May 14, 2012  Ahh... Love...   First, I must say Happy Mother's Day to all, especially to my dear, sweet Mother, and her everlasting memory!   Well... all the macaroni-Elmer's-glued-to-milk-carton jewelry box recipients, and the belt grabbin', Excedrin poppin', pedicure appointment missin', run up to the school to take the forgotten lunch, I think I should hide in the closet for 21 years mothers, should take notice:                             ***Alert***The day is coming!!!!***Stay Tuned*** My daughter just turned 15 a month ago.  Yesterday she presented me with a gift - that she bought - with her own saved money - in advance of the holiday.  It is gorgeous!  She gave me a silver charm bracelet with 2 charms: one was a heart engraved with a message "Mom, thank you for always believing in me, Love Maya."  My son, the ultimate man holiday nonchalant-ee, sent me flowers with a card that read, "Thanks for always helping me to remember what is important in life... and today it is You!"  This Sunday he graduates from Morehouse!    My husband added to the day and took me to a Kim-type-flick matinee, etc.  It was a beautiful day.  Let me just say... Will somebody, just make sure the folks know I lived a good one - no regrets - and don't let them put too much makeup on me (I like looking natural).  Lol! Because... I must be dying!  This place feels too much like heaven! :-)   Note: Mother's Day matinee... Woman Thou Art Loosed: On the 7th Day.  Well... The good: I liked the way the film was shot... there were a couple of good actors in the flick... sort of didactic but major messages were well taken...  The bad: storyline was choppy and the writing was not-so-good... Overall, it was aaaiiight.  I'm willing to support Jakes as he works out the kinks and develops his craft :-). Smilin', Kim D.   ************************************************************************************************************ May 5, 2012   Saw the Harry Belafonte bio at Chatham Theater, here in Chicago yesterday. My critique: Great must see show! Very informative; provides many little or unknown historical links. He has obviously had a rich and expansive career as an entertainer and activist. The movie was emotion stirring for me. I light-pressure clapped for several things throughout the flick, swallowed and blinked in quick repetitions too many times to keep track. This dude was involved in many major movements, with the greatest of Black leaders and struggles. One sad note for me was a critical analysis I couldn't avoid, even in my position as a great fan: Mr. Belafonte, in my "African-centered" opinion :-), had/has and affinity for "Whiteness." I can hear my critics now... just because 2 of his 3 wives were White, that doesn't mean he preferred Whiteness... just because many of his closest associations were with White entertainers or Black entertainers whose closest associations were also with Whites, doesn't mean anything. Race didn't matter to him. Well, I disagree. Mr. Belafonte has done GREAT things! We could say that and leave it there, but some may confuse the minutia of his experience as the ideal model for existence. Naw, naw... it is necessary to celebrate his good, and appreciate his greatness, as well as critique his flaws. He like many of the greats who were captured in a world of blatant subjugation, were victims of self-inflicted racism even though their actions were born of resistance and opposition to racism. It's deep and I won't get into it here. It is something all Black people still suffer from, some more than others. I'll just say for me it was apparent in the bio - the great bio, I should reiterate! My mom loved Belafonte which is why I was so excited to see his bio. In viewing the bio I felt the presence of my dear sweet now departed mother who LOVED me passionately, and made me smile when she, in her Black Power Soul Mama way, filled with fervor and conviction tried to dissuade me from wearing my hair natural, or at least, as she would offer in conclusion - "not when you're going out with me!" Lol!!! When you see those oxymoronic displays of love so close and so authentic, you come to understand and treat the problem with compassion. This is why I can't help but to honor the life of Mr. Belafonte; You gotta love the dude!   smh, KDH ************************************************************************************************************ April 3rd, 2012    Mrs. Monroe was my 3rd grade teacher.  She was my favorite.  Her love and care made a huge impact on the person I would later become.  I have tried to figure out why she has meant so much to me.  What was it about her that made her stick out from all of the other great teachers I encountered in elementary and high school?  This morning I have been trying to go back to that third grade class - the mobile unit to the south of the paved area.  The mobile units had been added to accommodate the changing community.  White folks were fleeing and upwardly mobile Black folks were filling in all the spaces until there was not space enough to house all the students.  So they poured some gravel over the grass and plopped mobile units on top.  There were thin metal, wobbly railings and a few short steps pushed against those units.  She would open the door, step out almost ducking to clear the doorway, most often smiling or sister-woman raised eyebrow greeting us.    "Mr. Such-and-Such, I know you are not out of my line... I'm gonna take a second to close my eyes and clear my sight because I think I'm seeing things."    Within a split second the named child (tough or undisciplined as he might be in other environments with other adults) would be in his place, tall and appreciative.  Mrs. Monroe had a way about her that was warm and affirming.  For me, she made being smart COOL.  I knew most of the answers and was learning that it was not cool to be so intelligent - it made you different.  Sometimes you needed to hold your hands, sit on them if need be, but don't allow them to shoot up above the level of comfort in the class.  Well, Mrs. Monroe must have sensed that I was being trained to contain myself, so she made it her business to find ways for me to work at my level.  When Janet and I, and a couple of others would finish our work early, Mrs. Monroe would give us other things to do.  She would even schedule us to come in early or stay late to "help her with things."  Hers was a wonderful learning environment that encouraged me to embrace my authentic self.  She reminded me of my mother away from my mother.  Maybe it was her unique little southern, yet citified accent.  She was not from us, here in Chicago, but the twang in her speech said she was from somewhere someone in our past had once been.  Her frame was eight feet tall, at least, back then.  Later in life I paid tribute to her in one of my books and my friend, Janet somehow contacted her and told her about it.  On the opening night for my Gallery down on Michigan, she came out.  What a surprise!  Dag!  Where'd she come from?!  