlhiwKLYV-wmARurZhrjOl6mkJUq/s1600/photo.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8LVdC0VTbejbaSuGi_nmd9YLOqTkU3OMsxub3wiW-fTR55YhY4BKEEvsuOYVop62yLptYaMMtatZDeP1ArpqJ86jr9xxdpih07iwyN2cVs88ygyaszlhiwKLYV-wmARurZhrjOl6mkJUq/s320/photo.png" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yesterday!</td></tr>
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<br />
We are dandelions rising, always rising. We are poems
dancing, always dancing. We are lovers, always loving. Love. We are healers,
always healing. We are freedom’s dreams, always coming true. We are survivors,
surviving even though no one told us we could do it this way. We are. We are.
And we forever will be…</div>
Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-67598662317131683252013-03-12T10:39:00.000-07:002013-03-12T10:39:08.059-07:00Butterfly<h3 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"><b>KAI's SONG(s) OF THE WEEK: </b></span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"><b> </b></span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">I encourage you all to check out <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bilal_%28American_singer%29">Bilal's</a> new Album, <i><a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/03/10/bilal-a-love-surreal-recording-new-album_n_2845592.html">A Love Surreal (2013)</a>. </i>I've listened to the whole album multiple times, which is something that I rarely do. The album feels like a non-linear journey through love/life. </span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">Bilal definitely drops some poetic knowledge and it's important to be able to feel that today when it's so easy to become desensitized to what's going on around us, outside us, but also inside us. </span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">How can we create a new world if we don't have visions of what we want? Our imaginations become stifled when we are disconnected from ourselves and each other.</span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">The fact that Bilal's Album is called <i>A Love Surreal </i>cannot be taken lightly. It is the kind of love we need to day, a courageous kind. </span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">In my favorite book, <i>Freedom Dreams: The Black Radical Imagination, </i>Robin D.G. Kelley writes: "Surrealism, I contend, offers a vision of freedom far deeper and more expansive than any of the movements discussed thus far. It is a movement that invites dreaming, urges us to improvise and invent, and recognizes the imagination as our most powerful weapon."(159). </span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> </span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">Imagine...a caterpillar becoming a butterfly...one thing becoming another...how do we get there? </span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> </span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">I encourage you to listen to the album, but I will feature the track <i><a href="http://www.songlyrics.com/bilal/butterfly-lyrics/">Butterfly.</a> </i></span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"><i> </i></span></span></span></h3>
<h3 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">"The struggle makes you beautiful."</span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> </span></span></span></h3>
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<h3>
<b> </b></h3>
<h3>
<b>Kai's Thoughts:
<span style="font-family: Times;"></span></b><b></b> </h3>
When I die, do not bury me<br />
Let me roam free<br />
I will go to places that in this life I will never get to see<br />
In this body and with these eyes<br />
Restricted by these pockets<br />
Empty, though big in debt size.<br />
<br />
But my soul is full<br />
Filled with contradiction<br />
A mere reflection of the current state of things at large<br />
Land of the free home of the greatest population<br />
Behind bloody prison bars<br />
<br />
But my soul knows free<br />
And escapes like Harriet in the night <br />
And Mumia's voice, freedom only needs one a mic<br />
And Marlon, traversing between<br />
What is and what ain't<br />
Untying tounges<br />
He has come to be one of my<br />
Black queer patron saints<br />
<br />
And my heart believes in free<br />
because it is a dream that was handed down to me<br />
When I die, you cannot bury me<br />
I will leave something behind<br />
It will grow outside of me and inspite of me<br />
The dandelion arises again and again<br />
A soul cannot be enslaved <br />
A radical tradition indeed<br />
From nothing and everything<br />
We continue to witness the resillancy of<br />
Some Black radical dreamer's seed.<br />
<br />
It is in us. <br />
Be thankful for our inheritance. <br />
<3always<br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"><br /></span></span></span>Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-62543472872854031732013-02-12T07:21:00.000-08:002013-02-12T07:21:59.608-08:00Life is Real<h3 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"><b>KAI's SONG(s) OF THE WEEK: </b></span></span></span></h3>
This week's jam is "Life is Real" from Ayo's "debut album <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joyful" title="Joyful">Joyful</a></i>, which was first released in 2006, reached Double-Platinum status in France, Platinum in Germany and Poland, Gold status in Switzerland and Italy and Greece. The album was released in the United States on 20 November 2007 by Interscope Records. Ayo (born as Joy Olasunmibo Ogunmakin on 14 September 1980 in Frechen near Cologne, Germany) is a Nigerian-German singer-songwriter. She uses the Yoruba translation Ayọ or Ayo. of her first name <i>Joy</i>." (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ay%E1%BB%8D">Wiki</a>) (<a href="http://www.metrolyrics.com/life-is-real-lyrics-ayo.html">Lyric</a>)<br />
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<b>Kai's Thoughts:
<span style="font-family: Times;"></span></b><b> </b></h3>
I heard this song this morning and I just had to share it!<br />
<br />
The lyric says it all--> <br />
<br />
"<span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/Lyric"><span class="line line-s" id="line_1">Some people say that/</span>
<span class="line line-s" id="line_2">I'm too open/ </span>
<span class="line line-s hover" id="line_3">they say/ </span>
<span class="line line-s hover" id="line_4">it's not good to let them know everything about me/ </span>
<span class="line line-s hover" id="line_5">and they say one day/ </span>
<span class="line line-s hover" id="line_6">they will use every little thing against me/</span>
<span class="line line-s" id="line_7">But i don't mind maybe they're right/ </span>
<span class="line line-s" id="line_8">that's just how it is and i got nothing to hide./</span>
<span class="line line-s" id="line_9">i live my life the way i want/ </span>
<span class="line line-s" id="line_10">i got nothing to hide/ nothing at all/ </span>
<span class="line line-s" id="line_11">life is not a fairy tale/ </span>
<span class="line line-s" id="line_12">they should know that </span>
<span class="line line-s" id="line_13">Life is real."</span></span><br />
<br />
<span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/Lyric"><span class="line line-s" id="line_13">Whatever energies you release into the universe that is what you will get back. When you give love, when you give gratitude, when you give forgiveness, when you give you will surely receive. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/Lyric"><span class="line line-s" id="line_13">Of course there will be haters. Those who don't like you simply because your ability to be vulnerable may be triggering. A lot of us want to be free, but we aren't and when we witness someone who is approaching freedom or basking in it, instead of being able to value that light we take it as a reminder of what we are not.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/Lyric"><span class="line line-s" id="line_13">We all have a story. We are all valuable. Do you see the value in your own life, your own gifts?</span></span><br />
<br />
<span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/Lyric"><span class="line line-s" id="line_13">Once you start to make that journey towards self love, it becomes easier to walk authentically, without fear or doubt. You came here for a reason and there is no one else who can do what you do. The message that you have is unique and divine, you must take the time to discover what that is because this world needs you. </span><span class="line line-s" id="line_13"></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_13"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/Lyric"><span class="line line-s" id="line_13">I am learning now how to truly love and LIKE myself and it is a long journey but one that has completely changed my interaction with life. When you start to value yourself, you begin to feel more solidly anchored. You become honest, honest about what hurts, about what feels really good, about the things that are difficult, and the things that bring you the most joy and when you gain that kind of clarity you are walking in your truth. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/Lyric"><span class="line line-s" id="line_13">The thing about walking in your truth is that it isn't always easy because there will be those who try to stop you, there will even be those who you thought were friends who walk away, but there will also be those who love you more, those who embrace you more fiercely--that's your team. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/Lyric"><span class="line line-s" id="line_13">Let your light shine. Respect and honor your life, your words, your struggles, your total being-->it all deserves love. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/Lyric"><span class="line line-s" id="line_13">Don't forget to nourish the freedom dreaming poem that you are. </span><span class="line line-s" id="line_13"><br /></span></span><br />
<br />
<span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/Lyric"><span class="line line-s" id="line_13"> </span></span>Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-34500416269103620982013-01-15T13:43:00.000-08:002013-01-15T13:43:29.796-08:00Kinfolk--(Re)Membering Uncle Junior<style>
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<span style="font-family: Times;"><b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK:</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times;">"Kin Folk" is a track from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthony_David_%28singer%29">Anthony David's</a> 2006 record, <a href="http://www.allmusic.com/album/the-red-clay-chronicles-mw0000735444">Red Clay Chronicles</a>. Take a second and give gratitude for the family you have been given and/or chosen. </span><br />
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<h3>
<b>Kai's Thoughts: </b></h3>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">My Uncle, James Carraway Jr. passed away early Monday morning (yesterday). We knew he was sick, but we didn't know how sick. I am happy to have had the opportunity to visit him while I was home in the East Bay over the winter holiday. I visited him with three of my aunts and as soon as we walked in the room we started singing, trying to find our parts, the right key... We were all happy and together. If you don't know anything else about you, you have to know how much I love my family and how important family is to me. I am blessed to have such a close family that is held together by God's greatest gift, love. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">My grandparents had 8 children together. They moved to Oakland California from Paris, Texas way back in the day and raised an AMAZING tribe, "The Carraways." The stories I have heard over the years about their upbringing always make me smile. These stories have come to feel like stories of Superheroes--Black Superheroes and that's where I come from. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">I am so saddened by the loss of one of my Superheros today, but I know Uncle Junior will live on in our hearts and in our stories. I offer this short piece from some of the stories I have heard over the years and I reprint it today in honor of my uncle, Junior. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">****</span> </div>
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As
a child I remember sitting around dining room tables, sometimes on couches and
floors, cuddle up with cousins, siblings, aunts, and my mom. We’d all drink
strong coffee with creamer, but my mom and Uncle Steve always liked it black.
Sometimes we’d play spades, dominos, taboo, or another game someone had picked
up along the way and brought back home to share. There would always come a
point late in the night, eyes heavy, red and tired, but not yet ready to say
good night. Someone would recall that one time when…</div>
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That
one time when cousin J found and brought the man who robbed G (his mother, my
aunt) back to the house all tied up in the back of a car…J was proud of what he
had done, but G was afraid and told her son to untie that man and let him go.
We all laughed.</div>
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<br /></div>
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That
one time my mom recalls taking care of her little sister, L and giving her a
spanking. L put some kind of curse (she had gotten into witchcraft) on my
mom and her chair broke. My mom was afraid and L got another spanking. L
was thought to be strange and a little bit crazy for her interest in witchcraft
in such a Christian and God fearing home.</div>
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I
listen to these stories and I try to remember them all. I like how I can hear
the story about my mom getting into a fight in kindergarten. She was trying to
help her older brother JR. fight “these white boys”. The boys were all in
middle school. JR gave my mom his belt and she was holding her own until
someone knocked off her glasses or maybe she just got pushed down. She was
kicked repeatedly in her eyes and when JR. saw that, my mom said he just went
off. And at some point the fight ended. When they got ready to walk back home
my mom couldn’t see a thing. She was blind. I can’t remember how long she says
it lasted, but it was more than a day. I remember her saying that she had to
stay and fight with and for her brother because granddaddy would <i><span style="font-family: Times;">really</span></i> give you a spanking if ever you
left any of your family to fight alone.</div>
<div style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: justify;">
No
matter what, family comes first and we fight for and sometimes with one
another. And sometimes we end up being blind. And those pains and scars
translated years down become stories retold that inspire me to fight. And when
I fight I know I have the strength of the little girl that was my mom. Taking
comfort in the fact that even though she went blind for a moment she still had
her brother with her to carry her home.</div>
<div style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: justify;">
Every
time I hear one of these stories I feel like I’m being carried home—home to a
place that I have never actually touched nor smelled nor heard. But I can still
feel it and I know it—someplace that always escapes me yet remains centrally
grounded within me.</div>
<div style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: justify;">
Some
things are just in my blood--some pains and some joys they travel in and
through me. Some memories of sadness and hope I feel but I can’t always really
touch them. You know the feeling when you just can’t quite put your finger on a
thing. Some memories so deep have been transported from generations and people
and places I have never seen with my own eyes— though I sometimes get glimpses
in my dreams.</div>
<div style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I
wonder if one day I’ll meet those folk whose bloodlines flow and grow in me
biologically and spiritually. I wonder if I’ll recognize them and if they’ll
recognize me. Is that what flying home yields? I imagine a return to the future
whereby I become whole because we all recognize and see each other here and
now—beautifully (be)coming together.</div>
<br />
#Givemorelove </div>
Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-50969680976429076602012-12-25T07:20:00.001-08:002012-12-25T07:20:54.291-08:00Give Love on Christmas Day<span style="font-family: Times;"><b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK:</b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"><b>
</b></span><br />
<div class="mw-content-ltr" dir="ltr" id="mw-content-text" lang="en">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Give_Love_on_Christmas_Day" target="_blank">'<b>Give Love on Christmas Day</b>' </a>is a Christmas song first recorded by Motown Records' family quintet The Jackson 5." The version I share with you today is cover by one of the greatest soul singers of our day, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ledisi">Ledisi.</a> This version can be found on her 2008 Christmas album,"<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/It%27s_Christmas_%28Ledisi_album%29">It's Christmas</a>." (<a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/ledisi/giveloveonchristmasday.html">lyrics</a>)</div>
<table class="toc" id="toc"><tbody>
<tr><td><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<h3>
<b>Kai's Thoughts: </b></h3>
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I am grateful for love today and everyday. <br />
<br />
I am grateful for smiles from strangers. <br />
<br />
I’m grateful for the sun, the moon, and the stars. <br />
<br />
I’m grateful for the rain. <br />
<br />
I’m grateful for the quiet that comes when the rain ceases. <br />
<br />
I am grateful for old ladies who smell like sweet potato pie and peppermint
sticks. <br />
<br />
I am grateful for the brother who was out on Lakeshore yesterday with his amp,
blessing the world with his soulful baritone. <br />
<br />
I am grateful for my friend, my elder, Terry De Grace who invited me and my
mother to her Christmas Eve church services yesterday at the Plymouth UCC
Chruch of Jazz and Justice. <br />
<br />
I am grateful for the message of hope and faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I am grateful that even in the face of a reality that tells us we shouldn’t be
here, some of us still believe and struggle for life and joy and FREEDOM.<br />
<br />
I am grateful for those of us who believe that what is, does not determine what
will/can be. <br />
<br />
I am grateful for the solstice ritual that Fly and Jay invited me to.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I am grateful for the end of this time according to the Mayan calendar. <br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am pre-grateful for the end of Capitalist time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am grateful for the Time of Revolutionary Love that
continually disrupts Capitalist time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am grateful for YOU.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
What are you grateful for today? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b>A Love Poem for Love</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
It is the end of time as we have known it</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
But we are still
alive And love still persist</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
With a brush from the lips Of my lover, she slips</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Forward, out of space And I don’t catch her ‘Cause she fly</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
And the sun burns
for her</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Like my soul, it yearns for her </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Transformative elsewheres</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
And I
think I hear myself there</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
