Notes on Black Politics Vol 2: How Obama Taught Me How to Hate Blacks

“Sometimes the acquisition of knowledge can destroy paradise” ~Professor X

Her name was Leanita McClain.

By all accounts, she was intelligent, upwardly mobile, beautiful and one helluva writer. She was the first Black person to sit on the Chicago Tribune editorial board and by any standards a very successful person. Indeed, she was a product and reward of the civil rights movement. I confess I never read her work back in the day, as in the early 80’s I was more into Star Wars than Chicago politics. I did get a chance to read and learn about her while studying the Harold Washington era, specifically the wins and loses attributed to it. I also wanted to learn why my late father used to look upon that time with detail and pride.

However, more than anything else Leanita McClain is best known for an op-ed piece she wrote entitled “How Chicago Taught Me To Hate Whites”. In this classic essay, Leanita McClain wrote about how the ugly racial polarization and attitudes of Chicago ’s whites toward the late Mayor Harold Washington in specific and Black People in general all but drove her to hate. She questioned her sanity and the sanity of whites, as well as the value of all she had obtained as a product of the civil rights movement. Leanita came to a devastating conclusion, one that never really changed but that she admittedly forgot. Leanita remembered than no matter what she was still a nigger albeit an educated, soft-spoken one. But, it was deeper than that for her. Leanita McClain often wrote of how she felt torn between her success and her people. She lamented how whites never really trusted her and Blacks never forgave her for her success. This complicated her angst, as she felt she had lost the love of her people for being successful; you know we have created the myth that in order to be truly Black, one has to be poor and in the muck with the people. This account touched me dearly. I remembered (during my transition to the man I am now) the many nights with tears in my eyes and confusion as Nickjack tried to explain to me that being successful would not null my commitment. In fact, it would increase it, as I would be truly pissing off the power structure by advancing, being successful AND Pro Black. The other narrative, she argued only affirmed white supremacy in as much as it kept us mediocre and low. I thought about Dan’s explaining wealth to me; showing me that we are the only people who didn’t understand wealth, power and politics. I also realized something else when I reflected upon Leanita McClain troubles and my growth.

Leanita McClain seemed to suffer from the mixed blessing that is “The Gift”, the ability to see the world without time. I doubt if she knew it, but she saw the upcoming battle of the new millennium, as Black people would still have to face American racism, and at the same time begin to question the concepts and notions of what Black is. This had to be hell for a product of the civil rights movement because Black in 1983 had a linear meaning and she defied that meaning. That is why this sorrow and guilt was always a central theme of her writing. This gift, can either take you to great heights, or drive you to unbelievable lows. I know, I have this gift and I am still trying to figure out where it is going to take me. Sadly, I know where it took Leanita.

On Tuesday, May 29, 1984, at the age of 32 Leanita McClain took her life.

This blog this is not about gifts, but rather politics and Black Life. I have come to a very scary conclusion and in some areas, it makes me wonder if I will wind up like Leanita McClain.

So why does Leanita McClain’s story touch me? It touches me because I understand. You see like her I have the gift, the ability to see the world without time and I realize that Black people are missing the boat on some thing major right now. I believe we are so afraid the possibility of winning that we are actively trying to sabotage our own success. We are in at a place in history where our community is going to change forever. What is this defining moment? In a name, it is Barack Obama.

If the Harold Washington campaign taught Leanita McClain to hate whites, then the Obama campaign is teaching me to hate Blacks. Yes, you read that correctly: The Obama Campaign is teaching me to hate Blacks. The curious thing is Obama is not saying anything to force me to be ashamed of myself, but rather our collective response is teaching me to be ashamed, making me ashamed and ultimately moving me towards hate.

From the Black Feminists who somehow think a southern pseudo conservative white woman has their interests at heart over a Black man, to the civil rights leaders do afraid of being obsolete, to the Black Elite who are afraid of their own, to the nationalist who are just plain hating, our response has not been were it should be. Every time I hear one of those darkies, pontificate on how Obama “doesn’t have experience” to “his drug (sic) usage” to “he doest talk about Black problems” I fucking throw up and damn near Black out (no pun intended). Every time I see some coon on TV screaming for Hilary, I go batballs crazy. Are we that fucking insane? Really?