I couldn't stop smiling.  It felt like her classroom all over again.  She was humble and sweet and slightly embarrassed by the attention all the ex-students gave her at the event.  She was then only about 5'9", or so, maybe even less.   This morning her funeral is being held in St. Louis.  I wanted to attend, but could not.  I'll bet her casket stretches from the funeral home to the border of that state.  In fact, I imagine it is open because the fullness of that great woman can not be condensed enough to fit into such a space.  Hhhhhh...   To Mrs. Monroe I pay tribute today.  We thank God for her life, her spirit, and her willingness to allow herself to be used in such a mighty way. We will always love her, and the experiences she created!  Awesome, awesome woman!  May God bless her soul, and may she rest in peace at God's feet.  See you later, Mrs. Monroe.   Easy, KDH          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ March 29th, 2012  What's good?!   Sometimes, when critical analysis gets too ugly and it seems to yield a continuum of negativity, I take a "GOOD!" break.  I ask my students, "What's good?!"  I want them to tell me something specific that is good in their family, their life, and/or their community.  Culturally, Black folks have a hard time with this request because in a communal culture the goal is to limit hierarchies and inflated egos, and telling the good about yourself can be perceived as bragging.  We just do what we do.  So what we slayed the tiger with our bare hands when passing the school playground on our daily 24 mile walk to work, and still made it on time.  'Twas nothin'.  No need to even thank me.  The rip wounds on my arms and torso will stop burning by the time the blisters on my feet begin to throb, the blood will air dry from the lengthy walk, and I'll stitch up the tattered clothes with strands of my hair before I reach mile 21.  Easy.   I completely understand this logic.  My life exists in it and it is quite a force for maximizing productivity.  However, on occasion folks need to pause and take account of the journey and at least some of the gains, the beauty of it all.  This helps to keep people human and to keep folk mindful of the purpose of the journey.   So today I ask everyone who reads this site to jot down 1 thing that is good right now... not something that used to be good, blah, blah, blah until someone did something, blah, blah blah... or not something that will be good when folks stop, or start, or realize, or , blah, blah, blah...  What's good RIGHT NOW?!   Tell at least 2 people about your good thang, today!  No explanations.  No quantifiers or qualifiers.  Just the good.   Here are mine for today: My son graduates from Morehouse this semester, and my daughter memorized her monologue yesterday!  Heyyyyyyy!!!!   Easy, KDH  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ March 23rd, 2012  All about ladies tonight...   Today's message... ignorance is a disease; selfishness is symptomatic of a person with low, low, low self esteem.  Children are not possessions or pawns.  Shame on miserable grown folks who knowingly destroy the lives of their children simply because they can.   Pray for children of psycho, lonely, bitter, ladies, and pray for compassion for the ladies, because they were probably once in the position they so easily place their children in.  Stop the cycle, ladies!   Next... Saw Angela Bassett tonight at St. Sabina.  She's a beautiful, regal woman with the convictions and cultural awareness of an African Queen.  Gotta love her.  Thanks to my students who attended the event.  Next Friday night Iyanla Vanzant will lecture at St. Sabina and sign her new book.  The event is free!   Easy, KDH   ********************************************************************************************************* March 21st, 2012  Well...   Happy birthday to me, it's been more than a week, plus happy anniversareeeee, and happy spring time 3d.  You had to sing it to feel it :-).   Well, long time no see.  What do I want to tell you?  Hmmm.  So much...   Soweto Gospel Choir - saw them on my b-day 3/11.  My God!  If you get the chance, see them; you'll love 'em.   Visited St. Sabina to check out Father Mike on my b-day.  Great message!  This dude is full of fire.  He makes you wanna go out and first spank some folks, then hug everybody!  Later that day, my family and friends cooked dinner for me.  They patiently waited for me to return from my last minute Soweto Gospel Choir outing.  We all found out that you can't surprise a stubborn 40 sum'n year old brut like me.  I greatly appreciate their effort, though :-).   Big thanks to Mike for GREAT Bulls seats!  Kelly got to see Philly (get whooped - lol).   National Council on Black Studies - the conference was interesting.  I would say it was great, but I hate that they have 2 million, thirteen hundred, and four panels all scheduled each hour, simultaneously. WTH?!  How are we expected to maximize our learning?... Send an arm to one, an elbow to the other, an ankle to the one that least matches our area of focus... Whaaaa?  It was good, though.  I learned a lot and enjoyed sharing time, ideas, and experiences with friends.  Kelly was on a plenary panel - I should say "The" plenary panel, which has its time slot all by itself, so that all can attend.  Thanks to Haki Madhubuti for inviting him to share that space.  There were four of them and they all did a great job!   Speaking of sharing space... last month Rev. Moss came to CSU to share with the faculty, and later in the month Rev. Wright came and guest-lectured in Kelly's class.  Dang!  Talk about African-centered education... community, church, academia, NOI, Spike Lee and the arts... you've gotta love this place and all that is possible here :-)!  I was educated here.  I teach here.  Some believe I'll be buried here... Uhhh, nah!  Lol.   Folks celebrated the life of Susan Reese (my children's aunt) on 3/17.  Everyone had known and remembered her just as I had: smiley and full of life.  What an awesome tribute to the bigness of her personality and her heart.  The celebration embodied her spirit; the pastor joked that the store owners on 79th street were probably perplexed, wondering where folks were, saddened about losing 50% of their profit for the day, because ALL of 79th was where they were least likely to be - up in that church that afternoon.  We love Suzy - may she rest in peace.   Then finally, Trayvon Martin... I'm gonna try not to cry so I can say something about this young guy.  I am having a difficult time dealing with his death.  I have a son.  He is now about to graduate from Morehouse.  He once walked through our mixed-race neighborhood.  He went to the local store...bought candy... loves iced tea... is the child of Black parents... walks standing up... wears sweat tops... occasionally dons a hood in rainy weather... looks at people who looks at him... talks on his cell phone... has friends... carries in his hands things he's purchased... is fearful when there is unwarranted attention and threats from strange people... would call for help if he thought someone somewhere might hear his humanity - find and give to him his inalienable right to be himself... slightly sags :-)... parties on weekends... loves living.  