No there… there…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
And beyond…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
It is always the
words unspoken </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
That make you feel </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
As though flying is a possibility<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Alive and Alive </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Jumping into darkeness' light</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
It is as sweet as smoke and soft lips touching</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Calloused hands and ashy legs meet to make beautiful</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
This and these<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Words don’t make much sense here</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
In the silences of full hearts</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Sparked stares reveal<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>something...</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Laughter and smiles make music</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
The kind I like to listen to when I’m all by myself or</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Dancing with you </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Embracing the moment </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
It won’t last<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
But<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>for now</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
It is enough </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
I’ve never been full like this</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
And still these words won’t make much sense here </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
They belong, nowhere<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>here </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yet exist.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Hold on to whatever it is that keeps the sky from falling</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
For it also keeps you and I from drowning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
SENDING MUCH LOVE TO YOU AND YOURS<3<3<3 #givemorelove </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-54198964436989366452012-12-10T06:50:00.003-08:002012-12-10T06:50:38.552-08:00I Just Called to Say I Love You
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times;"><b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK:</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times;">‘“I
Just Called to Say I Love You’ is a song written, produced and performed by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stevie_Wonder">Stevie Wonder</a>. It was one
of Wonder's most commercially successful singles. The song was first featured
in the 1984 comedy The Woman in Red,<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I_Just_Called_to_Say_I_Love_You#cite_note-British_Hit_Singles_.26_Albums-2">
</a>along with two other songs by Wonder, and scored number one on the Billboard
Hot 100 for three weeks from October 13, 1984, and also became Wonder's only
solo UK number-one success, staying at the top for six weeks. It also became his tenth number-one
on the R&B chart, and his fourth number-one on the adult contemporary
chart. In addition, the song won both a Golden Globe and an Academy Award for
Best Original Song. The song also received three
nominations at the 27th Grammy Awards for Best Male Pop Vocal Performance, Song
of the Year and Best Pop Instrumental Performance.” (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I_Just_Called_to_Say_I_Love_You">Wiki</a>) (<a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/steviewonder/ijustcalledtosayiloveyou.html">lyrics</a>)</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/QwOU3bnuU0k?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<h3>
<b>Kai's Thoughts: </b></h3>
<h3>
<b><br /></b></h3>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A phone call can make all the difference. A phone call from a friend, lover, parent, or even a stranger can change the energy of both parties. A phone call can bring about healing.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My Dad calls me every Sunday morning and usually he just wants to let me know that he's around, he's present, he loves me and hasn't forgotten about our date. He never misses a Sunday call and I think this is his way of making up for lost time, time when I would wait and he wouldn't show up. He's here now and I'm grateful for forgiveness which allows me to be open to this relationship. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Last week I had a beautiful conversation with a person that I've never met in real life--only facebook exchanges. This person reached out to me and wanted to talk on the phone. If you know me well, then you know that one of this things I love to do most is talk. When people reach out to me, especially Black queer folk, I do my best to respond because I know how lonely it can feel when you think you're the only one. I also know how affirming it is when you realize you are not the only one. I spoke to this person about the possibility of taking hormones. I asked them if they had enough support. I asked them a lot of questions and I listened. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Love is a listening. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I've been talking to a lot more people on the phone since I've been living alone. I am learning how to reach out on those mornings when sadness seems to get the best of me. I hesitate to talk about it or tell people about it because I fear they might get annoyed or not want to talk to me anymore, but I've been challenging myself to be more vulnerable. It feels scary, but it also feels good because I have some AMAZING people in my life who love, value and care about me and my well-being. Without these people loving me, healing me, giving me the space to not feel just right, I wouldn't be able to have the strength to do the work that I do. We have to care for each other because we all have such important work to do. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Everything is connected. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As I heal myself, I make more space for healing to occur outside/around me. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Reach out to someone today. Remind them how loved they are. Remind them how valuable their life is. These kinds of reminders can never be given too often. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Call someone and just say, "I LOVE YOU!"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm grateful for all of the people who reached out to me this past week and in some way or another tranifested love.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<3<3<3 </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
*Weekly Jam has been modified to (Bi)Weekly so that I have more time for #OperationDissertationStation ;-)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<sup><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span></sup></div>
Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-23496727436281028052012-11-26T11:13:00.002-08:002012-11-26T11:16:10.115-08:00Black Gold/We are Dandelions<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
</h3>
<div class="post-header">
</div>
<b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK:</b><br />
<br />
<b> </b>"Black Gold" (<a href="http://www.metrolyrics.com/black-gold-lyrics-esperanza-spalding.html" target="_blank">lyircs</a>) was released in 2012, a collaboration between <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Esperanza_Spalding" target="_blank">Esperanza Spalding</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Algebra_%28singer%29" target="_blank">Algebra</a><b>.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
There is a video, but I suggest that you just listen to the song first <a href="http://grooveshark.com/s/Black+Gold+with+Algebra+Blessett/4NnBUl?src=5" target="_blank">here</a>, and then watch the video:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Nppb01xhfe0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
<h3>
<b>Kai's Thoughts:
</b>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times;">"You are Black Gold/We are Dandelions"</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">I
remember the first book I learned to read, “Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What do You
See?” I remember this book and learning how to read because it was such a
difficult and frustrating process. My mom tried to assist me, but my
frustration got the best of me and at one moment I picked the book up and threw
it across the room and yelled “I’ll never learn how to read!” From that moment
on my mom took a step back and let me figure out certain things on my own. Even
if I had to struggle she knew that I would eventually get it because I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">always</i> did well in school. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">I
never felt comfortable talking to my mother or anyone else about was how
difficult reading was for me. I couldn’t quite understand it because I knew that
I was smart. So why was it so difficult to pay attention to the words? Why did
some sentences get transposed in my head? I only ever felt shame about this. I
did my best to hide my challenge because I didn’t want anyone to think I was
weak or even worse stupid. How could someone who loved language so much hate
the act of reading? It was/is painful. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">I
have a hard time talking about my learning disability because I, like a lot
folks with challenges, have been taught to feel shame and embarrassment about
my difference. Writing this is my first step in challenging my own internalized
ableism which has prevented me from asking for help when I needed it. Why? Because
I have been afraid that people will tell me I don’t belong here—funny thing is
that I have already been told that many times, but I’m still here. Why? Because
I’m a PhD candidate and someday soon I’ll be a professor and those things have
always been in conflict with learning disability even though I know that isn’t
the truth (Remember Theo from the Cosby Show?).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times;">I
am doing a lot these days to rebuild and heal—part of that work means embracing
and loving all parts of myself, parts that I have kept hidden for fear that
they would make me seem weak. I write this knowing that vulnerability does not
equal weakness—it just seems that we don’t always have a lot of safe space to
be vulnerable without judgment. I am working to create safer spaces for my people—Black,
Queer, poor, disabled—and in order to really do that work I must be honest
about the person I am. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">I
opened this piece with two quotations that have been shared with me over the
past couple of weeks. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times;">You are
Black Gold: </span></i><span style="font-family: Times;">My brother played this
song for me over the weekend (We communicate via music) and I am so grateful to
have really heard this song. The lyric, “</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">There'll be folks hell-bent on putting
you down/ Don't get burned/ Not necessarily everyone will know your worth/
Think of all the strength you have in you/ From the blood you carry within
you.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white; text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Some people
won’t know your worth and your job is not to prove yourself to those people.
Your job is to instead gain strength and courage from the folks who do know how
valuable you are—those people will help you grow. Spend your time on people who
value you, people who love you unconditionally, because you deserve that and
you need that so that you can focus on the work of changing the world that we
live in.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white; text-align: justify;">
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">We are Dandelions:</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"> My dear friend,
Patrisse, has been reminding me of this all week. When I asked her what she
meant she said, “ Dandelions are weeds, but have so much nutrient value. It’s
the flower of the hood. We are all Dandelions. We are seen as weeds, and folks
are determined to pluck us and discard us, but WE are medicine. We are
medicine!”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">We have been sent here to change the world—to
heal it. I believe that. But some people don’t want things to change and they
will fight us. They will tell us that we are wrong. They will tell us that we
are not supposed to be here and there is no room for us. We must continue to
survive to prove these folks wrong. But more importantly, we must continue to
check in with ourselves and remind ourselves/each other that we are here and we
are lovely just as we are (don’t internalize someone else’s hate). We should
not be ashamed or embarrassed because of our differences. Outside forces will
tell us that we need to change, that we need to medicate ourselves so that we
can <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">be happy</i>, but we are medicine!</span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-85123479424375956602012-11-19T07:44:00.001-08:002012-11-19T07:48:16.075-08:00Let the Wind Blow<div class="post-header">
</div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-7760952970413065091" itemprop="description articleBody">
<b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
"Let the Wind Blow" is a track from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fertile_Ground" target="_blank">Fertile Ground's </a>1999 "Spiritual War" album. (<a href="http://www.lyricsgig.com/index.php?page=lyrics&lid=618263" target="_blank">Lyrics</a>)<br />
<br />
Take the time out to listen to this track--it's really great:-)</div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-7760952970413065091" itemprop="description articleBody">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/A3klTuIr6S8?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-7760952970413065091" itemprop="description articleBody">
<h3>
<b> </b></h3>
<h3>
<b>Kai's Thoughts: </b></h3>
<h3>
<b></b></h3>
<h3>
<b></b></h3>
<h3>
<b></b></h3>
<h3>
<b><span style="font-family: Times;"></span></b><b> </b></h3>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"><b>Truth:</b>
This past month has been one of the most difficult for me emotionally,
spiritually, and physically. My relationship with my partner for the past three
years officially ended. I moved to a new place by myself—I have never lived
alone. I got the flu and strep throat which I haven’t had since I was 10. All
of these happenings occurred during one of my busiest traveling schedules--In
the past month I’ve been in WI, MA, NY, and numerous trips to the Bay Area. The
traveling along with the major life changes were exhausting, which is one of
the reasons why I decided to take a break from the Weekly Jam Post for almost a
month—But I’m Back! </span></div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-7760952970413065091" itemprop="description articleBody">
<span style="font-family: Times;"> </span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times;"><b>Truth:</b>
The movement, all of the traveling, the engaging with people in different
spaces has been essential for my healing in this moment. I am a person who
values stability, and while I know that change is inevitable and necessary I
have a tendency to choose stability over change in my personal relations
because of fear—fear that I will fall and not be able to get back up again. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"><b>Truth:</b>
Though this has been one of the most destabilizing moments in my life, it has taught
me some important lessons 1) I’m a lot stronger than I thought I was 2) My
community goes so deep that there is no reason for me to ever feel afraid. I am
always held—we are always held.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"><b>Truth:</b>
Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end, but only if you are
willing to let go (end.), take risks, and fly. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"><b>Truth:</b>
Flying can feel like falling until you recognize that you haven’t hit the
ground yet, and you won’t. You are okay. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"><b>Truth:
</b>In the past month I have experienced so much love—all kinds of love from all
kinds of people and in all different spaces. I appreciate you. I give more love
in return to my elders, more love to California, more love to my people in LA and
in Oakland, more love to my East Coast family, more love to my Brown Boi
family, more love to my Black feminist family—more love... You have all held me
and helped me to recognize this moment not simply as a breaking-down, but
instead it is an opportunity to rebuild—there is so much possibility in the
remake/remix. Magic. Black.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"><b>Truth:</b>
I find myself smiling more than ever—genuine big cheesy smiles. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"><b>Truth:
</b>We are Dandelions (Thank you, Trisse<3). </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"><b>Truth:</b>
The wind blows, but you remain—strong, more beautiful. Black—resiliency. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"><b>Truth:</b>
It’s time for revival. </span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times;">A Litany for Revival<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6392394729717665744#_ftn1" name="_ftnref" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;">[1]</span></span></a></span></b><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: Times;">Litany:</span></b><span class="ssens"> a prayer consisting of a
series of invocations and supplications</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Revival:</span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">an act or instance of </span><span style="font-family: Times;"><a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/reviving"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">reviving</span></a></span><span style="font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">: the state of being </span><span style="font-family: Times;"><a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/revived"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">revived</span></a></span><span style="font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">: renewed attention to or
interest in something: a new presentation or publication of something old</span><b><span style="font-family: Times;">:</span></b><span class="ssens"> restoration of
force, validity, or effect. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span class="ssens"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Poetry is Not a Luxury.” Audre Lorde Reminds us.
“There are no new ideas. Only New ways of making them felt.”</span></span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I find you, Black queer histories, Black queer geographies, mapping the
terrain of the unnamed and the unknown, but we know you, we feel you. I find
you in folders and boxes stored away. In cold dark rooms, on shelves, you, like
boiling water somehow keep your fire while overflowing, and I receive the
overflow. I am ready now. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Were you waiting for me? Because I have been dreaming of you and your stories.
Were you dreaming about me and my friends back then? Were you thinking of us
when you asked for Black and Gay, race, class, gender and sexuality?
Intersectionality—Intergenerationally. see your souls reached out to me and I
have been touched. Anointed because you were unafraid to tell it like it is.