Man if Obama were J ewish or Irish this would be a no brainer. Think I am lying, look at the State of Israel and Mayor Richard Daley. You don’t think J ews find problems with Israel ’s foreign policy worldwide. Hell yeah they do, but generally they don’t SHIT WHERE THEY EAT. You don’t think white Chicago is tired of Richie? Hell yeah, but it will be a COLD DAY IN HELL before they publically flog him and let another one of us in office. But then again this is why they have power and we crave it. They get the joke. We don’t.

Obama destroys notions and conventions that most sambos don’t get or wanna get. He is a threat to their comfort zone. Instead of understanding this, instead of supporting him and seeing where this goes they just hate. I mean like sickening kinda hate. Consider the following groups.

To the Black Elite, Obama breaks the rules. He is in their club, but didn’t have to sell their soul or whore out to do it. He learned the political game and made it work. He didn’t their money nor their ignorance. All he needed was Oprah, the mama of the Black Elite and he has made his shit work. He didn’t need to open a bunch of shitty theaters, marry outside his race, have a horrid TV network or any of that nonsense. He just did what he needed to do.

To the Civil Rights Leadership/Black Intellectual, he represents unemployment. They have milked the whole voice of the voiceless, dictionary to white folks, power broker routine to the point of in effectiveness. They have no new solutions and no new ideas. Hell, they don’t even have new problems. Its just a bunch of tired negroes who’d rather be an overseer on a Clinton plantation than retire on an Obama oasis. Seriously, why would Obama need these tired negroes? Translate what for whom? He comes from the activist community. He’s been in the muck. Oh wait I forgot, that don’t count because he’s not a preacher. He didn’t “mawch wif dawtar king” He doesn’t talk about “white supremacy as it relates to the underclass and the destruction of ancient Kemit in the lowe nile valley”. He doesn’t give “uh duh” speeches. Pffft. No these dudes don’t wanna have to file for unemployment and would rather kill our next level of existence than accept the change. Fun fact people: He is a politician first, an activist second and he is working the political scene not the activist scene

To the Black Middle Class, Obama answers the question that killed Leanita McClain: Can on be upwardly mobile, successful and still connected to your people? Hell yeah! He is upwardly mobile and still connected. He didn’t forget. He married a Black woman with hoodish tendencies. His daughters are Black. Yet, he aint poor and he aint trying to be poor. To the Black Middle class he’s a critique: You can be successful and connected.

To the lower classes, Obama means no more excuses. Nobody is gonna wanna hear shit about the man, racism, white supremacy, no fathers etc (and these problems are VERY real). Every brother or sister who doesn’t do the damn thing will hear “it didn’t stop Obama”. In short, we are gonna have to figure out new ways to resolve our inequities without pointing to the man. Nobody is hearing that and to keep shouting it is like yelling in the wind. Obama is forcing us to address things differently.

This past week I taught a class on politics and culture at a Chicago High School . In this, I told them the final lesson was adaptation and survival. While this may be a scary process, it is an essential process.

So what are we going to do? Are we going to seize this time, adapt and survive? Or are we gonna continue to try to recreate the tired battles of the sixties, that really cant be re-fought in 2008.

What are we prepared to do? That question remains.

I asked earlier if would I end up like Leanita McClain. This shit IS depressing. It is stressful and I am the same age as she when she lost. Is this Melodramatics on my part? Perhaps, as I don’t think I’ll die. I DO have hate in my heart.

I hate my people for not doing what needs to be done.

This is Straight, No Chaser.

TLT

PS: For more information on Leanita McClain check out this site and excellent tribute:

http://www.blacknla.com/news/Articles/VHNightLite.asp

To read her classic essay "How Chicago Taught Me to Hate Whites" go here:

http://condor.depaul.edu/~chicago/primary_sources/LMcclain.html

Notes On Black Politics Vol 1: Morals and Power

What are you prepared to do? ~Jim Malone

One of my favorite movies of all time is The Untouchables. Now unless you've been living under a rock, and totally devoid of any popular culture sense, then you know the premise of this movie as it revolves around Elliot Ness's campaign to capture Al Capone and tell how both sides fight to ensure their agendas reign supreme.