Then the deafening "BANG!"... again and again, nickel-off-the-needle-old-45-skippin' in my mind, and the 911 White lady, hysterically crying regrets that are rich and real enough to grab and hold on to... and it's not The Wire, but it's on the wire all day, and all night... and through my tears I imagine I can see his feet, walking freely - high steppin'... and I daydream and I wonder if Trayvon Martin would have pledged Q.   Hmph...   KDH         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ March 3, 2012  Check 'em out...  Two sides to every story - even today's Hip-Hop culture.  Yep.  Hope lives.     50 Cent in Africa?  Growing up?  Giving back?  ... and we all say in unison, "Asante Sana" Bruh!!!!       http://www.beansouptimes.com/home/2012/2/28/video-50-cents-trip-to-africa-to-fight-hunger-featured-on-ni.html#.T1EwmpWpKjE.aolmail     Okay, this is one of my favorites for this week...   Mos Def did a remix twist on Kanye and Jay-Z's Niggas in Paris.  Pretty courageous, Sir!  We love Mos for his consistency and his fearlessness - Yeahhhhhh!  Watch Ye and J first, then Mos Def and you'll get it.  Listen to the lyrics and disregard the Illuminati reference.  Wow!   Niggas in Paris  http://youtu.be/D3C3XkRZX2M   Niggas in Poorest  http://youtu.be/ZUFI57sOpjk   Easy, KDH   ************************************************************************************************************* February 26th, 2012  Powerful!   11:43 p.m. - Just got in from a hot Sunday night date with my man ;-).  We went to see The Convert at The Goodman Theater, here in Chicago.  My God!  If you haven't seen it, SEE IT!   Great play!  Every actor was convincing and became the character.  The writing was unbelievable and held you captive without booms and bangs and cheap cliches.  It is a must see!  Won't be there long.  It is the best I've seen in a long, long time!   Easy, KDH   ps. I haven't forgotten about the circles :-).  Soon, vairrddeee soon...   *********************************************************************************************************** February 21, 2012  Hello...   No Whitney Houston commentary.  I think I said most of what I thought of her and what she meant to my young life, while she was living.  I'll just say she was a lovely lady, and a phenomenal talent.  I appreciate having been exposed to her music and the beauty of her spirit.  That's it for that.   Okay...Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...   I'm working hard, folks.  I have little time to write :-(.  I'll get something posted here soon.  My mood is all deep and thoughtful and reflective.  Hmmm...  Let me see...  The next writing I do will be at some point in the next couple of days and it will have something to do with (dun, dunta, dun - hear the drumbeat) CIRCLES.  Yep, you read that right; that's what it says - circles.  Start thinking about circles and why circles are relevant to life.   I'll meet you back here soon and you can write me and tell me if you were thinking what I'm thinking :-).    By now you should be able to tell that I am sleepy and silly - LOL.  Therefore, I have to bid you farewell for this evening.  Just wanted you to know that I'm still here.   Peace, Kim D.    ********************************************************************************************************** February 3, 2012  True story...   I just had lunch at a quaint little spot.  If you are in Chicago, on the south side of the city, try J. Bistro @ 9836 S. Western.  The turkey burger was delicious!!  Mmmmm...  Plus, I'm told they have live jazz on Thursday nights. Okay, let me get this story out before the i-tis gets me :-). Soul Train creator Don Cornelius died this week.  His show impacted many folks' lives.  Here, in Chicago folks took to the streets, up north, and celebrated his life and legacy with a huge Soul Train line.  No, I wasn't there and didn't participate in the line this week, but I have participated in many.  I loved Soul Train... sat stuck in front of the tv learning how to be, watching the swagger of Black folks on Soul Train. One very fond memory of Soul Train comes in the form of a conversation.  When I was a young woman, still an undergraduate student in college, I had an experience I will never forget.  Moses Malone was a famous NBA player.  He was friends with my co-worker at the salon where I worked as a shampoo tech (yep).  We all had gone out a couple of times.  One time he came to town and he and my friend, and a couple of other folks went out to eat.  It was a Friday night.  I was suppose to meet them, but didn't show. The next morning I was away from home for a little while.  I don't remember why.  When I arrived home my father told me someone had called a couple of times.  He said the person said his name was Moses.  I was a bit surprised, but not shocked.  My friend had told me that Moses wanted to speak with me and had her calling me the day before.  I told my dad that the caller was "THE Moses of Moses Malone & the Sixers".  He responded with a very calm "I thought so." Then he went on to create a narrative about the call and what he and Moses each had said.  While my father was in the midst of telling me the story, the phone rang.  I answered and it was, again, Moses. "Hey, you're a hard person to catch up with.  What you gotta do that takes all day and night."   "What'd u mean?  I was only out for a minute... what's up?"  "I know you heard I've been trying to talk to you.  I want you to know I think you making a big mistake -".  He stopped mid-sentence. There was a slight pause, I imagine for redirection of his thoughts.  "But, uh, before we get to that" his raised voice, hollowed out and echoing, flooded my ear, drowning out the formulations of my comeback on his criticisms of me and my decision.  "What channel is Soul Train on down here?!" he asked.  "I've been flippin' these channels and checkin' times for hours.  Somebody said 10. The guy downstairs here at the hotel said 10:30... I can't believe people don't know what time and channel Soul Train comes on."  His disbelief was palatable.  "I ain't never seen nothin' like this.  It's crazy!"   I can't remember my exact reply; all I know is that I definitely knew the correct time and channel, and that knowledge forged an authentic respect between me and the big guy.  Since I correctly led him to Soul Train, he took it easy (a bit) on me for not being willing to date "The Rookie" whom he assured me would be great some day.  He told me I would forever regret not accepting his hook-up with "The Rookie" who had taken an interest in me.  Afterall, the guy, according to Moses, was a decent and deserving budding superstar.  "You gotta be crazy," I remember him saying to me.  "The Rookie," as he affectionately called him was none other than Michael Jordan.  