Your visions have shaped future generations of Black queer freedom dreamers,
Black weirdos, Black nerds who just want to be—we must get free. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Were you thinking of yourselves and just how badd you
really were and still are? They told me you didn’t exist like this. But I have
seen you now. And I come to you with questions. How did we get here? I know I
can’t go back, but perhaps you can give me some ideas as to how to move
forward. I come to you humbly and with gratitude. I thank you for the doing and
the writing. I thank you for documenting your lives as you lived and loved so
fiercely. And I know the record is incomplete. I know there are things I will
never truly come to understand. But please teach me what I need to know now—for
this moment and for these people, my people, you have certainly help to make
possible our radical imaginations—yes a new world is not only possible, it is
desirable. We want it. We are hungry for revival and restoration. I talk to you
in the past and bring you to the future and back again—see there is no death
for us Black queers only resurrection, reincarnation Because I will never quit
you and I know that you will never leave me. Past, present, and future all
collide to make a beautiful Black feminist elsewhere. And we don’t have time,
only love, revolutionary in its call—it comes to heal us as it came to heal
you. Your arms, poetry, music, embrace us and we love back, touch back. And
they said we didn’t, they say we couldn’t exist—and maybe they can’t see, but I
know they feel us now, Audre<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Lorde, Toni Cade Bambara, Sojurner Truth, Gloria Hull, Anne Allen
Shockley, Cheryl Clarke, June Jordan, Pat Parker, Frances Beal, Jewel Gomez, Angela
Davis, Patricia Hill Collins, bell hooks, Ida B. Wells, Flo Kennedy, Alexis
Pauline Gumbs, Julia Wallace, Treva Ellison, Patrisse Marie Cullors-Brignac,
Prentis Hemphill, Jewel Thais-Williams, and YOU, you reading this and helping
to make manifest this freedom dream. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">There are
no new ideas. Only new ways of making them felt.</span></i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"> Reach
out to your ancestors and to the people around you and just watch how they
reach back. We were never meant to survive, but we are here and we will never
die because our lives are not bound by earth’s time, this landscape. No, we
know spaceships that go beyond space. We carry our maps on our backs, in our
blood, with our dreams of freedom we continue to make the world anew. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Welcome to the revival.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div style="mso-element: footnote-list;">
<br clear="all" />
<hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" />
<div id="ftn" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6392394729717665744#_ftnref" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;">[1]</span></span></span></a><span style="font-family: Times;"> These are the comments I offered at the Black Queer
Geographies Roundtable @ the SF State Queer Yo’ Mind Conference 2012. (Alexis
Pauline Gumbs, Julia Roxanne Wallace, and Treva Ellison were also part of this
roundtable).</span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-90566551469307485932012-10-24T08:15:00.005-07:002012-10-24T08:38:40.575-07:00Thank You<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<h3 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"><b>KAI's SONG(s) OF THE WEEK: </b></span></span></span></h3>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> </span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">There are two jams this week</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/_t4-Yh9h8xI/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_t4-Yh9h8xI&fs=1&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_t4-Yh9h8xI&fs=1&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
<h4 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: center;">
"Thank You" is a track from Stay Human, the third studio release by Michael Franti
& Spearhead in 2001(<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Franti" target="_blank">wiki</a>) (<a href="http://www.lyricsmania.com/thank_you_lyrics_michael_franti_and_spearhead.html" target="_blank">lyrics</a>).<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/6Ptrc2cWRxU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
"Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)" is a 1969 hit single recorded
by Sly and the Family Stone, recognized as one of the greatest and most
influential funk songs of all time. (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sly_and_the_Family_Stone" target="_blank">Wiki</a>) (<a href="http://www.lyricsmania.com/thank_you_falettinme_be_mice_elf_agin_lyrics_sly_and_the_family_stone.html" target="_blank">Lyrics</a>)</h4>
</div>
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</h3>
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<h3>
<b>Kai's Thoughts:
<span style="font-family: Times;"></span></b><b> </b></h3>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times;">When
I was in elementary school, my mother would sometimes drop me off to school
early so that she could get to work on time. If my teachers were around they
would let me sit in the classroom and work on the computer. I remember when we
got a computer in our one room library that had access to the world wide web, I’d
spend early mornings there studying the WNBA and ABL (American Basketball
League) websites just dreaming of the day I’d be able to play with the pros. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times;">I
absolutely adored Ms. Felgenhauer, my fourth grade teacher. I remember being
really creative in her class and because I enjoyed it so much it didn’t really
feel like school at all. One morning I was helping her get ready for the week.
We were talking--now I have to tell you that I sometimes didn’t realize my own
age because I often times liked to sit and listen to adults talk and if they
engaged me even better—and she asked me how I thought her class was going. I
responded, “Well, I love your class, but we don’t really learn anything.” She
was so angry and hurt, her response, “You are learning, you just don’t know it.”
I do believe our 4th grade class lacked in rigor (but really what does/should that
mean for a fourth grader). Shouldn’t we be singing and imagining new hybrid
animals like the lizardcat? Shouldn’t we be taking the time to dream and play?
Isn’t that where the revolution is conceived? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times;">I
remember being obsessed with corn snakes and worms. I’d collect worms in shoeboxes
with mud and grass. I collected worms from gutter streams and bring them to
class. I was never told that that wasn’t okay. I wasn’t told that I was weird
or odd. I was curious (okay, maybe a little weird;-). I think back on that moment
now and I see how I was beginning to decipher what education was supposed to
look and feel like formally, while experiencing something different—something more
pleasurable, a place where I could draw things that I had never seen in real
life. Dreaming is work even though many of us dreamers don’t get acknowledged
for the kind work we do. I want to thank Ms. Felgenhauer because I think you
were right—I didn’t know then just how much you were teaching me about teaching
myself and allowing myself to dream and be creative. I want to thank some of
the folks who have been master teachers to me. Of course this list is not
comprehensive, but I want to acknowledge some of those master teachers.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">Mom:
My first teacher. Because you never doubted me, I never doubted me. You always
have my back and push me to keep going even if I’m challenging you. You have
made me stronger. You have made me compassionate. You have made me gentle
because you taught me how to care for you when you needed it. I appreciate you
and you will always forever ever be my number one teacher. (You also made me a
Scrabble master;-)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">Dad:
You taught me blues and basslines. You sang to me in harmony, all three parts
sometimes. You taught me how to walk without needing to know where I’m going.
You helped me to learn the importance of the journey. You modeled for me
openness, a kindness with strangers that I aspire to. You taught me how to go
with the flow. But most you taught me that people can and should change. You
continue to teach me about true forgiveness and deep healing. You’ve taught me
the sacred medicine of laughter and I thank you.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times;">Gwen
(My aunt/preschool teacher): You have taught me love for community. You have
taught me how to be prepared for a fight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You have taught me about loyalty and the importance of family. I Thank
you for all of the work you have done and all the work you continue to do—you
do it with/for love (because we know it’s not for the money) and I appreciate
you. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times;">Ms.
Ella (pre-school teacher): I thank you for those moments when you would come
get me during nap time and ask me if I wanted to do something else. I wasn’t
always sleepy and you allowed me to be awake. Thanks for letting me help you
make snacks with you. I remember those moments as some of the most tender I
have experienced. I thank you for modeling for me kindness and a nurturing
calm. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">Mr.
Flemming (Elementary School teacher): Thank you for showing me that there are
many ways to be a teacher. For you teaching was not about how well one did on
the test, even though I was obsessed with this. You taught me that honesty is
important but sometimes rules are not always to be followed. I thank you for
teaching us about Hatshepsut—you made sure we knew that it was indeed possible
for Black women to rule the world. I thank you. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">Mrs.
Stoermer (Elementary school teacher): I thank you for always pushing us. I thank
you for taking us camping and allowing us to experience the wilderness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thank you for taking an interest in
my educational journey and moving me to the spaces where I got access to the
best. I admire your passion for teaching. I thank you.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">Mr.
Ajamu (Middle school teacher/coach): I thank you for teaching me how to play
basketball. I thank you for always pushing me to take the game seriously. You
have taught me to recognize the poetry in dance (even though I could never
catch the beat myself). You taught me how to be proud and value myself and what
I bring to the table always because you were always so proud and confident. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">Ms.
Vargo (Middle School teacher): I thank you for taking me and my writing
seriously. You were the first person to teach me how to read a text closely.
You taught me about emotional intelligence and empathy. You created a holistic
classroom space where we couldn’t think about the texts we read without
encountering ourselves—our deepest loves, our goals, our fears, and our pain.
Thanks putting Ender’s Game on our reading list. I appreciate your friendship
and mentorship over the years.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">Macedo
(Boarding school advisor): I thank you for your self-awareness. I admire your
will to always do better. I thank you for helping me navigate Dana Hall. I
thank you for coming to visit me at camp that one summer when I didn’t think I
would return. Your encouragement was/is felt and I appreciate you. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">Professor
Hicks: Thank you for pushing me like no other professor or teacher before. You
called me out and asked me to step my game up—no one had ever done that before.
I thank you for teaching me to take myself and my work seriously. I thank you
for teaching me about blackness, space, place, and history. I thank you for
introducing me to Robin D.G. Kelley’s work. You are a master teacher and I am
so grateful to have studied under you.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">Professor
Edwards: You taught me Black Marxism, Stuart Hall, and the meaning of Africana
studies. You taught me how to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">read </i>a
text. I thank you for sharing your brilliance with the world and with me—we
need it. I appreciate you. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">Professor
Keeling: I appreciate the way you travel with music and poetry always in tow.
You have taught me about Black queer futures and women of color feminist
genealogies. You remind us of the histories of the Black radical imagination,
proving that we are never alone. I thank you. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">Professor
Clyde Woods: You taught me how to speak up even if afraid. You taught me
friendship. You gave me mentorship. You were concerned with Black life—that’s
what you loved and that is what you endorsed. I appreciate the hard questions,
the times you would put me on the spot. You showed me how to do this work with
love. I am grateful for all the wisdom you shared while you were here and for
the road maps you left behind so that we might not get lost. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">Professor
Robin D.G. Kelley: Thank you for teaching me about poetry, surrealism, and
Monk. I thank you for your generosity as a scholar and a mentor. You teach me
that freedom dreaming is essential to life. I appreciate you. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">Professor
Alexis Pauline Gumbs: You gave me something to carry in my wallet. You bring
poetry from the future back and forth and all around. You make it clear and
there’s no doubt that when you speak we all listen. You boldly bring us
messages back from our ancestors. I am grateful for your kindness, your
brilliance, your ability to create alternative spaces of knowledge production
where we might pursue our dreams in health and with joy. I thank you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">Treva
Ellison: You are both my friend and my intellectual/creative partner. I
appreciate your encouragement and the time you have taken to create with me. You
show me that there are multiple ways to tell a story and sometimes the best way
isn’t with words and writing—sometimes it is in the chords you play on the
guitar or a hum or perhaps a stencil. I appreciate your wisdom and the poetry
with which you walk. I thank you and I am thankful for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">Patrisse
Cullors-Brignac: You have taught me community. You have taught me about
friendship enduring. You have taught me how to make art out of disaster. You
have taught me how to turn insanity to power. You teach me the importance of
organizing. You teach me forgiveness and compassion. I appreciate you.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">This
list goes on and I am so thankful for all of those master teachers I list
above. Of course there is also: Ruth Wilson Gilmore, Fred Moten, Jordan Camp,
Christina Heatherton, Julia Wallace, Analena Hope, Prentis Hemphill, Cole B.
Cole, Lanita Jacobs, Laura Pulido, Sharon Holland, Rod Ferguson, C. Riley
Snorton, D’Lo, Shana Redmond, Sarah Haley, La Marr Jurelle, Qween Hollins, C.
Jerome Woods, Jewel Thais-Williams, Katie Kent, Maria Elena Cepeda, D.L. Smith, </span><span style="font-family: Times;"><span class="kno-fb-ctx" style="font-size: small;"><span style="left: -5px; position: relative;">Kortney Ryan Ziegler,</span></span>
Jefferey King, Maylei Blackwell, Adaku Utah, Kelly Lewis, Patricia Torres, Jeremie Preston, and
the list goes on (and on and on and on and)… </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times;">I
am more than grateful for all of the master teachers who I have encountered in
life so far. I share the songs above and this poem below—THANK YOU.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: center;">
<br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Recreation</span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-outline-level: 2; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Coming together/ it is easier to work/ after our bodies/ meet/
paper and pen/ neither care nor profit/ whether we write or not/ but as your
body moves/ under my hands/ charged and waiting/ we cut the leash/ you create
me against your thighs/ hilly with images/ moving through our word countries/ my
body/ writes into your flesh/ the poem/ you make of me./ Touching you I catch
midnight/ as moon fires set in my throat / I love you flesh into blossom/ I
made you/ and take you made/ into me. </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">-Audre Lorde</span></i></div>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"><br /></span></span></span>
Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-39900160270675042742012-10-15T09:17:00.002-07:002012-10-15T09:17:52.473-07:00Place to Belong<h3 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"><b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: </b></span></span></span></h3>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> "Place to Belong" is a track from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Dragon" target="_blank">Little Dragon's</a> 2007 self titled album "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Dragon_%28album%29" target="_blank">Little Dragon</a>."(<a href="http://http//www.metrolyrics.com/place-to-belong-lyrics-little-dragon.html" target="_blank">Lyrics</a>)</span></span></span></h5>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/lG92Dgo68Pk?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<h3>
<b> </b></h3>
<h3>
<b>Kai's Thoughts:
<span style="font-family: Times;"></span></b><b> </b></h3>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></div>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">
I run (in)to the dark before the sun rises </span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> I run into the moon’s
mo(u)rning</span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> I Want to hang on I long to be held in the space where
darkness meets light</span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> I convene with God</span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> I ask for clarity</span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">I need to
get my soul-spirit-body right So I am unafraid of this night light</span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> This mo(u)rning Let it come</span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> I watch you go I need to grow and I need
to know How to mother myself</span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> How to brother myself So I run for my
health I run (in)to myself fully </span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">The only place where I can shed the
tears They fall easy as I push through</span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> With sweat they fall, bathing
the concrete underneath my feet</span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> And I keep running (in)to the
mo(u)rning</span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">I meet myself in all the places I reside in this body</span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> Fully
present to all that is here now</span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> My body is filled with knowledge</span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> I am
ready to discover</span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> Home in these arms of mine for they are indeed yearning</span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"><br /> I remind myself that everything I need </span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">I have I (re)member me</span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> in pieces and whole I (re)member me </span></span></span></h5>
<h5 class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> </span></span></span></h5>
Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-939736054744123972012-10-02T07:04:00.001-07:002012-10-02T07:08:12.296-07:00This Woman's Work<b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: </b><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"In 1997, American <span style="color: black;">R&B musician <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maxwell_%28musician%29" target="_blank">Maxwell</a> covered '</span><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;">This Woman's Work'</span> for the release of his album MTV Unplugged. The artist later re-recorded the song in studio for his album Now (2001). This version of the song was released as the album's second single in 2001 and peaked in the US Billboard charts at #58 (Billboard Hot 100)[6] and #16 (Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs). This version also appeared in the movie Love & Basketball. 'This Woman's Work' was performed on season 9 of American Idol by Michael Lynche. Kate Bush's ‘This Woman’s Work’ Got Deandre Brackensick into the TOP 24: on American Idol Final Judgement 2012." (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/This_Woman%27s_Work#Maxwell.27s_cover_versions">Wiki</a>) (<a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/maxwell/thiswomanswork.html">Lyrics</a>)</span><b></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<h3>
<b>Kai's Thoughts: </b></h3>
So I'm trying something a little different this week. Let me know what you think...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***** </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
He walked into his home office
and slumped down in his large brown lazy boy. He could no longer stand the
weight of his own body or perhaps it was the weight of his own mind--it was
always in/on his mind. He fought against the feeling daily, not knowing who to
turn to. Who could really help him carry such weight? God was great—his mother
had introduced him to God long ago, but he longed for the arms of a woman, his
mother, a lover, a friend, someone who might help carry the weight, but for now
all he had was this chair. It was sturdy and soft. He had imagined fading into
it completely. He did want to disappear.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
He wanted a break, but time would
never stop for him—he was always trying to catch up. He never felt good enough
and knew that was always his motivator—he wanted to prove he could win despite
the voices in his heart that told him he was destined to fail. These inner
voices were his own of course matched by those voices of everyday haters who liked
to remind him of his imperfection. But this man was loved by most—there were so
many who supported him, who told him of his brilliance and beauty, but he never
said it to himself. He never felt it for himself—love. He could only feel the
ugly he had experienced in his short life thus far, he was only 23-years-old.