Perhaps, though the most significant line of the movie is when Malone (Connery) tried of Ness (Costner) pontification and moral tirades simply asks "what are you prepared to do".
What are you prepared to do? It's a simple question but one whose answers have a wide range of implications.

You see, as the Prime Minister of a sect of Black Studies here in Chicago, I have come to realize that we are losing because we never really asked ourselves what are we prepared to do. We never asked ourselves how are would we go and what are the wins and loses. I think we got so tied up into moral arguments and doing what's right and honor that we actually handicapped ourselves. I don't think any groups of Black folks at any time really have asked tried to answer this question.

Consider: Did slaves truly know what freedom meant? Did they understand that they now had to create an economy for themselves and set up other social networks to survive? Or was freedom simply to them the ability to come and go, live and love as they pleased?

Consider: Did the civil rights activists consider what happens at integration? Or was it simply the goal to be able to choose where they could take a shit. Did they ponder what integration meant?

Consider: Did the Panthers and other Black Power advocates really understand what revolution was? Did they really think that the power structure wouldn't fight back? Or did they just do what needed to be done?

Consider: Did we at OH do all that we could to protect the Emperor and our institution? Did we consider the implications of our actions? Did we really do everything we should have done? Or did we assume that people would support us because we are right, good and true?

Resolved: We did not do everything we could have done. Like Ness, we were more concerned with doing what is right, than doing what we had to do to win. We were so afraid of being like "them" that we became inept, weak and stagnant. We played fair. They played to win.
And it looks like they did.

Politics and war have nothing to do with right or wrong. Those things depend on ones point of view. No these entities have everything to do with power. One group has it. The other covets it.

What is one willing to do to get it?

This new battle is a test ground for my theory. I believe we have so been oppressed that we can't fathom playing to win. No we need for somebody, some force to help us win: be it god, the moral code of our enemy, the white man, a savior, a leader etc. The other thing is when we do fight it's with the goal of looking good while losing. The church calls that fighting the good fight. We hope that in our "sacrifice", our defeat others rally to the cause: martyrdom I believe it's called.

That's a flawed concept though. I mean people like the underdogs for a time, provided they can pull out a win here and there. But constant defeats, for whatever reason, make you a loser.

Nobody likes a loser.

I am not really interested in fighting the good fight. Those fights, by design, always end in defeat. It can be nothing else. It's based in the Christian ethos, i.e. suffer for the cause.
Naw, I'm interested in fighting to win. Suffering for the cause is over rated.

We need to look at this shit like a chess game. All the pieces matter and nobody except the king are more valuable than the next. We all are expendable. I submit we should have been playing people and situations to our benefit.

The game is about power, not morals. Once you acquire power you can dictate the morals.

Think I'm lying. Ask the Jedi.

They understood Morals; the Sith understood power. The results: one helluva ass kicking.

Put it another way: less Dr. King, more Marlo Stanfield.

Malone, I realize what I am prepared to do.

And that is Straight, No Chaser.
TLT

1-29-2008

2:15pm

Happy Founders Day Zeta Phi Beta 2008!

Faith, Hope and Love. And the greatest of these is love ~Apostle Paul

I opened the Friday (1-11) Chicago Sun Times business section and I read something that I found humorous and at the same time utterly disturbing. It seems that Mattel and Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority Inc (AKA) in all of their infinite wisdom opted to create a Barbie doll to commemorate AKA’s centennial.

A Barbie doll. For the AKAs. Sweet Jesus. First it’s Hilary, now Barbie? It seems AKA has a white woman fetish that would make Uncle Ruckus blush.

The jokes write themselves. Never have truer words been spoken to me.

Outside of the problematic of this probably going to be AKA’s only real contribution to the world, (well outside of the formation of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority Inc.) I can just see this slightly darkened Barbie model, devoid of any African features and dressed in white girl clothes being sold as some kind of milestone in Black America. I mean you think that they would launch an Obama doll or hell even a Condie Rice doll, but instead we get AKA doll. You have to wonder what board member of AKA who works at Mattel (or what Mattel Board member who is an AKA) thought that this would be a good idea.

Somebody should have told them that everything that looks good on paper isn’t good in real life. Some stuff needs to remain a dream, thought only during your darkest moments and said in confessionals. This idea was one of them.