I eventually ran into Jordan several times out and about in Chicago (I had already met him once with Moses and friends, which supposedly initiated the other invites) and all was forever well.  I have never regretted not dating him, though.  Really. $$$$$ You $$$ gotta $$$$ believe $$$ me :-).  Lol.  No, actually MJ was a very nice, respectful, and at the time soft spoken gentle-giant-type of dude.  I thought he was handsome and polite, but I already had a boyfriend.  I haven't bumped into Jordan in years, but if I were to see him I would probably give him a generic lifeless "hello" and smile slyly to myself thinking, "Man... you think those championships were sum'n... sshhhoot... Soul Train and the long forgotten Moses Malone almost got you the prize of your life, Bruh!"    Rest in peace, Don Cornelius... as your legacy and the Soul Train lives and rolls on and on...   Good life = great memories... KDH     ***********************************************************************************************************  Jan. 27th, 2012  Hhhhhh...   No classes today.  Headed to revive myself: hair, nails, skin, muscles... mind.   Minister Farrakhan spoke at CSU the night before last... I found out most of the attendees had not see him speak before... those attendees found out that they agreed with him more than they disagreed with what they thought they knew of him from the media - though they "might not have agreed with everything he said."  The goal was for folks to hear and judge for themselves - the message and the man.  Thanks to Minister Farrakhan!    Also, huge thanks to all the folks who came out... Derrick Rice (my buddy) came from ATL., a gentleman came from Miami, Father Pfleger and his staff were in the bldg., Sam "I Am" was there :-), soooo many students (former and current) and faculty and staff were all present. Chicago Council on Black Studies came out with students from our Black Studies partner schools in Illinois: Zoe, Armstead, and the crew :-)... Thanks!  Thanks!  Thanks!  Kwesi did a great job of gettting us fired up... then Dr. Harris shared his teaching perspective and put the event in its proper and intended context for us - wow!  Nyssa, Lisa, Faheem, and Ibrahim all made the program flow smoothly.  We all appreciate the CSU community for its effort and support!   Stay tuned...   Easy, Kim D.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ **Event Announcement** If you are in Chicago, you don't want to miss this!     Easy, Kim ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ January 11th, 2012  Bull...        Okay so, I just received the results from my DNA test. I already tested and found out that people with my same DNA exist in Sierra Leone - The Mende People, and Guinea Bissau - The Balanta People... I'm excited!  Tell me more.  Now, a few years later I take a test for racial make-up, basically to see how strong my Native American genes are.  I have about six weeks to ponder this thing, while waiting on results.  Uhh... maybe I'll contact Sherman Alexie and see if he can help me get to my people.  Bet there are a bunch of 'em left, even after all the tragedies and challenges...      Fast forward to today... the results are here!  Heyyyyy!  I open the mail and read this: Kim L. Dulaney We have determined your DNA mix. ...Your sample shows genetic similarity to individuals representing West Sub-Saharan African populations with a calculated value of 77% ± 2% and European populations with a calculated value of 23% ± 2%.      There was a pie chart off to the side of the note - 2 colors - 1 split. I searched for the other pages, other percentages, sum'n... then it clicks in my mind 23+77=100. What in the frick-frattin'?! Both my great grandmothers were Native American (according to legend). I began to get a bit frustrated, wondering who spiked my history with this fake DNA, then I remembered what I heard from Skip Gates on a program on television just last week. He said most African Americans swear they have Native American blood, when in fact they actually have White blood that they wished was Native American blood. What?! :-) Well...(breath)...I file the results, flip my hand to the air and say out loud to myself, "KMA, science is limited." ;-)   Easy, KDH   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Please circulate!  Hope to see you there! January 1, 2012   Dear Friends and Colleagues: 2012 marks the 100th anniversary of the African National Congress (ANC) – South Africa ’s (and Africa ’s) oldest continuous liberation movement. The ANC is rolling out a non-partisan year-long program of celebrations in South Africa and across the globe.  In so doing they will recognize the role each of the country’s major constituencies (labor, women, youth…) and provinces has played in the struggle for freedom.  It will also recognize and honor the support of those international partners who helped to abolish apartheid and establish South Africa ’s democracy.  The centenary celebrations will highlight not only South Africa's historical accomplishments but serve as a launch of ANC/ South Africa ’s next 100 years emphasizing the need for additional work to make economic democracy possible for more South Africans.   For several months, the Midwest ANC Centenary Committee has been planning a kickoff celebration and brainstorming a series of educational and cultural activities that will occur throughout 2012 in the Midwest to celebrate ANC's 100th Birthday.   The Chicago ANC CENTENARY kickoff will be held on Sunday, January 8, 2012 at Trinity United Church of Christ (TUCC) located at 400 W. 95th St. in Chicago, IL from 3-5pm.  To celebrate this historic occasion there will be a panel discussion on the RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN THE CIVIL RIGHTS MOVEMENT AND THE ANTI-APARTHEID STRUGGLE.  The panelists include:  Prof. Harold Rogers, Moderator, Dr. Rachel Rubin, UIC, Attorney Stan Willis, Prof. Johann Buis, Wheaton College and Nicole Lee, Executive Director of TRANSAFRICA.   On Friday, January 6th at 7:00pm Rev. Dr. Jeremiah Wright will lecture on the role of the Church in Africa. Rev. Wright's lecture is part of the kickoff weekend and we are honored to have him as part of the celebration.  There will also be worship services featuring South Africa on Sunday, January 8th at St. Sabina Catholic Church (8:30am), 1210 West 78th Place, Chicago, and TUCC (7:30am, 11:30am and 6pm).     We look forward to this exciting opportunity to put Africa front and center once again, and to rekindle support for South Africa’s model of peaceful change and promise of economic and social justice. Please join us for one or more of these free events – we hope to see you at the kickoff and encourage you to share this invitation with friends and colleagues. In solidarity, The Chicago-Midwest ANC Centenary Coordinating Committee   Chicago-Midwest ANC Centenary Coordinating Committee P.O. Box 497327 Chicago, IL 60649-7327 Email: anc.centenary@gmail.com Fax: 773-684-6967     www.chimidANC100.com