Everything that he did, he did to survive against the odds. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
He remembers being in his mother’s
womb. She didn’t know what was happening in her womb exactly—she became ill. According
to medical specialist his mother had borne her last child 15 years prior and
she was to bear no more. But he wanted to be born and he wanted her to be his
mother and she wanted him to be her baby. It was a struggle for them both. Once
the mother realized she was pregnant and not dying of some rare dis-ease, she
felt joy. God had given her a miracle child, but holding this child made her so
sick. Yes, he was too long for her, so by the sixth month she could no longer
walk with ease, without pain, but she carried him still. Inside her womb a war
was occurring. What his mother never knew was that there were two babies in her
womb, two babies that wanted to be born. He remembers this. He remembers
sharing the space, but not wanting to share. He remembers kicking and punching
his sibling. He remembers hating this other child. He didn’t know that all of
his rage was not only felt by his sibling, but also his mother who had to carry
them both. He regrets that now. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
He wishes that his sibling had
fought back harder. He wishes his sibling had lived. Now he finds himself alone
in a room and he wishes he could cry out to his sibling. He wishes his sibling
would cry out to him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
He’s the only one who remembers
the other child though his mother also carries the scars from his rage in the
womb. He was born fighting even when fighting wasn’t necessary, it was the only
way he knew how move. He collected guilt like debt, heavy—but for him victory
had always mattered most. Lately victory was starting to feel oppositional to
life. In the eyes of many he was a winner, but he despised himself. He hated to
be alone with himself because he could no longer charm himself. He removed the
mask and in the mirror he saw himself a monster.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
In that chair, he traveled back
to his mother’s womb, back to when there were two inside her. He took note of
the space inside, it was much larger than he remembered and he felt afraid. The
sibling he thought he’d murdered was there with him, facing him. He reached out
to touch the other body, but his sibling was afraid, remembering what had
happened before. He realized that he had no right to reach out and touch with
out asking permission first. He became aware of his sense of entitlement over
this other body and to his mother’s womb. He stared and motioned to his
sibling. He moved his body as best he could in the form of what he imagined
peace and apology might look like. The sibling lifted his head and slowly moved
closer. The sibling put his hand on his brother’s face and held it there. The force,
the power that emanated between them, shocked and soothed the brother. He
closed his eyes and felt deeply. He could no longer hold all he had been
holding and his sibling knew it too. When he opened his eyes, he was alone in
the womb again. He searched for the sibling—he didn’t want to lose them again.
Afraid that he had once again hurt his sibling, he began to weep. He cried and
cried and cried some more. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
He reached out to the edges of
the womb space and saw something he hadn’t seen before. In his mothers womb
there was a mirror and his reflection became apparent. He saw himself and he
saw his sibling—they had been merged. He had been looking for himself but he
thought he was looking for another. He couldn’t understand how he managed long
ago to destroy a sibling and how he was that sibling. Jarred by the notion, he
wept more. He could no longer carry the weight, so he cried in the womb of his
mother. He cried until his feelings calmed. He looked around the womb and said
a prayer. He gave thanks to his mother for holding him despite the pain he
inflicted upon her body. He was grateful for her love. She had to bear all of
his rage, all of his confusion, all of his pain, all of his dreams and
nightmares while also carrying her own. She held all of that inside for him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
As he came back to himself in his
office, in that chair, he prayed a prayer for his mother, for himself and for
the universe. He had been born again and was grateful for the rebirth. </div>
Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-84688336883647996372012-09-24T09:58:00.000-07:002012-09-24T09:58:12.201-07:00Love is You<b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK:</b><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Chrisette Michele Payne (born December 8, 1982), known professionally as Chrisette Michele, is an American <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Contemporary_R%26B" title="Contemporary R&B">R&B</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soul_music" title="Soul music">soul</a> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Singer-songwriter" title="Singer-songwriter">singer-songwriter</a>. She is signed to the <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Island_Def_Jam_Music_Group" title="Island Def Jam Music Group">Island Def Jam Music Group</a><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-1"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chrisette_Michele#cite_note-1"><span>[</span>2<span>]</span></a></sup> and won a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grammy_Award_for_Best_Urban/Alternative_Performance" title="Grammy Award for Best Urban/Alternative Performance">Grammy Award for Best Urban/Alternative Performance</a> in 2009 for her song '<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Be_OK_%28Chrisette_Michele_song%29" title="Be OK (Chrisette Michele song)">Be OK</a>'.<b> </b><span class="mw-headline" id="I_Am_.282007.29"><i> </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span class="mw-headline" id="I_Am_.282007.29"><i>I Am</i> (2007)</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Michele's debut album, <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I_Am_%28Chrisette_Michele_album%29" title="I Am (Chrisette Michele album)">I Am</a></i>, was released on June 18, 2007. The song 'Your Joy' was released on <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ITunes_Store" title="ITunes Store">iTunes</a> as a free single of the week. The album spawned four singles: 'If I Have My Way', '<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Best_of_Me_%28Chrisette_Michele_song%29" title="Best of Me (Chrisette Michele song)">Best of Me</a>', '<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Be_OK_%28Chrisette_Michele_song%29" title="Be OK (Chrisette Michele song)">Be OK</a>', and 'Love Is You'. The album's lead single 'If I Have My Way' charted at number four on US <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Billboard_%28magazine%29" title="Billboard (magazine)">Billboard</a></i><span style="padding-left: 0.1em;">'</span>s Hot Adult R&B Airplay and number twenty-four on the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hot_R%26B/Hip-Hop_Songs" title="Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs">Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs</a>. 'Best of Me' charted on the <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hot_Adult_Contemporary_Tracks" title="Hot Adult Contemporary Tracks">Hot Adult Contemporary Tracks</a>
at number twenty-one. In December 2007, 'Be OK' was released as the
third single, charting at number sixty-four on the Hot R&B/Hip-Hop
Songs and number twenty-one on the Hot Adult R&B Airplay. In 2008, 'Love Is You' was released as the album's fourth and final single; it
reached number ninety on the Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs and number twenty
on the Hot Adult R&B Airplay."(<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chrisette_Michele" target="_blank">Wiki</a>) <a href="http://www.elyrics.net/read/c/chrisette-michele-lyrics/love-is-you-lyrics.html" target="_blank">(Lyrics)</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<h3>
<b>Kai's Thoughts:
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</b></h3>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Making love takes time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Touch me. Touch
yourself(soul)search. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Meet me in the stars.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Time. I don’t have enough of it,
and I’m trying to find the right tools to make it. Time is something that we
actually have control of to a certain extent. Though we are all living under a
capitalist system which uses time to punish and control how and when our bodies
can move, yet some of us manage to escape time. Some of us have managed to find a freedom
groove, and as our feet tip and toe in and out of time, we become the
sustaining reminders that something else is possible. Love. Love is a radical
act especially when you’ve been hurt. To love is to allow your heart to be
moved. What kind of lover are you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I have always been a romantic. I
believe that long walks under the stars with a loved one can save your life and
theirs. I believe that a mixtape has the potential to send messages deeply from
my heart space; it can create a sacred space of sonic bonds. Can you feel the
beat? These freedom chords mark the distance and closeness between you, the
universe and me. Can you hear that? Does the hearing make you feel? What makes
you believe (again)? I believe in magic and poetry. I believe that dancing and
laughter are freedom portals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
And what of heartbreak and loss?
It comes and it goes, but at the end of the day love will remain intact, if you
allow it. Can you forgive the ones who have hurt you? Can you forgive yourself
for the ones you’ve hurt? Forgiveness is essential to creating a healthy heart
space. How do you forgive?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Here are some of the types of
love according to me;-) What others can you think of?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Self-Love: This is something I am
cultivating daily because I don’t believe you can really love another until you
enter the process of (re)loving yourself. Your love is amazing, so why not share it
with you? By loving myself consciously, I teach myself(worth). As a queer people
of color, this can be an especially hard task because for many of us we have
always been castigated. Often times we are placed in the weirdo section. We
become the easily disposable bodies of the state. We are the damned with
the hard lessons to teach. Listen. We are the geniuses unafraid to step out of line
and ask for something new. How do you practice loving yourself? How do you take
the time to love and heal yourself?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Sisterly/Brotherly/Queerly Love:
I love looking into his eyes and watching him smile, because he is gorgeous.
Because he is so sweet. Because he is brilliant and dreams in the daylight.
Because he is small and strong. Because he listens. Because he makes time to
sip coffee and eat stir-fry with me in the afternoon. Because he is unafraid to
risk vulnerability. He is unafraid to reveal himself. And I see a reflection. I
love this boi, he is a friend of mine. You ever met a kindred spirit? Did it
feel like going home?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Hot-sexy love: I can’t really
look into your eyes for too long for fear of falling too hard and too soon. But
I always like meeting you because you remind me that my heart still works and my
capacity for loving is still in tact. But for this love, move slow. Move slow
because what’s the rush? Take your time and let the beat build. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
You can feel all these loves at
once in/for yourself and with others;-)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
I dedicate this Jam to Oakland, September 2012<3<br /><div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-69304966708448190872012-09-18T09:06:00.003-07:002012-09-18T09:06:36.007-07:00Me and the Devil<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: </b>"Gil Scott-Heron released his new album <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I%27m_New_Here" title="I'm New Here">I'm New Here</a></i> on independent label <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/XL_Recordings" title="XL Recordings">XL Recordings</a> on February 9, 2010. Produced by XL label owner Richard Russell, <i>I'm New Here</i>
is Scott-Heron's first studio album in sixteen years. The pair started
recording the album in 2007, with the majority of the record being
recorded over the last twelve months with engineer Lawson White at
Clinton Studios in New York. Some have called the record “reverent” and
“intimate” due to Scott-Heron’s half-sung, half-talked delivery of his
poetry. “I’m New Here” is 28 minutes long with 15 tracks. However,
casual asides and observations collected during recording sessions are
also included as interludes.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-newyorker_10-5"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gil_Scott-Heron#cite_note-newyorker-10"><span>[</span>10<span>]</span></a></sup> The album attracted substantial critical acclaim with <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Guardian" title="The Guardian">The Guardian</a></i> newspaper's Jude Rogers declaring it one of the next decade's best records.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-33"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gil_Scott-Heron#cite_note-33"><span>[</span>33<span>]</span></a></sup></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The first single from the album was "Me And The Devil", which was released on February 22, 2010. It was debuted by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BBC_Radio_1" title="BBC Radio 1">BBC Radio 1</a>'s <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zane_Lowe" title="Zane Lowe">Zane Lowe</a> as his "Hottest Record In The World", along with other specialist DJs such as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gilles_Peterson" title="Gilles Peterson">Gilles Peterson</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Benji_B" title="Benji B">Benji B</a>. The album's remix, <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/We%27re_New_Here" title="We're New Here">We're New Here</a></i>, was released in 2011, featuring reworking by English music producer <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jamie_xx" title="Jamie xx">Jamie xx</a> of material from the original album.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-34"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gil_Scott-Heron#cite_note-34"><span>[</span>34<span>]</span></a></sup> It was also very well received by music critics<sup>."</sup>(<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gil_Scott-Heron" target="_blank">Wiki</a>) (<a href="http://www.lyricsreg.com/lyrics/gil+scott-heron/ME+AND+THE+DEVIL/" target="_blank">Lyrics</a>)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<h3>
<b>Kai's Thoughts:
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Drive slow, Homie,</i> those are the words I whisper to myself while
driving these days, especially if it’s late at night because I hate getting
pulled over. I have completely modified my driving in the last six months. I
used to speed. I used to drive in the carpool lane alone and I was quick to
blow my horn at those cars that irked me with their timidness, but now <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I drive slow, Homie</i>. Still I seem to get
pulled over more and more. I was given a ticket a couple of weeks ago for
making a right turn on a green light while the walk sign was up (but there
weren’t any people crossing). The cop asked me, “What if someone had run out
into the street?” What if… I asked him for a warning and he said “Sorry, I
didn’t pull you over to give you a warning, but you should just take it to
court and contest it.” Thanks. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I headed up to the Bay Area to
reconnect with my hometown, a place I haven’t lived since I was 15. Things have
really changed and stayed the same. I see the new uptown is booming while East
Oakland, where I come from and where my mother still lives… well, I see
struggle and sorrow in the eyes of my people there. I see crack and other
substances still taking their toll. I see babies walking the stroll and police
watching (like me, but not…). What is their job here? To keep us in our
place...And if you forget…they will help you find your way <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">home</i>…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Sirens flash and I’m heading back
to Alameda (I’m staying with my cousin in Alameda while I’m here). I pull over.
Confused because I know that I wasn’t going 1 mile over the 25mph speed limit
because the last time I was in Alameda I got a speeding ticket for going 37mph (I
feel that if I’m going to be cited for speeding then damn let me really be
speeding…) I pull over. A bright light flashes. Then the same bright remains, lighting
up my car from behind. I feel the light behind my head, cold and as dark as it
is bright. Blinding my eyes and I am afraid. For ten minutes I sit with this
light on me, wondering what next. I dare not open the door and ask. Should I
pull out my registration from the glove box? No, no sudden movements. They
might think you’re pulling out a weapon. My heart is racing because I know that
I have followed all the traffic laws yet and still here I am again under the
gaze of some white male officer who shines his unwanted light on me. He finally
comes over and I realize why I got pulled over and the person tailgating behind
me didn’t… “Where are you going? Where are you coming from? What are you doing
here in Alameda? What’s the address of your cousin’s place?” I didn’t know the
exact address so I gave some cross streets and then he asked me more about the
area. Eventually he told me that I had a headlight out and that’s why he pulled
me over, but really it is clear that I was simply out of place. My Black body
in my black Acura with a spoiler was out of place and he needed to remind me
(One of my besties tells me I should get a bike rack to make my car less Black.