While I was reading this article and sighing in disgust, a friend of mine told me “You just mad Mattel would never invest in a doll of for Zeta”. I sat back and thought. When you’re right you’re right. I nodded in agreement and said “Yeah. But Zetas wouldn’t allow that. They are better than that.” I don’t think Mattel would fancy having to make a true doll that represents Black women, with hips, lips, asses, and breasts. I don’t think they would fancy having to make one with natural hair.

But more importantly, dolls like the color pink, is for girls.

Women, specifically Finer Women engage in ideas and activities far deeper than being made into dolls.

Happy Founders Day to my lovely Sorors of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority Inc.

88 years in the game. Jesus, each year it gets better. There were some scares in ’07. But like soldiers and finer women that you are, you pulled through. In personal life and in business Zeta shined brightly. As I continue to heal and understand Sigma, it is your love, like the love of a mother, sister and wife that keeps me close to the table of Blue, and makes sure the dove always stays near and dear to may heart. I pray that this love continues to grow and develop for many years to come.

This blog is dedicated to you, to express in the strongest terms possible that I love you and my loyalty and oath is as real today as it was on that early April morning in 2002. It’s no secret to anybody who knows me that my relationship with my frat brothers has been iffy (but I admit its getting much better), yet my relationship with my Sorors (outliers notwithstanding) has been phenomenal. Throughout my various ups and downs, Sorors have been the constant support and it has been the Sorors who have helped me through it all. It was a Soror by my side during the era of Nicole (my pledge mom), it was a Soror who called me nightly to make sure I didn’t snap at the beginning of the long night (Lillet), it was a Soror who helped bring me out of that mess and pressed me to strive harder (Nickia) and it was recently a Soror who showed me how to get my career back on track (Noelle). These are just a few examples as to why I feel I need to state publically what Zeta Phi Beta Sorority Inc.means to me.

Sorors this dedication is for you.

To the fallen soldiers of Zeta, like my friend Lisa Ray, you will be missed. Please look after my father, as he is prone to get into stuff all the time. I’m sure heaven has a play ground and he will be there. Keep him out of trouble as you kept me out of trouble.

To the insight full Sorors like Amber and Joy: I appreciate your words and you thoughts. I thank you for helping me walk away from drama when I clearly was missing a sign or too. Thank you. Amber I wish you and Mark many more years of happiness and Joy, you’ve only just begun.

To the chat Sorors: I know I irk yall, but there have been many nights when our conversations and fights helped turn my evening from a boring mess to one that made me think, laugh and even cry sometimes. Ok not cry, but definitely think and laugh.

To my former Padawan Katina: The game has changed for you, as you now have a responsibility bigger than Zeta or your needs. You are now directly responsible for the life of another human being. I pray you keep this in mind always.

To my attorney Lillet: We don’t talk like we used to, and truth be told we don’t need to. Our bond is a genuine as a brother and sister can get. I appreciate you coming to get me in DC. I appreciate you making sure the love was there when pops died, and I appreciate your constant encouragement. This year was rough for you, but do know it only gets better.

To Rev. Dr. BJM: I get it. Before you proclaim everything under the sun to and for a person make sure you know a person. Really know a person. Really know a person. I also will never allow anything to fester that long that it infects me or the people around me.

To my Soror Cretia: My arrogance was my undoing. I appreciated the critique and I understand. My loyalty to these transcends all personal responsibilities. Yeah, I’m coming back better.

To my Cali Sorors: It’s been a minute since we’ve spoken, but do know the love is still there. I aint forgot. I never will forget. I am phone call, email, or text away. Believe that.

To my Tau Psi Zeta Sorors: I have never forgotten Dec. 22 2006, and I never will. If there is one group of Zetas who got a lil more suction than the Cali Sorors is yall. Anytime, anyplace, anywhere, just call email and text and I will be there.

To my Dear Sister AJ: You know I’ll be there front and center when you and Ben take that walk. I will be there laughing and crying, happy because we talked about this day for both of us for so long. Do you really think ATL will be able to handle us? I didn’t think so either.

To my new Soror Noelle: My minister of the interior, a good friend who helped make the end of 07 on point, and helped get ’08 off to a good start. I have come to appreciate your quirks, candor, dedication to this bond and to education. I appreciate your help in getting me in the right circles, and I damn sure appreciate your countless nights given up listening to me babble on in pseudo drunk tirades about her, Obama, the frat or anything else. I am glad to have you as my friend, confidant and mentor. We gone do big things in 08.