                                                                                            Trinity United Church of Christ

                                                                                            400 West 95th Street

                                                                                            Chicago, Illinois 60628

                                                         Service times: 7:30 a.m., 11:00 a.m., and 6:00 p.m.

                                                                                  

                                                                                            St. Sabina Catholic Church

                                                                                            1210 West 78th Place

                                                                                            Chicago, Illinois 60620

                                                                                            Service starts at 8:30 a.m.

Grades are in. Worked on them all weekend. The semester is over. Hhhhh...

This week has been chocked full of things to do. I have so many things to attend, so many obligations that it is clear to me what my New Year’s resolution will be. Breathe.

Friday night I went to a student’s graduation/wedding celebration. The student is a lovely young woman who will do great things. Though I was hosting a celebration at my own home on the same night, I had to show up and give my support to this student as she begins this new chapter in her life. I am glad I went. Her grandparents were this lovely couple that has been married since 1958. They shared stories, etc. with Kelly and I and it was a really wonderfully calm and enriching experience. Congrats to Renica Caston on her graduation and marriage!

Later that night... the ladies from TUCC’s Hurston Hughes Writers’ Group came through. Three of the ladies recently lost a loved one – very recently. We almost cancelled our annual celebration figuring no one would be in the mood for a celebration. However, we spoke about it and realized we are always in the mood for writing. The strange thing is, as a writer, when you enter the world through the writers’ way, all things look like a celebrationJ. The writer’s ultimate desire is to get beneath and all up in things to find organic matter, essence, and truth. Truth, even ugly truth, always lends itself to clarity, which causes celebration. And so, we got down in the dirt, climbed in graves and resurrected the essence of folks, then dusted and cleaned some stuff and prepared to use what we were able to salvage from the wrecks of life as tools for the rest of the journey. What an awesome gift!!!