I was thinking to get an <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I <3 Police
sticker</i>;-). </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“So if you see the vulture coming/ flying circles in your
mind/ remember their is no escaping/ for he will follow close behind./ only
promise me a battle/ a battle/ for your soul and mind/ and mine/ and mine”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
What is freedom? The ability to move if and when you want
to.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
What is home? A space that holds all of who you are without
question. I’m discovering home in Oakland. Spending time and sharing space with
family and friends. Folks that I only knew via Facebook have shown up in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">real life. </i>And I am grateful because I
needed to be reminded that I am always held and always loved wherever I go. I
find home when I find my people. It’s simple—like a hug gentle and firm all at
once. It’s a smile. It’s a song shared that moves in the space between you and
me, filling in the gaps. It’s recognition of the impossible existing right in
front of your eyes—the person who got free and still struggles to get free
everyday. I’m thankful for you and your courage and your will to live and
create a beautiful life. My friends, my people, my loved ones from LA to the
Bay and all over—I appreciate you. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Home is what you make</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Love, make peace
love, make me free</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
We together, here<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6392394729717665744#_ftn1" name="_ftnref" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;">[1]</span></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-UGTu8EEPzbzhL2iC0i2E-hjVSAmCRVBvl5C_Vbz9RVrH1BTczPQIhdBSsdHyfyajp48O_vSVv8h7QaswmcIWQJTLhznkx_DoYOPkBLRlvw3ELd9XcCaylVCUG9E58TDsTRmLHgMkMN0j/s1600/elvira.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-UGTu8EEPzbzhL2iC0i2E-hjVSAmCRVBvl5C_Vbz9RVrH1BTczPQIhdBSsdHyfyajp48O_vSVv8h7QaswmcIWQJTLhznkx_DoYOPkBLRlvw3ELd9XcCaylVCUG9E58TDsTRmLHgMkMN0j/s400/elvira.jpeg" width="269" /></a></div>
<h4 class="MsoNormal">
<b>And if you can, don’t forget to get out and support Elvira TODAY(RIGHT NOW!)
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/notes/erika-vivianna-c%C3%A9spedes/please-help-show-elvira-support-on-sept-18th-9am-in-sf-say-no-to-racial-profilin/10151145754352435" target="_blank">For more info click here.</a>: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></b></h4>
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6392394729717665744#_ftnref" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;">[1]</span></span></a> Hear?</div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-Metacritic_35-0"></sup></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-Metacritic_35-0"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gil_Scott-Heron#cite_note-Metacritic-35"><span></span><span></span></a></sup></div>
Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-18059011912679596212012-09-10T08:20:00.001-07:002012-09-10T08:20:48.158-07:00This Bitter Earth<b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: </b>"'This Bitter Earth' is a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1960_in_music" title="1960 in music">1960 song</a> made famous by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rhythm_and_blues" title="Rhythm and blues">rhythm and blues</a> singer <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dinah_Washington" title="Dinah Washington">Dinah Washington</a>.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-washington_0-0"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/This_Bitter_Earth#cite_note-washington-0"><span>[</span>1<span>]</span></a></sup> Written and produced by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clyde_Otis" title="Clyde Otis">Clyde Otis</a>,<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-1"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/This_Bitter_Earth#cite_note-1"><span>[</span>2<span>]</span></a></sup><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-2"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/This_Bitter_Earth#cite_note-2"><span>[</span>3<span>]</span></a></sup> it topped the <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R%26B_number-one_hits_of_1960_%28USA%29" title="R&B number-one hits of 1960 (USA)">U.S. R&B charts</a> for the week of 25 July 1960 and also reached #24 on the U.S. pop charts.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-goldberg_3-0"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/This_Bitter_Earth#cite_note-goldberg-3"><span>[</span>4<span>]</span></a></sup> The song is a key piece in the 1977 film <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Killer_of_Sheep" title="Killer of Sheep">Killer of Sheep</a></i> by director <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Burnett_%28director%29" title="Charles Burnett (director)">Charles Burnett</a>." <sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-LATimes_4-0"><span></span></sup><b><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-LATimes_4-0"><span></span></sup></b>(<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/This_Bitter_Earth">Wiki</a>) (<a href="http://www.top40db.net/lyrics/?SongID=60227">Lyrics</a>)<b><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-LATimes_4-0"><span></span></sup></b><br />
<b><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-LATimes_4-0"><span><br /></span></sup></b>
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<h3>
<b>Kai's Thoughts:
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</b></h3>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Have you seen me?</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The splinter in my left hand, crooked
fingers, scarred hands and jagged nails.</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Three small moles on the left thumb and a
burn below the right wrist-</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Aged lines, marks of growth climb up my legs
onto my back</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Chicken-pox are gone, but left me all
spotted.</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Have you seen me?</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The scars, the marks-</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Do you think I’m beautiful all scarred and
marked?</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Outsides and insides- every outside mark has
a name, and inside place.</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yes, I was sad there, clumsy there, lonely
there</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And I found freedom there</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Have you seen me?</span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: center; text-autospace: none;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Did you leave any marks, any scars?</span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Inside or out?</span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Is your name here?</span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Have you seen me?</span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: center; text-autospace: none;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Did you make me more beautiful all scarred and
marked?</span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Yes, I am beautiful all scarred and marked. We are all made up of joy and pain. I have been feeling some of earth's bitterness recently, but I don't believe I'll remain in that place. I allow myself space for sadness, anger, and disappointment. I am learning to be and sit with loss instead of immediately trying to get rid of the feelings. Sometimes we move on too quickly--I know that has been my tendency. When I'm hurt I long to move on to the next stage as soon as possible which is always something great. But there is something to be said for being conscious of the scars you have accumulated--in order to do this you might have to be uncomfortable for a little while. This is the place where you learn about yourself--growing pains are real. I have a hard time being alone because I have abandonment issues, but I am learning to be alone and to enjoy myself. I'm teaching myself to appreciate my own company because I don't think I have valued myself, my own awesomeness as much as I should. A lot of the scars I have are self-inflicted, self-doubt, my own voice telling me that I am not good enough. I'm taking the time now to re-meet myself and appreciate the person that I am and the person that I am becoming. This has been a year of transition and I welcome the journey to becoming a better me. It's a dialectical struggle;-) </span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"> </span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"> </span></i></div>
Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-22205982180791498812012-09-04T08:27:00.001-07:002012-09-04T08:27:34.421-07:00The Best is Yet to Come <div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: </b>"'The Best is Yet to Come'" is a 1959 song composed by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cy_Coleman" title="Cy Coleman">Cy Coleman</a>, with lyrics by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carolyn_Leigh" title="Carolyn Leigh">Carolyn Leigh</a>. It is associated with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_Sinatra" title="Frank Sinatra">Frank Sinatra</a>, who recorded it on his 1964 album <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/It_Might_as_Well_Be_Swing" title="It Might as Well Be Swing">It Might as Well Be Swing</a></i>, accompanied by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Count_Basie" title="Count Basie">Count Basie</a>, under the direction of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quincy_Jones" title="Quincy Jones">Quincy Jones</a>.
It was the last song Sinatra sang in public, on February 25, 1995, and
the words "The Best is Yet to Come" are etched on Sinatra's tombstone.
Though Sinatra made it popular, the song was actually written for and
introduced by Tony Bennett.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-0"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Best_Is_Yet_to_Come_%28song%29#cite_note-0"><span>[</span>1<span>]</span></a></sup> <b>"(<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Best_Is_Yet_to_Come_%28song%29" target="_blank">Wiki</a>) (<a href="http://lyrics.wikia.com/Nancy_Wilson:The_Best_Is_Yet_To_Come" target="_blank">Lyrics</a>)</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm listening to Nancy Wilson's version (Nancy Wilson is one of my favorite jazz vocalist FYI): <b> </b></div>
<b><br /></b>
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<h3>
<b>Kai's Thoughts: </b></h3>
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It is important to be present
allowing yourself to feel everything that is happening in this moment and in
this place/space. I believe those things because there is something to be
learned from every situation and sometimes we find ourselves making the same
mistakes because we don't take the time to be still in uncomfortable places. I
am being still—listening and feeling all that is within me. But I know that for
me, the best is yet to come. Faith is what has kept me strong in difficult
moments, the dream that some elsewhere is possible here. </div>
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Here are some of my declarations
for this week:</div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">*Changes and transitions are more graceful as I cooperate with them.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 283.0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">*I let go of control without losing control.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 283.0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">*I never fear my own truths, powers, fantasies, wishes, thoughts,
sexuality, dreams, or ghost.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6392394729717665744#_ftn1" name="_ftnref" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;">[1]</span></span></a></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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What are some of your declarations
or affirmations that you will hold on to this week? Please share:-)</div>
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6392394729717665744#_ftnref" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;">[1]</span></span></a> These are
taken from David Richo’s book, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">How to be
an Adult: A Handbook on Psychological and Spiritual Integration</i></div>
</div>
</div>
Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-41406453463429636442012-08-27T10:55:00.002-07:002014-01-13T07:21:17.922-08:00Someday We'll All Be Free<b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: </b>"'<b>Someday We'll All Be Free</b>' is a 1973 song by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Donny_Hathaway" title="Donny Hathaway">Donny Hathaway</a> from the album <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Extension_of_a_Man" title="Extension of a Man">Extension of a Man</a></i>.
The song was released as the flipside to the single "Love, Love, Love".
Though the song was only released as an uncharted A-side, it is
considered an R&B standard, having been covered by many artists over
the years.
The lyrics were written by Edward Howard, for and about the mental pain that Donny Hathaway was experiencing at the time." (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Someday_We%27ll_All_Be_Free" target="_blank">Wiki</a>) (<a href="http://www.stlyrics.com/songs/d/donnyhathaway6550/somedaywellallbefree248217.html" target="_blank">Lyrics</a>)<br />
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<h3>
<b>Kai's Thoughts: </b>
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<i>Dear Donny,</i></div>
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<i>You have saved my life over and
over again and for that I thank you. I thank you for telling me to hang on. I
thank you for creating notes that folks had never heard sung before, so blue.
In your voice I recognize a sadness, a deep sadness, but also a deep desire to
hold on and to struggle for dreams and freedom. You held on as long as you
could and I appreciate and respect your struggle. Thank you for leaving
something behind for a queer Black boi like me to hold on to. I thank you.</i></div>
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<i>Yours in Love and in Struggle,</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Kai</i></div>
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****</div>
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I go to the ocean to cry. I go to
the ocean because it reminds me of a day when my mom, my dad and me went to the
beach. We had a picnic basket. I remember being excited because, at least for a
moment, I could pretend we were a family---my dad protected us and my mother
stared lovingly at him and laughed at all his jokes. But we all knew that we
were playing out some heteronormative fantasy that never quite existed for us Black
folk in the same way. We probably wouldn’t have used those words, but that is
what it was. For a moment, even though we knew it was play, it was nice. It was
nice to feel held and protected in the shelters of patriarchy. If only that
were really the case, if only we had really been protected and safe. That dream
so quickly turns to nightmare and the beach fantasy fades away leaving us still
poor and still Black in a country that spends more money and energy on killing
the poor instead of changing the conditions that produce the poor.</div>
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I have struggled with depression
for most of my life and I mean that. I can remember sitting in the dark of my
mothers closet burying myself in mountains of clothing and feeling comforted by
the darkness and the calming cool of the space. I was young, very young and I
would go in there and sing a song, my song, “nobody loves me, nobody likes me.”
I sang this over and over again until I could cry. I remember one afternoon my
mother caught me and asked me what was wrong. I didn’t know how to tell her
what was wrong because I didn’t know. She asked me if it was because my Dad was
away in prison and I said yes. She tried to comfort me then. My sadness went
deeper than my Dad’s incarceration, but I didn’t have the words to articulate a
feeling, a thing that I continue to carry even now. There was no particular
reason for my tears, but they still came. I felt like I had to justify them,
but I’m learning how to not. How to just let them fall how to take deep
breathes and release. The ocean always changes for it is always moving and we
couldn’t stop that if we wanted to—and some seem to be trying. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
This post is difficult to write
because my depression feeds off of being hidden in closets, at night alone, I
sneak away and when I am alone I am met with a deep sense of sorrow.</div>
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<i>Don’t have to justify my tears/ I
go to the ocean and breathe in God/I breathe out all that has been bound in
here/In my chest/But for now I give myself rest</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
When I was in high school my
feelings of sadness I discovered came from not being able to articulate anger,
not feeling as though I could say I don’t like this or that, yet I still felt all
of those things. I would listen to Donny Hathaway albums and cry after cutting
myself. I cut myself because I wanted to cry, but could no longer get to the
tears. The physical pain helped me to cry. I wanted to feel and not to feel all
the things that felt just to heavy to bear. I didn’t know how to articulate
these things because I hadn’t been taught how to deal with hurt feelings. I was
taught to forgive, forgive without working through and move on. Keep moving. No
matter what, keep moving. I had to be strong because there were moments in my
childhood when there weren’t people around to protect me. </div>
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In high school I learned how ask
for what I want/need. I learned that it was okay to ask for what I want and to
tell someone what I don’t like. As a survivor of childhood sexual trauma, I
still struggle with feeling like it’s okay to ask for what I want/need and what
I do not. I’m not afraid of the tears. I’m not afraid of the sadness. I know it
is all there and I listen to it. I stopped cutting after high school, but I can
still feel the kind of pain I felt back then. What I do to manage these days is
to talk about it even though it’s hard, even though I still feel a great sense
of shame around my struggles with depression. </div>
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I write this to let other folk
who struggle with depression know that it is okay. You are not weak. You are
very strong and I love you. If you struggle with sadness and depression, what
are some of the tools you use to keep yourself healthy? If you are an
ally/friend to someone with depression, what are the tools you use to support?
Here are some of my tools:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
1) As I am taking hormones, I
have to be extra careful about the balance of chemicals in my body, so I take
supplement like St. John’s Wort (comes in tea form). I also drink other hormone
balance teas. Vitamin D supplements are essential for me. When I was in high school
I discovered that I had a very serious vitamin D deficiency. I had to take an overdose
of vitamin D for years. A lack of vitamin D can seriously affect ones mood, so
get your levels checked if you can). <a href="http://altmedicine.about.com/od/healthconditionsatod/a/Depression1.htm" target="_blank">Here</a> is a link with some other herbal
suggestions.</div>
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2) Talk therapy has been good and
very necessary in moments while in others it has simply felt like an unhelpful
task that I resented. Figure out if talk therapy works for you and mostly
that’s about finding the right therapist. Don’t be afraid to ask your therapist
for what you need. If you need assignments, if you need more feedback, if you
need feedback in a particular way—let them know. This is a space that is about
you so don’t be afraid to make it work for you and take up the space you need.
There are also other forms of therapy that are based in somatic practices that
might be useful especially if you are trying to deal with trauma.</div>
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3) Meditate. For me meditation
sometimes comes in the form of sitting and conscious breathing. Sometimes I do
yoga poses, but what has been the best kind of meditation is hiking. Find your
meditative practice, a time where you encounter yourself whole and consciously
aware of both your mind and your body. I have a difficult time being fully
present in body which is why I like meditative hikes because I spend time
asking my body how it feels and observing and feeling all of myself as I move.