To the Greatest Zeta of them all Nickia: What can I say that hasn’t been said a million times in a million different places. By now the world knows you saved me. By now the world knows the comeback missions were originally implemented as a means to win you back. Everybody knows that you trump 95% of the population. Everybody knows. But in the past year, you have gone from being a goal to a true friend. You have gone from being someone I desire to someone I understand, respect, and adore. I am your biggest fan and your biggest headache. Indeed, it seems we didn’t have an exit strategy after all. Thank you for all that you have done and continue to do.

To my Sorors world wide, on this day represent and do that damn thing. After 88 years in the game, I think you’ve earned the right to. Indeed, I have faith that the next 88 years will be just as good as the first, hope our bonds will continue to grow, and I will continue to love you all through the entire journey.

Oh, back to the doll. I was gonna order it just to laugh at it one day years from now. But after writing this, I think I’ll pass.

Why do I need a shitty doll? I got the greatest bond a brother could ask for.

And that is

Straight, No Chaser

TLT

1-16-2008

THE Relationship Hierarchy for Black Folks by Terrance L.

THE Relationship Hierarchy for Black Folks by Terrance L.

WIFE (S1) - This is the top spot. What we all strive to have and maintain. There are no pretenses here. A bond that has been cemented before God, Family and Country, this is not to be played with. This sister is THE power behind you, your rib, your lover, your friend. Screw up and she makes you life difficult. Do right and you get a woman that will die for you.

FIANCE'(S2) -The penultimate step before ascension. If marriage is the championship, then this is the finals. The only thing standing in her way to the throne is a damn good plan and a nice summer day.

WIFEY (S3)- The sister you have been in a committed relationship with for sometime and have come to love, trust and respect. There is no fairy tale at this stage. You know the ends and out and in all probability yall already shacking. Your SSN? She knows it. Your atm code? She knows it too. Guess what she’s read your nonsense on BP too. Just be warned. The only thing keeping her from the fiance spot is a nice piece of jewelry and your lack of courage. Consider this the conference championships.

WOMAN (S4) -Welcome to the playoffs. This is the beginning of the title run. This happens when a) pressure is applied by the right hand to make her official thereby matching her pay to the work she doing or b) pressure from your mama to stop playing around. At any rate the commitment is official. While small time, things start to heat up at this stage and you are one weekend visit from having a wifey. Like the playoffs is really win or go home.

RIGHT HAND/EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT (S5)-C'mon fellaz we know who this sista is. She’s the one always on our arm, handling our day to day. She’s at all the barbecue’s. You hitting it raw. She can use your phone. I mean she’s the workhorse. Only problem is yall aint never made it official, so you (and she) can still do what you want to the ire of the other person. (It’s usually when one of the parties will then try to lock the contract down). This stage is critical because during this time you will decide is she will make the playoffs or get to rebuild her team next year under a different GM. BTW: Remember that threesome she DIDN’T give you? Didn’t that factor in your discussion to promote her? ;-)

JUMP OFF (S6)- Similar to the Right hand, this sister is usually by your side for only the fun shiet. The serious stuff in your life is not her concern. But when the drinks is flowing, when the parties jumping she will be there. However, due to the lack of balance there is little or no chance of yall being serious. The up side is that she’ll probably give you that threesome with her girl. At this point, yall just having a good time until the right hand or woman ends this dynamic. This is like being the Atlanta Braves. Damn good during the season but rarely gets it done.

MAIN (S7)-For those of you dating multiple folks, this is the one that keeps rising to the top. This stage is tricky because she can either go to the dead end zone of jump off or become the more maneuverable right hand. This all depends on how you guys interact. Yup this is the second half of the regular season.

BETTIES/CHICKS/OLE GIRL(S8)-This is the first half of the regular season. The sister you just meet and got a lil going for herself. It is during this stage you will decide if she’s going to have a strong second half and make the run for the post season or by midseason she’ll be trade for a draft pick, some cash and a minor league player to be named later.