Yesterday, Man... Kelly rushed out to early morning quality control checks at Black Star Saturday school sites. Then we met at the Chicago Council on Black Studies meeting. A few new folks were there and there is new programming in Black Studies at a couple of Chicago area colleges: Kennedy King, Harold Washington, Concordia... Kewl!  These are exciting introductions and we look forward to working with the Council and its individual and institutional members in the upcoming year! The foundation for solid and truly effective education starts with the knowledge of self!

Dag! I forgot to mention Karenga, the creator of Kwanza, and a premier Black Studies scholar who was at the DuSable Museum this week. He is always deep and refreshing and he did not disappoint. Note: Folks should really try to get out and support DuSable. They have great programming!

Back to yesterday...

After the meeting, we attended the Black Chicago History Forum at Woodson Library (9500 @ Halsted). Side note on Woodson:  this would have been Carter G. Woodson’s 136^th birthday – check out this link for more info http://www.asalh.org/WoodsonHome.html . Okay, so, the guest lecturer discussed his new book titled Muse in Bronzeville. Got it. Haven’t read it, but will soon.

Next... The Pre-Kwanza Festive at Chicago State University sponsored by WVON. It was much better than I expected. 1^st year... good turn out... lots of vendors with a wide range of products... food... fun... good event!

One of the greatest highlights of the day... Kelly spoke at the 2011 Colts Football League Banquet. One of his students is the director of the program, which is in the Roseland Community. Her husband runs the program. They are doing a great job over there and should be commended and supported by Black folks throughout Chicago. The banquet was free, had food prepared by Real Men Cook, was well attended, gave out trophies, plaques, and certificates of achievement, and was an enjoyable and inspiring event. Note: Of the three guys who coach the teams, one was once the coach of the other two (back in the day). You follow that?! Talk about mentorship and intergenerational giving back to the community... you have to love it!

Then to Chicken and Waffles down there off 39^th @ King Drive with our long lost buddies, Dr. Beaty and Dr. Watkins. Both ran Chicago Black Studies Programs but recently joined Howard University to work on a graduate Black Studies Program.   We met at our old favorite munching spot and were joined by graduates from CSU’s AFAM Studies Program. Get this. It blew me away. One of the graduates from last year’s class, Sir Reggie (as he has earned that title), PICKED UP THE TAB for the entire group! Students, professors, everybody! Dang, young fella! J

Finally, the last stop of the night, Dr. Watkins’ Annual Christmas Basement Party in Chicago’s South Shore area off ot 78th & Jeffrey.  This is a different Dr. Watkins from the one noted above. This one works at UIC. His latest work is worth a read: The Assault on Public Education: Confronting the Politics of Corporate School Reform. Every year he has a throw down bash for Christmas. Last night Hispanic folk, European folk, Black folk, Asian folks, young folk, old folk, any group you might imagine all danced to House music, James Brown, steppin' music (and tried to step). etc.  It was a scene I could have and should have taped for my Cultural Diversity class.  It used to be a straight up Black Studies folk thang.  In fact, one year while attending this annual bash and watching the good doctorate-holding Black Studies scholars shake their rumps and party hardy, I realized they were not so stiff and different than me and began to believe maybe I could join their ranks without sacrificing my soul and cultural habits and desires. It’s true!       

This is finals week!  Hallelujah!  Students get to demonstrate that they've mastered the course content and I get to work really hard with great expectation that mornings in bed late with steam rising from teacups and books - fiction books - and paper and pens and napkins with scribbly beginnings of short stories, and long conversations with kids that have gotten way too tall and beautiful and knowledgeable way too quick to be mine, and long afternoons on the couch with this large human snuggly called a husband, and visits from young and old, and music and food, and days that hug so tightly to nights that the two are indistinguishable, and maybe even a few yoga dates, might all be just around the corner.  Yeah, yeah, yeah.... (I'm singing the yeahs :-)! 

Meanwhile, my son was in the Chi. He made it to town to see us off then we made it back to hang out with him a bit before he had to leave. This guy is a man. I love and am very proud of him and all that he is. And now... my pride in and love for my son brings me to my losses.

For some reason the loss of my mother weighs heavier on me this year, this season, than it has in the past. Maybe because I was with my husband’s family, outside of the cocoon of my own folks, immersed back into the world I hadn’t realized I had distanced myself from. Maybe because I have never ever spent a major holiday away from my immediate family, because it was against my mother’s rules. Maybe because her birthday was November 25th.  I don’t know. I just know that I found myself in a battle to stuff in enough food and deliciousness to smush down tears and emotions, at least in public. I love emotions. I believe in crying and getting angry and being overjoyed and confused – all of it. It clears me of clutter and allows me to live freely. However, I admit I love it best when I can control it and decide when and where it should do what. LOL. Yep. Shameful, but true.