Of course sometimes it is good to be still. Can you be still?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
4) Regular physical activity is a
MUST. I do some kind of strenuous physical activity at least three times a week
(recently I have been running). When I can feel myself falling into a bout of
depression I know that I need to workout more even though those are the times
when I just want to hide away in bed. I have to push myself to do the activity
knowing that I always feel better afterwards.</div>
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5) Check in with friends. People love
you and care about you. If you’re having a hard time let someone know. If you
can, ask for what you need. I have a really hard time reaching out to people
when I’m depressed because I feel ashamed. I also don’t want to feel like a
burden. Yes, you have to be careful of boundaries, but let your friends and
loved ones know you are having a hard time because they love you and as much as
you might feel like it, you are not alone.</div>
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<i>Freedom in my heart/ Freedom in my bowl/ And my face is
black/ Like my freedom/ Like my soul/ The thing that can never be bought or sold/
Black is beautiful/ Black as night/ Black and the time is right/ To escape we
don’t need the light/ We just need each other</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span>That’s all I have for now. What
are some your strategies for coping with depression? Please share.<br />
<br />
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Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-43185139650496310542012-06-21T10:26:00.000-07:002012-06-21T10:26:03.135-07:00Love Never Changes<b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: "Love Never Changes"</b> is from Ledisi's 2009 Album, "Turn Me Loose." If you don't know about Ledisi....you need to know. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ledisi" target="_blank">Ledisi Wiki</a> , <a href="http://www.ledisi.com/" target="_blank">Ledisi Official Website</a> , <a href="http://www.songlyrics.com/ledisi/love-never-changes-lyrics/" target="_blank">Lyrics</a> .<br />
<br />
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<br />
<b>Kai's Thoughts: </b> <br />
<br />
<i>Love, it will never go/ Love, even when you go/ It never leaves, no, no/ Love never changes, love</i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Love just is. It exists above, below, and all around us, but what's
most important is the love we all carry within. We must cultivate
this love within, especially as queer people of color. We must practice loving ourselves and one another fiercely. As my body goes through stages of healing I have had some difficulty looking at myself, my chest, right now as it is. I know that my scars will fade and in reality I'm healing really fast (Thanks to all of you who have supported and continue to support me). But it is still difficult for me to sit with the scars as they are now without wandering into some future moment where my body is fully healed and my nipple pigmentation has returned. There is nothing wrong with thinking about the future or even planning it, but when that future or even some past has the power to take us away from the blessing of this present, then we miss the opportunity for presence. It is sometimes difficult to look at oneself right where you are, right now. In this very moment can you affirm the beauty of you? The love that is you? I affirm the love I have for myself and my body right now in this moment (Take a second to do the same for yourself, because you deserve it). This is my struggle these days and it can feel stifling. I am practicing tapping into my(self) love, the unconditional love that I have for myself, it is where I want to find my will to survive. I often find that the love I have for others comes easy--I forgive easily. I love hard. I love long. For you...But what happens when it's just me alone in a room? When I search for some of those things to give to myself, sometimes I can't find them. I'm working on it. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiClw_GYoYTMH96AvzWBr9_eLtGKVdn8xA7eJkLpOUWPvBXXv94wHXvmFh5DuzAWcODge8TDCtcz14lX1zpmPhtjfEUl1JbTaTvSwICv0Tb4HSugldHMe_e4Xe_EaxsVG4PvN6aiy23IW7I/s1600/marlon+riggs+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiClw_GYoYTMH96AvzWBr9_eLtGKVdn8xA7eJkLpOUWPvBXXv94wHXvmFh5DuzAWcODge8TDCtcz14lX1zpmPhtjfEUl1JbTaTvSwICv0Tb4HSugldHMe_e4Xe_EaxsVG4PvN6aiy23IW7I/s200/marlon+riggs+3.jpg" width="123" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marlon Riggs</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">I'm inspired by so many, but the artists Lyle Ashton Harris and Marlon Riggs stand out to me today. These
artists throw themselves into their work, into their art, and it feels like life.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;"> Their art is life that refuses death even in the face of death, they choose love. Through their art they give love boldly. I am always so moved when I watch Riggs,' <a href="http://youtu.be/ULGpzTTd-bk" target="_blank"><i>Black is...Black Ain't</i></a> because his film is a gift of love to all that watch it, but you can also see how Riggs' loved himself enough to share this vision with us. He was dying and he allowed us to witness his transition from this world to the next. He did not go easily. He left us road-maps, tools, art and every time I revisit his art I revisit him in all his beauty and brilliance. I am thankful that he took the time to make art with love and persistence. Riggs and Harris like so many other queer people of color, refused to be silent. They were and we are the people who survive even though they/we were never supposed to. Or better said by Audre Lorde, <a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1285622449"><i>"</i></a></span><a href="http://shrinkingphallus.wordpress.com/the-transformation-of-silence-into-language-and-action-by-audre-lorde/" target="_blank"><i>For to survive in this dragon we call America, we have had to learn this first and most vital lesson – that we were never meant to survive. Not as human beings."</i></a><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;"> We are miracles. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
Lyle Ashton Harris gives us <a href="http://crggallery.com/press/flash-art-10/">“Redemptive Narcissism”</a> as '“...self-love... a form of resistance to the tyranny of mediocrity. I see the mirror not only as a site of trauma and death – Narcissus falling in to drown – but as a space for rigorous meditation, cleansing and recuperation.”' How might we use redemptive narcissism as a tool? What will you do today to show your(self) love?<br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjrxYRZe3eAdVbVBGiZjcuOeKuDNXOZN9r1pGNma1DaqqEbr5ENu5EkfCe_p4_BfEfLD1KepfnDTtzvllF9UEYO25aeXAJwR05Epxw2lRkYxzMYDKR9Vfx2qnVGochc-PFJzkPjXgv2j-D/s1600/brotherhood.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjrxYRZe3eAdVbVBGiZjcuOeKuDNXOZN9r1pGNma1DaqqEbr5ENu5EkfCe_p4_BfEfLD1KepfnDTtzvllF9UEYO25aeXAJwR05Epxw2lRkYxzMYDKR9Vfx2qnVGochc-PFJzkPjXgv2j-D/s200/brotherhood.jpg" width="158" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lyle Ashton Harris, "Brotherhood"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Today I give love back to me<br />
Told I was just too Black to be<br />
Too queer to see<br />
that there simply wasn't anymore room<br />
For we<br />
We who dare to love bodies like our own<br />
Black, queer, scarred, hard and soft<br />
Brown, shy, fierce, and brave,<br />
We could never just behave<br />
Could never completely be cadged<br />
Perhaps our bodies, never our souls<br />
But I want it all, <br />
Back to me<br />
I give love to me courageously.<br />
<br />
<br />
Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-45744875113690130692012-06-06T10:56:00.000-07:002012-06-06T10:58:35.692-07:00Easy<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: '</b>"<b>Easy</b>' is a 1977 hit single by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Commodores" title="Commodores">Commodores</a> for the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Motown" title="Motown">Motown</a> label, from their fifth studio album, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Commodores_%28album%29" title="Commodores (album)">Commodores</a>. Written by Commodores lead singer <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lionel_Richie" title="Lionel Richie">Lionel Richie</a>, the song, a slow <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ballad" title="Ballad">ballad</a> with <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Country_and_western" title="Country and western">country and western</a>
roots, expresses a man's feelings as he ends a relationship. Rather
than being depressed about the break-up, he states that he is instead 'easy like Sunday morning.' Richie wrote 'Easy' with the intention of it becoming another
crossover hit for the group, given the success of a previous single, '<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Just_to_Be_Close_to_You" title="Just to Be Close to You">Just to Be Close to You</a>', which spent 2 weeks at #1 on the <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hot_R%26B/Hip-Hop_Singles_%26_Tracks" title="Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Singles & Tracks">Billboard R&B chart</a> and peaked at #7 on the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Billboard_Hot_100" title="Billboard Hot 100">Billboard Hot 100</a> pop charts in 1976.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-whitburn130_1-0"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easy_%28Commodores_song%29#cite_note-whitburn130-1">[2]</a></sup> Released in March 1977, 'Easy' reached #1 on the <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hot_R%26B/Hip-Hop_Singles_%26_Tracks" title="Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Singles & Tracks">Billboard R&B chart</a>, and #4 on the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Billboard_Hot_100" title="Billboard Hot 100">Billboard Hot 100</a>.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-whitburn130_1-1"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easy_%28Commodores_song%29#cite_note-whitburn130-1">[2]</a></sup> The success of 'Easy' paved the way for similar Richie-composed hit ballads such as '<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Three_Times_a_Lady" title="Three Times a Lady">Three Times a Lady</a>' and '<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Still_%28Commodores_song%29" title="Still (Commodores song)">Still</a>' and also for Richie's later solo hits. The song is noted for a feedback noise, with an echo, that is heard
in the Bridge of the song. Also, an electric guitar solo dominates the
instrumental portion of the song. In addition, the other Commodores are
heard singing wordless harmonies during the Chorus of the song. The edited version receives the most airplay. The longer version from
the album features the chorus being repeated more times, a half step
up, from A Flat Major to A Major, a few times before it fades out."<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easy_%28Commodores_song%29" target="_blank">(Wiki)</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/l/lionel_richie/easy_like_sunday_morning.html" target="_blank">(Lyrics)</a><br />
<br />
<b>Kai's Thoughts: </b> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sunday mornings with mom. Music blasting from the stereo. Even 106 KMEL had a gospel playlist to help usher in the morning. In the morning. In the morning when I rise. Sunday mornings were not always easy, but every time I hear this song I think of my Sunday mornings growing up and I smile. Everything before church always seemed rushed, bath time in a hurry, dress clothes needed to be ready and ironed. No wrinkles. No wrinkles. I hate wrinkles, but I could never get the wrinkles out. Mom could get them out even when she hurt her right arm and was in pain, she'd use her left. Even her left hand ironing was better than my right. My Dad could iron too, and when he was around he'd iron all of our clothing, he'd give use creases always. I still haven't mastered the art of ironing.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There
was room for a quick breakfast: toast, cereal, or sometimes we'd just
wait for the church snacks. Church snacks included mints, gum, menthol halls, those round red sweet
and sour balls that had gum in the middle, those were my favorite after Now and Laters. Before leaving the house, we'd take turns checking ourselves out in the mirror. When my dad was around he'd always take the longest pointing out the waves in his hair and over all smoothness. We all had fun in the mirror.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My mom was always dressed to impress, hats titled to the side never falling off though. But what always stood out to me was the way my mother smelled. I loved the way my mother's sweet aroma would linger. It was either White Diamonds or Giorgio perfume. I
knew my mothers scent the same way I knew the jingle of her keys. If ever we got separated, I'd just wait for the sound of those keys. I
can still pick that sound out in crowd today.<br />
<br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Getting to church
might not have been the easiest thing, but once you were there you could breathe a little. I always enjoyed the
music. Everyone loves the music. It moved people to cry, jump, shout, or sometimes to even sprint around the church. I loved it when the
choir would march in swaying to a beat, robes dancing all on their own. Yes, I loved the A and B Selections, but what I loved even more than that
was what would come after. After the tithes & offerings, and after the announcements, there would be a
moment of prayer just before the preaching would begin. This moment of
reflection cleared space in our minds and in our hearts so
that we would be able to receive whatever it was God wanted us to. This
opening prayer could sometimes be just as powerful as the
word itself. I have recently been thinking about my relationship to
prayer. Prayer, for me, is meditative and feels easier to do when someone
is leading you in a group prayer - I like that feeling of connectedness
and community when trying to access God. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
I remember the weekday mornings, my mother would drop me off at my grandmother's house and
one of the first things she'd have us (my cousin Teenie who was my age and her husband Jimmy, who we called Big Daddy) all kneel
around her bed and each of us would go around and say our prayers out
loud. Back then I wasn't afraid but now I feel anxiety when asked to pray aloud, because back then I was able to have a conversation with God and not
fear what those around me would think. Now I sometimes fear that my
prayers might not be good enough, not good enough for the people around
me. I wonder if I also feel perhaps that my prayers aren't good enough for God. And then I wonder how did I get this way. When did I start
believing that my prayers needed to be polished and revised to be heard?