BUST DOWNS AND CHICKEN HEADS(S9) -These are teams that just want to fill the stadiums without improving the teams. (Think Cubs before this season). Good for only good sex with you and your boys, you know for a fact they’ll be out of the running three weeks into the season.

ROOKIES (S10) - Welcome to the game youngling. These are the sisters who are 18-22, just leaving for college and entering the league. How we treat them at this stage, coupled with their home training will determine where they land. Fellaz do your rookies right. (Take that however you want to.)

Straight, No Chaser
TLT
11-01-2007
1:15am

The Question

This is me right here ~Wallace, from Season 1 of the Wire.

It had been a long time since I sat across from my mentor getting the look of bewilderment. I tried not to look at her as I ate my salad. However, I know her and know she is going to bemoan the point.

“So Mr. Thomas, why the change”

“In?” I respond trying to be coy

Ms. M tips her head slightly, “don’t be smart Mr. Thomas. I’ve trained you since high school. You know what I am talking about.”

I laugh. She is referring to the polemic emotions I have had for the past six months or so about walking away from Black Studies. At the end of last year, I had opted to make this my last run, get one more platinum plaque and move on. However, less than two months into 07, I am a man divided, walking a line between what I love and what is lucrative.

I take a deep breath and answer her question. “I don’t see what I’ve gained from Black Studies. I don’t see how it will benefit me or my sons.”

She looks at me, as she has always done loving but also with a sense of disappointment.

“How so?” she asks in a voice so calm, yet so serious.

“I just look around and I see folks with careers, homes, making it. Then I look at me and I’m struggling. I just see too many contradictions…”

She cuts me off before I can finish. “Contradictions are a part of the human life the presence of a contradiction doesn’t make you any less truthful or honorable.” She eats some more of her steak. “You know what it sounds like to me?”

“No what?” I ask, afraid because I know she is not to be messed with. Even though DM was one of my earliest teachers, she remains without question one of my best.

“It sounds like to me you making your people suffer because you made piss poor decisions.” I drop my head as I knew she was going to say that, but I was unable to stop it.

She continues. “You put the pursuit of a family, with a woman you were warned about no less, ahead of your career. Now because you’re not where you feel you should be professionally or educationally you want to throw a tantrum? That is not sound judgment Mr. Thomas.”

I take a sip of my lemonade. I struggle to respond to a charge I know in my heart is true as the day is long. “There is no money in Black Studies. I have children.” I offer as my next reason.

Without looking up from her plate she responds “And there is money as an English teacher?” She laughs loudly. Again, you need to ask yourself is that the fault of the discipline or you living above your means all these years. None of the elders ever tried to tell you about money and credit?”

I sat back and looked at her. I love this woman, because she’s good and she cares.

“Ms. M, I wasn’t prepared for this summer. I was like a fish out of water.”

“And do you think they selected you because you were a part of the pact or because you didn’t think like the norm. You had your head up your behind, worried bout everything other than your job. Those difficulties weren’t due to Black Studies. It was because you didn’t focus. Now the dress code and the office politics was something everybody had to learn. But you had the ability.”

“Mr. Thomas”, she continues in a voice so tender and stern, “I don’t know how you arrived at the decision to switch disciplines, but I am afraid to say the decision you’ve come to is not only wrong, its unfair. You are basing your happiness, or potential happiness of the acquisition of material goods. What did I tell you when you graduated from Olive Harvey?”

“Never sacrifice Black truth for white lies”

“And that is exactly what you’d be doing. You are turning your back on the very thing that got you to where you are. It got you to the dance, as you like to say. You kept walking in and out the party. Nobody is saying money isn’t important. Nobody is saying be poor. What I am saying is maintain your integrity in this matter. Folks are looking at you to carry on a legacy. Anybody can get paid, but not anybody can be asked to build an institution.”

I sat there silently, letting her words sink in. Our waiter comes over and asks do we need anything else. Ms. M looks at me and says “Mr. Thomas, will have a vodka and light cranberry, slightly chilled, and I’ll take the check.” As the waiter comes with both the drink and the bill Ms. M says “I have to get home to my husband. But you drink that and think it over. Tomorrow call me and tell me what you decided.” I get up to hug her. In my ear she whispers, “Never sacrifice…” trailing off expecting me to finish the statement: “Black truth for white lies”

We part. I sit down and sip my vodka. I think. After a few minutes I get up and go home.