The other great loss I have to write about may seem a little strange, but it is real... it is about a pair of shoes. I have this great pair of comfortable shoes. I’ve owned the shoes for a while. I have done all I can to be fairly good to the shoes. I’ve had the caps replaced on the heels a million and nine times; I had a portion of the bottoms resoled; I’ve had them shined and nearly dyed and refurbished on almost every level... and now they are old, and I am running them raggedy. The poor things have a small hole in the sole, but that doesn’t stop me... I’ve tried to keep them off my feet, leave them at rest – pending disposal – but I just can’t bring myself to toss them. Well, this weekend our relationship and my abuse of these cute little shoes was almost exposed. Yes! In church this Sunday morning, 7 sum’n in the a.m., feeling good, my kids were there, my husband was there, the choir was on fire, and those uncontrollable emotions almost tripped me up. When folks were called up front for prayer my son rose from his seat and made his was towards the front of the church. Me, being the mom who loves him and wants to support my son in all he does, I hop up from my seat to follow him and I beckon my daughter to do the same. She reluctantly follows and my heart fills with joy – we are gonna pray together and my son is gonna be sent off on his long drive back to ATL covered in our petition for his safe keeping. Alright! A great way to wrap up the weekend! I get to the alter, locate my child, wait for my other child, grab their hands, drop my limber healthy body towards the floor – no one is behind us, there is space to relax and spread out... with my knees squarely beneath my torso I drop my head, stretch my feet back in all the open space, and suddenly I feel a slight sensation... it is the breeze of alter-kneeling-truth that quickly reminds me there is a small hole in my favorite, most comfortable  don’t-want-to-let-them-go shoes L. Dddaaagg! Now I can't even pray right.:-)  I can afford shoes! I have two thousand alternate pairs. But here I am breezey-booted! Lol! Kim, you have to stop it! I tucked my foot in a squat, looking and feeling crazy, cementing the hole in my sole to the carpeted floor, hoping not to misrepresent myself.  Man, if my mama would have seen that shoe like that! OMG! I’ve been searching high and low to find a replacement pair. Nothing compares. I should’ve added that to my prayer list! God send me a sign, a picture, a ghostly glimpse of the shape of this shoe boot in the window - any window in the world, so I can go get a replica and rid myself of this problem.  But, I didn't pray that, and it hasn't happened.  I guess I’m gonna take the shoes somewhere far from where it is easy to retrieve them and I’m gonna toss them... in an ocean, off a cliff, into a trash compactor... and I'm gonna do it soon, before the rain stops and I'm tempted to slip them on again yet one more last time .  (I can't wear them in the rain; my feet will get wet).

Pray with me people:  Lord help me, comfort and keep me AND my faithful shoes that deserve rest after having served me and their purpose so well. Hhhhhhhh...  Amen.  Amen.  And Amen.

 

Easy,

KDH

Friday night I went to see the movie J. Edgar.  It was not too good – I like Leonardo’s acting, but the story was incomplete. It barely gave attention to Hoover’s fixation with Black leaders who fought for justice for Black people – Marcus Garvey, Martin Luther King, Jr., The Black Panther Party… The movie focused more on building the idea that Hoover had a same sex lover. That point could have been made in one scene.  Who really cares about that?  The rest of the movie could have delved much deeper into the man’s personality and resultant actions - how he terrorized folks and thwarted efforts for equality.  That is what Hoover is known for - at least in my part of town.

 

I went straight from the theater to an all women’s Bible study. It was great to be in the place with women, calling on God, strengthening each other. Though I enjoyed the service, I left with a headache. At one point in the service a man who had been transformed into a woman gave testimony that once his children graduated high school, he decided to live for himself and do what God told him to do, which was to go all the way and become a woman. My daughter was in church with me. While I know God loves everyone, I took issue with the fact that the church asked this man to testify about his belief that God told him to change. God loves the man!! Absolutely! I love the man as a human being who is equally entitled to grace and blessing from OUR God. Yet, that is a separate issue than God telling him to correct his anatomy. In my mind, that is saying God made a mistake and asked for this man’s help so that he could become “who God intended him to be.” Listening to, and processing the man’s speech felt like a Dave Chappelle or Wayans brother skit. The man looked and sounded much like a man. Many in church yelled and screamed affirmations. It was very confusing and disturbing for me.   There are so many things I could say to explain myself, but I won’t. I am not God, so I’ll just say it was beyond my understanding, and I'll leave the rest to the person and God.  The man seemed like a nice person.  May God bless him as He does us all.

 

Saturday night I went to see Sinbad!! Oh, that’s a bad bruh! He was hilarious! See him when you get a chance. His relationship jokes/therapy is awesome! My cousins and I had a ladies night and we all could swear Sinbad had been investigating us, watching through our windows as he prepared his material.  Laughter is a beautiful thing!

 

Movie & Discussion: 

Pray the Devil Back to Hell is the gripping account of a group of brave and visionary women who demanded peace for Liberia, a nation torn to shreds by a decades-old civil war.  The women's historic yet unsung achievement finds voice in a narrative that intersperses contemporary interviews, archival images, and scenes of present-day Liberia together to recount the experiences and memories of the women who were instrumental in bringing lasting peace to their country.