I'm working on freeing myself of that. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<Just got lost in a prayer></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
The highlight of a Sunday service for me was the
sermon, the story that we'd look to in scripture and the story the
preacher would tell to bridge the gap between that biblical story and the story
of our everyday lives and material conditions. We/I needed those links,
those stories, those metaphors because they gave and still give us/me faith,
faith that the impossible is possible. The impossible is possible, like walking on water or water that can be turned to wine. I paid close attention
to the words of the preacher, but not just the words. The silences, the spaces between the words, the breaks were sometimes just as telling...a moan, a wave of the hand... I noted moments when I didn't quite
understand or agree, but I was always listening for the message God had for me. All my years of church, Sunday school,
vacation bible school, choir rehearsals, and what I remember most is faith that the impossible is possible. What I remember is the will to
persevere. I hold on to the belief that God is love and love is the
greatest gift we have to offer one another. I learned this through Christianity, but I also had to unlearn a lot of what had been taught to me because it wasn't love and it wasn't God. I know that Christianity has
been a colonialist project, but I know that is not all it has been for me. It is but one mode of accessing something else, God, love, the divine. If I hadn't been raised in the
church, I don't think I'd feel so passionately about injustice and
freedom.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom, Oldest Brother, Me, Aunt</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So this was a long road to get to my easy like Sunday Morning, which didn't occur back then until the late afternoon. The after church
moments. The moments when we'd meet up with family at a restaurant or at
my aunt's house for Sunday dinner and games. We'd change into
our play clothes. We'd laugh. We'd eat and it was it is easy. I remember
those moments as warm, tender, and fun, so much fun. Those were the moments I never wanted to end and those are the moments I remember on easy Sunday mornings. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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</div>Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-3127430587711929602012-05-30T09:20:00.000-07:002012-05-30T09:20:34.450-07:00Feeling Good<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: '</b>"<b>Feeling Good</b>' is a song written by English singer-songwriters <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthony_Newley" title="Anthony Newley">Anthony Newley</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leslie_Bricusse" title="Leslie Bricusse">Leslie Bricusse</a> for the 1965 musical <i><a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Roar_of_the_Greasepaint_-_The_Smell_of_the_Crowd" title="The Roar of the Greasepaint - The Smell of the Crowd">The Roar of the Greasepaint - The Smell of the Crowd</a></i> starring <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cy_Grant" title="Cy Grant">Cy Grant</a>, who sang the original version of the song. The song has notably been covered by artists such as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nina_Simone" title="Nina Simone">Nina Simone</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muse_%28band%29" title="Muse (band)">Muse</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Bubl%C3%A9" title="Michael Bublé">Michael Bublé</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eels_%28band%29" title="Eels (band)">Eels</a> (see longer list below). <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nina_Simone" title="Nina Simone">Nina Simone</a>'s version appeared on her 1965 album <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I_Put_a_Spell_on_You_%28album%29" title="I Put a Spell on You (album)">I Put a Spell on You</a>.</i> Simone's version is also featured in the 1993 film <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Point_of_No_Return_%28film%29" title="Point of No Return (film)">Point of No Return</a></i>,
in which the protagonist uses the code name "Nina" and professes to be a
longtime fan of Simone's music. The song was also featured in the
promotional video of the TV series <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Six_Feet_Under_%28TV_series%29" title="Six Feet Under (TV series)">Six Feet Under</a></i> (4th season), and is included in the show's volume 2 soundtrack. Simone's version is in the soundtracks of the 2006 film <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Last_Holiday_%282006_film%29" title="Last Holiday (2006 film)">Last Holiday</a></i>,<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-0"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feeling_Good#cite_note-0"><span>[</span>1<span>]</span></a></sup> the 2010 film <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Repo_Men" title="Repo Men">Repo Men</a></i>, the French 2011 film <i><a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intouchables" title="Intouchables">Intouchables</a></i> <sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-1"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feeling_Good#cite_note-1"><span>[</span>2<span>]</span></a></sup>, the 2009 game <i><a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Saboteur_%282009_video_game%29" title="The Saboteur (2009 video game)">The Saboteur</a></i> (set during World War II, long before the song was written),<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-2"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feeling_Good#cite_note-2"><span>[</span>3<span>]</span></a></sup> and the <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chuck_%28TV_series%29" title="Chuck (TV series)">Chuck</a></i> episode "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chuck_Versus_the_Honeymooners" title="Chuck Versus the Honeymooners">Chuck Versus the Honeymooners</a>."<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feeling_Good" target="_blank">(Wiki)</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.metrolyrics.com/feeling-good-lyrics-nina-simone.html" target="_blank">(Lyrics)</a></div>
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*We all know that Wikipedia isn't the best way to get information, but especially in this case and with this artist, I suggest really doing some background research. For starters you can check out her own website, http://www.ninasimone.com. If you're feeling really moved, which I hope you are, check out Daphne A. Brooks' essay,<a href="http://proquest.umi.com.libproxy.usc.edu/pqdlink?did=2277160571&Fmt=2&clientId=5239&RQT=309&VName=PQD%20" target="_blank"> "Nina Simone's Triple Play" in Callaloo (Winter 2011). </a> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZK7VRR0dj-Xpi89syD8Q0WJ7jnzUCIcGd_mJyDyj5MDLzNa5ECt0_9HnJ6LiPO1AI34aaLdAvOLYr0Dj6rjMRzLAf3ERXGtr1uqJg0Z82CAORUnc257MfL3leUoq1-UlHVbXkdGtkBl4C/s1600/IMG_1518.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZK7VRR0dj-Xpi89syD8Q0WJ7jnzUCIcGd_mJyDyj5MDLzNa5ECt0_9HnJ6LiPO1AI34aaLdAvOLYr0Dj6rjMRzLAf3ERXGtr1uqJg0Z82CAORUnc257MfL3leUoq1-UlHVbXkdGtkBl4C/s320/IMG_1518.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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<b>Kai's Thoughts: </b> </div>
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Last bind/Last time I’ll have to fit my chest, my breasts into spaces
that are much too small/Last time I’ll hunch and slouch/ Excited to
learn how to stand tall/Last bind/ I went to sleep and awoke to bandages
squeezing around tighter/ tighter/I almost couldn’t breathe/I almost
couldn’t swallow/ But I was reminded that this would be my last bind/
not my last breath/So I rest/ Knowing that soon I’<span class="text_exposed_show">ll
be free/Drains will be removed/Nipples have been reattached/Scars will
remain/ Not reminding me of the pain/ But of the freedom I have
gained/We who were born into bodies and made choices to change
them/Rearrange them/I have scars from those who have not had to think
about what they left behind on my body/But these scars/ These scars will
be powerful/ Are already powerful because I claim them/They are mine/
Thank God for my last bind.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnIbLDEhfGI1MYJHuJmhbDVs5MMeA3YgByAWiwBUHuj2pkk-pWIdxISKvJuk6E6ODwJjduzEat1rXlDOMdCcO13gIqt5wmBwh0LJv-ITWxd04fJZOQxWzGdO8eOu1nX2QuP4Va_4Gy6sMv/s1600/IMG_6790.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnIbLDEhfGI1MYJHuJmhbDVs5MMeA3YgByAWiwBUHuj2pkk-pWIdxISKvJuk6E6ODwJjduzEat1rXlDOMdCcO13gIqt5wmBwh0LJv-ITWxd04fJZOQxWzGdO8eOu1nX2QuP4Va_4Gy6sMv/s320/IMG_6790.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/Lyric"><span class="line line-s" id="line_25"></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25"></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25">"Stars when you shine you know how I feel/</span>
<span class="line line-s" id="line_26">Scent of the pine you know how I feel/</span>
<span class="line line-s" id="line_27">Oh freedom is mine</span>
<span class="line line-s" id="line_28">And I know how I feel</span></span>"</div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show">Freedom...When my new chest was finally revealed to me all I could do was smile. I couldn't believe that it was me. I was looking at myself and seeing for the first time, on my body, liberation. It wasn't perfect, but it was beautiful still. I could see my stretch marks from before would still be carried on this new chest of mine, but even they became beautiful like streaks of sun rays beaming. For the first time in....my heart space was open. And I felt afraid. I felt as </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_iOJMehTLCEqdkvpfx1dKOef2G13NGzf4tYBVwyhF5z4hPhK04O9RobyMmwgER7UrOhToz_9NHd34m0lqAMpffdIk9_rblDi0nUm5UeQszUZ91rWEz0T8FQAJrJtvC_iqB8VE9FIX3EyU/s1600/IMG_6794.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_iOJMehTLCEqdkvpfx1dKOef2G13NGzf4tYBVwyhF5z4hPhK04O9RobyMmwgER7UrOhToz_9NHd34m0lqAMpffdIk9_rblDi0nUm5UeQszUZ91rWEz0T8FQAJrJtvC_iqB8VE9FIX3EyU/s200/IMG_6794.jpg" width="150" /></a><span class="text_exposed_show"> though something might fall out or apart. I had an urge to put that binder right back on, because though it was painful and made me stiff, it has been for so long the thing that made me feel safe, strong and secure. Might I be afraid of freedom? Were my ancestors ever afraid? Have you ever been afraid of freedom? I would imagine yes, but freedom is not something you turn you</span><span class="text_exposed_show"></span><span class="text_exposed_show">r back on once you begin pursuing its lovely breeze. But we have to talk about are fears lest they permeate our subconscious and dictate our future actions/inactions. </span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show">I remember when I was five years old, that is when my body started to change. That is when my mother took me to the doctor because somethings began to sprout from my chest. His advice, "get her a training bra." </span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show">I remember starting kindergarten. I remember my best friends were Sean, Edward, Richard, Sol, and Paul and in later years Aris and Jabari. I remember that we used to love to play Ninja Turtles. I remember hating "girly" cartoons not because of the stories, but because in coloring books everyone was always so skinny and I had difficulty staying in the lines. I remember Paul invited everyone over to watch Ninja Turtles and I asked my mom if I could go and she said no because they were all boys and I was not. I didn't question it then. I just played with them at school and left it at that, but now I remember that moment and think...</span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show">I remember in either 1st or 2nd grade, in the afternoons we'd all have free time and play. It would get hot in the afternoon and we'd all strip down to our t-shirts. I remember my mom coming to get me one day and I was in my t-shirt and she was upset. I couldn't walk around in my t-shirt like everyone else, I had parts that needed to be protected and covered up. </span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show">Freedom. I was five when I started growing breasts. I was five when I learned that my body needed to be covered up. I wanted to play ninja turtles with the boys, but I would learn that I was a girl and girls have to be protected. Where do you draw the line between protection and policing? </span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show">My whole life I felt like I was in the wrong body or gender--this is not my narrative, though I honor and acknowledge it as one that many trans people have. However, I have felt that whatever space I take up, neither genders are able to fully hold what I am, what I have, or what I desire. I have always desired freedom. I have never been able to color inside the lines without making new lines or boundaries. </span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show">What is freedom? </span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show">Freedom is the ability to move if you want to. </span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show">Freedom is a dream passed down from generations past that we must continue to make manifest anew.</span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show">Freedom is the abolition of all prisons.</span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show">Freedom is Black love is Black wealth. </span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show">Freedom is...</span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show">What is freedom to you? Write back and let me know.</span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show">I'm Feeling Good:-)</span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/h8tuTSi6Sck?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show"> </span></div>Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-44694014295645893252012-05-22T05:32:00.001-07:002012-05-22T05:32:13.017-07:001+1<style>
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<b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: '</b>"<b>1+1</b>' is a song recorded by American recording artist <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beyonc%C3%A9_Knowles" title="Beyoncé Knowles">Beyoncé Knowles</a> for her fourth studio album, <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/4_%28Beyonc%C3%A9_Knowles_album%29" title="4 (Beyoncé Knowles album)">4</a></i> (2011). It was released by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Columbia_Records" title="Columbia Records">Columbia Records</a> in the United States on May 25, 2011, as a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Promotional_recording" title="Promotional recording">promotional single</a>. Serving as the opening track on <i>4</i>, it was written and produced by Knowles, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The-Dream" title="The-Dream">The-Dream</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tricky_Stewart" title="Tricky Stewart">Tricky Stewart</a>. "1+1" was originally titled "Nothing but Love" and The-Dream had initially planned to include it on his second studio album, <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Love_vs._Money" title="Love vs. Money">Love vs. Money</a></i> (2009). A <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tempo" title="Tempo">down-tempo</a> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Contemporary_R%26B" title="Contemporary R&B">contemporary R&B</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soul_music" title="Soul music">soul music</a> <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ballad_%28music%29" title="Ballad (music)">power ballad</a>,
"1+1" Knowles expressing her endless love to her soul mate; the lyrics
make strong statements about the power of the relationship."<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1%2B1_%28song%29" target="_blank">(Wiki) </a><br /><a href="http://www.directlyrics.com/beyonce-1-+-1-lyrics.html" target="_blank">(Lyrics)</a></div>
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<b>Kai's Thoughts: </b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">Yes it’s time for
Kai’s weekly jam. And yes I have to go with Beyonce’s “1+1” (Treva, I look
forward to hearing your rendition when I get home;-). I love this song! I woke
up this morning after having dreams about eating lots of mints in the middle of
the night. The doctor told me yesterday to make sure not use toothpaste this
morning, nothing with mint and I suppose that followed me into dreamland. All
night, I found myself accidently popping mints into my mouth then realizing,
“oh you’re not supposed to eat those!” Then, in my dreams, I sat with the dilemma
of whether or not to tell my doc if I had eaten the mints. I always spit them
out, so I didn’t completely ingest them. I wanted to hold on to the sweet taste
though. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">You all have been my
sweet reminder that I am loved and I am love because we are love. How do I
express my gratitude to my friends from boarding school, my sister who called
me to talk about Baldwin and wish me luck, my sister who was my first roommate
who was also the first person to donate to my chip-in site? How do I express
gratitude to my middle school advisor, my English teacher who taught me how to
read closely and not to be afraid of writing what I feel? She took the time to
teach us about emotional intelligence. My high school advisor reached out to me
to let know they are in support of me all the way in Wellesley. How do I
express gratitude for kindred spirits who send me poems and prayers—lavender by
my bedside and candles aflame on my behalf? How do I tell you thank you, a deep
thank you? Thank you, to people I didn’t even know so well in elementary school
who reached out to me to say, “I’m proud of you!” How do I express that kind of
gratitude? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">I have had some
really dark days. There were times when I was sure I didn’t want take another
breath—but a prayer, but faith. But love has kept me here and blessed me with
you. How do I say thank you to my mother and to my aunts who fast and pray for
me today even though they do not want me to do this? How do I say thank you to
my grandmother who passed away? How do I say thank you for teaching me how to
pray to God? Thank you for teaching me about a loving God. In your bedroom we’d
kneel by the bed and we’d all have to say our prayers aloud to God—you showed
me how to access God for myself. You knew you wouldn’t always be here and I
wasn’t ready for you to go when you did, but I hold you and your lessons with
me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">How do I say thank
you to my brothers/studs/trans guys who stand with me on this journey? My
people, my people, I didn’t even know I had a people. Thank God for the Brown
Boi Project for helping us to find ourselves and each other. We are stronger
now. We are braver now. We can be lovers of the feminine and the masculine within
ourselves and in others—we have been healed and the healing continues. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">How do I express my
gratitude to the almost 50 people who donated to my chip-in site? You sent me
off with almost 1800 dollars (That covers all of my surgical fees + rental car
for the 10 days). Insurance does not cover these kinds of procedures, but my
community stepped up. You are my insurance—what a powerful thing to witness and
to have witnessed. I am only one person, but we—we are love. We are so big. We
are so strong and you prove that. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">How do I say thank
you? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">I haven’t been able
to cry for some months now. I have played the saddest Donny Hathaway songs I
know, the most moving Kirk Franklin songs—the ones that always used to make me
cry, but no tears. I drove around last week really looking for those tears and
for that sadness that I used to be able to tap in to. I couldn’t find it. I
realized that deep down; deep deep down inside my soul, inside my heart, where
there used to be sadness, there is joy. A healing has taken place. This is a
joy, I haven’t felt before, it’s in my core. And I thank you all for going on
this journey with me. The thing about transition is that as much as you might
like to, you can’t do it alone. As you change it is inevitable that those around
you will have to change. Sometimes you may have to part ways with people who
refuse the challenge. Sometimes you will have to fight with those you love, but
mostly you will need to be patient and kind.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">You all have made
love to me, have made love of me, and with me. And all I have to give you in
return is, thank you. When I go under today I will be holding the sweetness of
you in my mind and in my heart. I go without fear, nervousness, or worry,
because I am being held. Thank you for seeing me. You have helped me to find
freedom. You have shown me a radical we, a radical elsewhere. Thank you. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">***(An
intellectual pondering)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">While androgyny is
mostly understood as an individual’s identity or gender presentation, Toni Cade
Bambara offers us another possibility when she writes “Perhaps we need to let
go of all notions of manhood and femininity and concentrate on Blackhood. We
have much alas to work against. The job of purging is staggering. It perhaps
takes less heart to pick up the gun than to face the task of creating a new
identity, a self, perhaps an androgynous self, via commitment to the struggle”
(Bambara 103). She asks to think about a possible geographical shift of the
self, a process that requires an undoing of some of what we have come to know
as essential to identity formation of race and gender. Now, it is one thing to
imagine a non-bifurcated self that perhaps undoes the work of the splitting up
of a consciousness, but it is another thing to call for a collective
androgynous self as it implies a restructuring of the self that no doubt
requires a restructuring of a collective. An androgynous self requires a
reorientation to subjectivity that is less about an individual as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I</i> and more about the work of the
individual as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">They </i>or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Them, </i>or even a radical<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> We. <span style="color: red;"></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It is helpful now to move to a dictionary
definition of androgyny in order to better understand what I have proposed
above as a politic of androgyny:</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times;">1<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">:</b> having the characteristics
or nature of both male and female </span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times;">2: a<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">:</b> neither specifically
feminine nor masculine <the androgynous pronoun<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>them><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>b <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">:</b> suitable to or for either sex <androgynous clothing> </span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>3<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">:</b>
having traditional male and female roles obscured or reversed <an <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>androgynous
marriage> (Merriam-Webster.com)</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">I want to focus on
the example given in 2a because it illuminates androgyny’s relationship to
liminality that is less about the disorientation of in-betweeness and more
about an orientation to collectivity, hence the emphasis of the pronoun <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">them. </i>This <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I </i>as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">them </i>can only be
understood as a collection or collective of some sort, which perhaps could be
separated but is not. The Black feminist call for an androgynous self is a call
to recognize the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">them/we</i> always
present in the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I </i>which seemed to be
forgotten when all the “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">women</i>” were
thought to be white and all the Blacks were thought to be men in social and
political thought and praxis<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6392394729717665744#_ftn1" name="_ftnref" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;">[1]</span></span></a>.