 

Join us for a viewing and discussion of this extraordinary film ~

Pray the Devil Back to Hell

 

Tuesday Nov. 8, 2011 6:00pm
Chicago State University

Douglas Hall / Room 101              **FREE**

Hosted by the African American Studies Program and the African American Studies Student Association 

                                     

• Participate in the excavation in Luxor, Egypt
• Become a member of the 400 Club by making an annual tax-deductible contribution of $120
• Join an Ivan Van Sertima Cultural Circle or host a cultural salon in your community

The Squat Witch from Hell

Once upon a time there was a short, stout, tree-stump of a female who made the earth hollow out each time her hoof hit the highway. She wore fabric tightly wrapped around her top then belled out at the belly where beneath the fabric there was a kangaroo pouch full of pitch forks and globbed chicken fat. The female smiled with pointed spike-like teeth that harbored more pain than peace and pleasure. When the woman spoke, her words were sharp and cutting. She read some books, supposedly many books but there was never evidence of her having understood the words on the pages. Her language, her manners, and her general aura matched that of a 40+ year old who had been retained in the second grade for 30+ years, still attempting to master the basic concepts of respect and sharing. She was a hoarder of genetic belongings that were not hers alone. She stole a man’s time from his own child, then snickered in her corner of the world, pleased to know she was in control. Never mind the decay she caused the innocent little child.  This female is allergic to friendship and even family - the mere thought of either breaks her out in scales, oozy scabs, and makes her eyes pop and eyelids crack.

Many referred to the female as the “experiment” gone bad. Somewhere someone had the idea that if they let her into an institution of higher learning and granted her accolades that she evidently had not earned (according to her barbaric behavior, uncontrollable outbursts, and inability to articulate herself with more than varied-toned grunts and high-pitched two to three word outdated slang phrases) she could become a cultured, and civil, thoughtful woman. However, she remained ignorant and evil. There was no God in her eyes; as a matter of fact, Godliness was repelled from her by her incessant effort to be seen and regarded as Queen of the underworld.  She was relentless and with complete surety as she forged forward to her throne.  After all, who could stop her?  She had already campaigned and garnered a couple of other crowns: “Ruler of the horray-someone-loss-consciousness-for-a-brief-moment-and-made-a-baby-with-me Lost Ladies Land and I-never-had-and-won’t-ever-have-a-social-life World of Misery”.   Kind hearted folks bowed at their waist and kissed her thick painted hoof, hoping to heal her. And instead of it setting her free, instead of a calming affect where the wind and the clouds welcomed her and her burdens, she blocked her own flight with low self esteem, bitterness, and jealousy, and her bell-bottomed dress grew and stretched from the sidewalk of reality to the curb of insanity, and her kangaroo pouch drooped and dragged, entering life and extremities of space before her – always.

• It is only when the oppressed find the oppressor out and become involved in the organized struggle for their liberation that they begin to believe in themselves. 
• The educated individual is the adapted person, because she or he is better "fit" for the world.  Translated into practice, this concept is well suited to the purposes of the oppressors, whose tranquility rests on how well people fit the world the oppressors have created, and how little they question it.
• One cannot expect positive results from an educational or political action program which fails to respect the particular view of the world held by the people.  Such a program constitutes cultural invasion, good intentions notwithstanding.
• They are forms of action which exploit, directly or indirectly, one of the weak points of the oppressed: their basic insecurity.  The oppressed are insecure in their duality as beings which "house" the oppressor.  On the one hand, they resist her or him, on the other hand, at a certain stage in their relationship, they are attracted by him or her.  Under these circumstances, the oppressors easily obtain positive results from devisive action.
• One method of manipulation is to inoculate individuals with the bourgeois appetite for personal success.
• Cultural invasion... in this phenomenon, the invaders penetrate the cultural context of another group, in disrespect of the latter's potentialites; they impose their own view of the world upon those they invade and inhibit the creativity of the invaded by curbing their expression... All domination involves invasion - at times physical and overt, at times camouflaged, with the invader assuming the role of a helping friend.  In the last analysis, invasion is a form of economic and cultural domination.  Invasion may be practiced by a metropolitan society upon a dependent society, or it may be implicit in the domination of one class over another within the same society... Cultural conquest leads to the cultural inauthenticity of those who are invaded; they begin to respond to the values, the standards, and the goals of the invaders. 
• In cultural synthesis - and only cultural synthesis - it is possible to resolve the contradiction between the world view of the leaders and that of the people, to the enrichment of both.  Cultural synthesis does not deny the differences between two views; indeed, it is based on these differences.  It does deny the invasion of one by the other, but affirms the undeniable support each gives to the other.

 

Oh... my badddd... I didn't mean to remove the photos from elementary school.  Look at me now, oh! :-)

 

 

 

 

Okay, so again I have to mention that the girl to the right of me in the top photo is Mrs. Janet Wright-Moore, still one of my best friends to date!... fresher than a muuhhhh...  Yeah, and the teacher on the bottom photo, Mrs. Blair, was one of two of my favorite teachers.  She and my third grade teacher, Ms. Monroe changed my life - I'm sure of it.  Yay for good teachers!

 

Easy,

KDH