Black <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">women’</i>s very existence crushed
and destroyed the logic of organizations that believed they were able to combat
oppression from the stance of race, class, or gender without understanding how
all of those categories work in and through one another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Black feminists interrupted, asking
Black <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">men</i> and white <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">women</i> to recognize the problem as bigger
than a singular group’s call—they asked for a recognition of the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">them/we </i>essential to the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">An
androgynous self is not easily recognizable within the confines of our
knowledge, which insist that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">the human</i>
be predicated first on the recognition of either woman or man, and anything
other than that becomes deviant and dehumanized. We can also only see these
subjects if they are in motion towards becoming either man or woman. To occupy
this liminal space without the desire to become or to be something legible to
the world as either male or female is a radical stance, proving that there are
other ways of being. This is at the heart of an androgynous politic, which,
like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Black Woman, </i>is situated in
the margins of the margins, not asking to be let in to frameworks of either/or,
but instead insisting upon an interrogation of how this binary thinking has a
way of policing and oppressing rather than building strong collectives and
coalitions. A Black feminist stance is an androgynous stance that refuses to
choose one thing over another as it already knows that game to be a farce,
which does more to distort problems than to illuminate them in their full
complexity. An Androgynous politic or modality is one that is able to occupy
the marginal spaces, not in hopes of someday penetrating the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">normal, </i>but instead always working
through and toward possibilities outside of those that have been deemed
permissible by the state. There is indeed <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">something
else</i> to be, and there is much difficulty in the practice of deciphering
that something else to be on its own terms—what are the tools necessary for
seeing differently something different?</span></div>
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****<br />
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<span style="font-family: Times;">Thank You. <3</span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/KaasJ44O5lI?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="mso-element: footnote-list;">
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<div id="ftn" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6392394729717665744#_ftnref" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;">[1]</span></span></span></a><span style="font-family: Times;">Gloria T. Hull, Patricia Bell Scott, and Barbara
Smith. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">All the Women are White, All the
Blacks are Men, but Some of Us Are Brave: Black women's studies</i>. (Old
Westbury, N.Y: Feminist Press, 1982.)</span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6392394729717665744#_ftnref" name="_ftn2" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;">[2]</span></span></span></a><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"> In an
attempt to create my method of critical ethnography, I asked one of my
interviewees to interview me. This interview method was an attempt to explore the
way that we as Native ethnographers engage with power, and how we might disrupt
the hierarchical relationship between subject and researcher by actively
putting oneself in the position of subject. It was also a way to use skill
sharing as a way of reciprocity. My method here opens a fruitful discussion
regarding ethnographic film and native ethnography. See John L. Jackson’s<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"An Ethnographic Filmflam: Giving
Gifts, Doing Research, and Videotaping the Native Subject/Object," to
further enhance this discussion.</span></div>
</div>
</div>Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-81964594092789802692012-05-14T22:56:00.000-07:002012-05-14T23:06:34.341-07:00Hidden Charms<b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: </b><b>"Hidden Charms" </b>is a beautiful acoustic soul ballad given to us by Van Hunt. The song can be found on Hunt's 2004 album <b>"Van Hunt (Acoustic)- EP". </b>You can find more info about the artist here: <a href="http://www.vanhunt.com/" target="_blank">Van Hunt </a>. Because there isn't much info about this song I had to transcribe the lyrics myself: <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr4lf70tL81WxBknWGoFsClsEAyaiCjcwNnxgaVFNw1k8qapD637uLyhRhppjfhXh1KAyYYzZFK-8r0w1JV66bxa6rCtLGE14xWHErl2E7ANDSZDh6P7rubU_x4kOrnUsIdRwiHwhyphenhyphentSOs/s1600/Hidden+Charms.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr4lf70tL81WxBknWGoFsClsEAyaiCjcwNnxgaVFNw1k8qapD637uLyhRhppjfhXh1KAyYYzZFK-8r0w1JV66bxa6rCtLGE14xWHErl2E7ANDSZDh6P7rubU_x4kOrnUsIdRwiHwhyphenhyphentSOs/s640/Hidden+Charms.jpg" width="494" /></a> <b> </b></div>
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<b>Kai's Thoughts: </b></div>
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This
song has blasting on my speakers all weekend. It's all about the
journey. That's what this song reminds me. What is so beautiful to me is the lyric, "your audience is waiting." I imagine my audience
as an active community, a collective of folk who walk with me, people who whisper in my ear and tell me to keep going when I want to quit. I imagine my audience as those who send me emails just to say that they appreciate my story and my willingness to share--your encouragement keeps me going. I thank you. A supportive community is what gives me the courage to move, the courage to change, and the determination to grow. I am
so appreciative of my community, the people who heal me, the people who
laugh with me, the people who give me space when I need it, and the folks who are there to hug me when I need it. </div>
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My dream for the world is that we all have the opportunity to discover our hidden
charms, those passions deep within, the art, the poetry, the ideas, the dreams of freedom that so often become difficult to hold on to in the face of everyday living in capitalist America. The American dream is a nightmare that turns almost everything into a commodity. But we have dreams that are so much valuable than the dollar could ever be. How beautiful
it would be if we could all just be? What if we could move freely
without fear? </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My prayer
for myself and for my partner and for my mother and for my father and
for you is that we all find our hidden charms. Once we
discover them within ourselves, we must share them. When we begin to share our talents and our gifts, we create an opening for transformation.</div>
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Transformation. Transition. The decision to transition was one that I made for myself. But my decision meant that everyone around me also had to change. Sometimes people were resistant. Sometimes people came around later. Sometimes you might lose the folks who aren't ready to make the journey with you, but don't be discouraged for there will always be those who are with you. There are ancestors that hold you up. There are people praying for you that you might not even be aware of. I thank my ancestors and those who pray for me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ379MA4jINcw_Di5CmUqa0a2e4zZSSv5BJXIEZrGDGYDQzHrHNX3CYNzt6D2FstR6Gc1RIy_lgZWPIDdo77PsxhbEK17X0afuVUzyCHubJ94Poj0WVPcP7PwVkLA1fqDXuF50dQ3pmbRW/s1600/kina.jpg.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ379MA4jINcw_Di5CmUqa0a2e4zZSSv5BJXIEZrGDGYDQzHrHNX3CYNzt6D2FstR6Gc1RIy_lgZWPIDdo77PsxhbEK17X0afuVUzyCHubJ94Poj0WVPcP7PwVkLA1fqDXuF50dQ3pmbRW/s320/kina.jpg.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I dedicate this Weekly Jam to my partner. I see more and more of your hidden charms shining through and it's a beautiful thing to witness. It is not always easy to be in partnership with someone who is medically transitioning, but you are here and have been here. Thank you. Thank you for transforming with me. Thank you for pushing yourself and stretching yourself even when it hurts. I love you and your hidden charms--thank you for sharing them with me. But even more than that, I thank you for taking the time and the space to discover them for yourself. </div>
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Let me know your thoughts on this song or any of the others that I have posted. Would love to hear from you, my community!<br />
<3KaiKai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-45104034847540788782012-05-09T18:40:00.001-07:002012-05-09T18:40:32.784-07:00I was Born This Way<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: </b><b>'"I Was Born This Way"</b> is a disco song by <a class="new" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Valentino_%28singer%29&action=edit&redlink=1" title="Valentino (singer) (page does not exist)">Valentino</a>, released in 1975, then by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carl_Bean" title="Carl Bean">Carl Bean</a> in 1977 (both artists for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Motown" title="Motown">Motown</a>), and a remake in 1995 by country singer <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johnny_Rodriguez" title="Johnny Rodriguez">Johnny Rodriguez</a>.
It was written by Chris Spierer and Bunny Jones. The record was first
released on the Motown-distributed Gaiee Records and performed by
Valentino formerly of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Dynamic_Superiors" title="The Dynamic Superiors">The Dynamic Superiors</a>.
Frankie Crocker of WBLS Radio in New York first aired the song and it
was an instant hit. The writers, Chris Spierer and Bunny Jones wanted to
write a Gay anthem and make the plight on Gay issues known and bring it
to the forefront.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The song's lyrics is about a man who proclaims that he's a homosexual
and that he was "born this way". It was one of the first gay disco
songs written specifically for the Gay community, before the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Village_People" title="Village People">Village People</a> wave.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was also sampled in 1999 by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stuart_Price" title="Stuart Price">Stuart Price</a>, using the alias <i>Pour Homme</i>, as "Born this Way". It was a tremendous hit in Europe.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
In 2008, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magnus_Carlsson" title="Magnus Carlsson">Magnus Carlsson</a>,
Sweden's popular gay male vocalist re-recorded 3 versions of "I Was
Born This Way" in addition to Paul Oskar of Norway. Magnus Carlsson can
be seen performing "I Was Born This Way" on YouTube as well as Marty
Thomas of the Broadway hit show "Wicked"'(Wikipedia). <a href="http://www.gugalyrics.com/CARL-BEAN-I-WAS-BORN-THIS-WAY-LYRICS/325098/" target="_blank">Song Lyrics.</a></div>
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<b>Kai's Thoughts: </b></div>
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Because this groove came out on Motown, before Lady Gaga's recent hit. Because I'm happy, carefree, and Gay. Because we all deserve freedom. Because I was born Black. Because this song makes me smile. Because this song makes me dance. Because this song makes me think of funktified church. Because the bass-line makes me feel ALRIGHT! Because I'm here. Because We have been here and will be here to sing, dance, work, fight, live, love, write, laugh, cry, holler, move and...</div>
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<br /></div>Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392394729717665744.post-73427335977559056312012-05-01T20:15:00.000-07:002012-05-01T20:15:21.462-07:00Hope That We Can Be Together Soon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><br />Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK:</b> "'Hope That We Can Be Together Soon' is a song recorded <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sharon_Paige">Sharon Paige</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harold_Melvin_%26_the_Blue_Notes">Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes</a>. Released in 1975 from their album <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/To_Be_True">To Be True</a>, it reached number one on the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hot_Soul_Singles">Hot Soul Singles</a> chart in the summer of that year. It also reached forty-two on the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Billboard_Hot_100">Billboard Hot 100</a>.<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hope_That_We_Can_Be_Together_Soon#cite_note-0">[1]</a> Unlike most of the group's singles from this time period, it's Melvin who handles most of the vocal duties, while <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teddy_Pendergrass">Teddy Pendergrass</a> appears for one line and the closing part of the song. Paige would later take on a more prominent role in the group after Pendergrass left the group for a solo career. <br /><br />The song was originally recorded in 1970 by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dusty_Springfield">Dusty Springfield</a> as "Let's Get Together Soon" and was included in her album <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Brand_New_Me">A Brand New Me</a> (which was also produced by Gamble and Huff)."(Wikipedia) <a href="http://www.elyrics.net/read/h/harold-melvin-&-the-blue-notes-lyrics/hope-that-we-can-be-together-soon-lyrics.html" target="_blank">Song Lyrics</a></div>
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<b>Kai's Thoughts: </b></div>
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I heard this song today while driving home from LAX. The opening echoes and drums made me smile and lean back. I was in traffic, but I was cruising. It took me back to my childhood, the moments when my Dad would drive. He would always lean real far back in his seat. He suggested I get my lean on too, but I couldn't find that kind of cool calm then. Today I found it and I nodded my head. I hope that we can be together soon. This song brought back memories of the weekend afternoons when my mom would sit and write letters to my father in prison. We would write him together. Recently, I wrote a letter to my father and posted on Facebook. I started thinking about the ways I have been able to come into the understanding of myself as a writer and how that had to be influenced by these letter writing years. </div>
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I remember my father's handwriting, so pretty, and smooth, but also bold. He wrote his words like he played his guitar--sweet and funky. My handwriting hasn't improved since 3rd grade, it was the only subject that I got a S in (S's were the equivalent of C's). Sometimes my dad drew cartoons and those always made me feel like we really had the power to connect and create our own world despite bars and distance. My father wrote those letters to us with passion. After reading the letter I recently wrote to my father, he responded by saying that my letter felt like it was one of the letters he would send from prison. He said he had to put his everything into those pages to keep from being lonely. We always hoped that we could be together soon. We had dreams of togetherness for our family. </div>
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I remember back then, me and my mom went for a conjugal visit (we spent the weekend I think). It was the coolest thing ever for me because I actually got a chance to hug my Dad. My mom was so happy and so in love--yes, my father had/has a way with words. My mother did/does too. Those words, those cartoons, those letters kept us connected during those visits when we couldn't touch. I remember the phone and the thick glass that separated us. This may have been the pre-technology for Skype. I remember another prison where there was a huge table that divided us. The inmates were all on the inside and the families sat on the outside. I remember how wide that table was. I remember wanting to jump over and run into my father's arms, but I also remember all the guards and their weapons. I remember the unease of my father then, the opposite of his gangsta lean. It was hard to build intimacy there, with all those folks around <i><span class="st"><em>surveiling</em></span> </i>us. We could only hope to be together soon. This song makes me think of those letters between all of us, mom, dad, and me. I like to reread the letters that I have kept from time to time. I wonder if my Dad still has the letters we wrote to him. Letter writing has been added to my meditative practices along with hiking these days. Letters are a powerful way to connect to those who we might not be able to touch otherwise. I think of those loved ones locked up, but also the ancestors that have gone on. Thanks for teaching me how to find myself. Thanks for teaching me how to find freedom. Thanks for teaching me how to find you and us despite the many barriers that try to keep us apart.</div>
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<br />Kai M. Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508491895509832014noreply@blogger.com0