When I arrive home, I go into my basement and look at my library. I look at my collection of pictures, movies, photos. Damn, Black Studies is in my soul. I even pull a couple of books to look over. Indeed this shit has been good to me, probably better than I have treated it.

I come upstairs and sit at my computer. I pull up the fiscal projections for the MPA, an old friend gave me. I am so confused. So I say a prayer asking Jehovah to guide my decision and bless my thought process. I turn off my computer and go to bed with the understanding of how I feel when I wake up will be my official and final policy regarding this matter.

The next morning I wake up and get dressed to meet with an old friend and colleague Red. We head over to the Pizza Hut in Hyde Park to talk about her wedding and my graduate school plans. I get quiet while she goes on about how excited she is, and she notices it.

“What’s wrong T?” she asks.

“Red, be honest with me. Would the Olive Harvey program continue without me in the game?”

Red looks at me and shakes her head “Of course. It would. Mr. Allen made sure of that. But it would go so much easier with you there.” Then she makes a face and says “that’s not true. The rest of us would take it out of loyalty, we wouldn’t necessarily want to. Everybody else has found their career niches. You want the academy. You are the heir apparent.”

I sip my beer, and ask “What about you or Dre?”

“Again, we would do it out of love for Mr. Allen. But we’ve got our missions. So it wouldn’t be a task we would seek. We would work for it, but you want it.”

I nodded, taking it all in.

“T haven’t you noticed that your energy drives the crew? We follow your lead.”

I laugh. “Dre told me that in so many words a few weeks ago”

“And he’s right,” she says. It would continue, but you’d make shit a lot easier. Besides T you’re the theoretical man. You bothered to learn Mr. Allen’s style. But you’re also practical, I mean before you plugged with us you came from the activist tradition. I mean your email was nkruma at hotmail”

I sit back and listen taking it all in.

She continued on: “I know it seems like it’s been slow moving, but it’s your time. I promise you this.” Red sits back and then smirks at me. “I know why you changed. You thought it would make shit different. I assure you it didn’t. People have always respected your consistency, the fact that we knew what to expect. This MPA shit aint you. It’s an illusion to make people accept you. But I think if you went back to being true to yourself, you’d get what you want. And anybody else who cant deal with it or handle it, then fuck em. That’s the T I know and love like a brother. So right now, ask yourself: Who are you?” She looks up from her pizza with one eyebrow raised, as I sit back nodding.

“Who am I?” finally getting the message?

Red smiles, because she knows I understand.

“I AM Black Studies Bitches!”

That is the fundamental truth. Despite it all I am organically Black Studies. I was born and raised in the discipline. I slept, eat and shit my discipline. The way Tiger Woods practices golf, the way Kobe Bryant practices basketball is the way I practice Black Studies. I truly love what I do.

I also realize that any set backs or problems I have encountered within the discipline can best be summoned up in a lament and reflection by Malcolm X: “only the mistakes have been mine”. I didn’t apply myself; I allowed other things from Sigma to Nicole to cause me to lose focus. I simply didn’t get it done. And Red was right, when I did get my title shot I was more concerned by getting her back to the table than making it do what it do. My challenges this summer with the state was not due to an inadequate discipline but rather a nigga not on his game.

Bottom line is this: This discipline and my family therein have been good to me. They had helped shape me into the man I am. Even if I switched and thrived in an MPA setting it would be off of the foundation laid by Black Studies. I can not escape who I am. Economically speaking, it’s not the most lucrative and it has to figure out a way to get back to the streets, but then again its’ not the role of the discipline to help me be a millionaire. I need to stay consistent in balancing my own budget and finances. Flaws and all this is my home. I will not sell it out just to be a part of a middle class who I already believe has forgotten the struggle that go them here.

Most important, I am primed to inherit a legacy, a foundation and to shape that into whatever vision I see fit. Anybody can earn a few dollars, not anybody can shape an institution. I’m sure my decision will elate some and disappoint others. Either way I can’t be concerned. I can only do what I am trained and entrusted to do. Who am I?

When I get home from lunch, I sit down at my computer and pull up the projections I was given. I smile, and reflect on the kindness of such an act. However this projection isn’t the truth. So I delete it. I purge all copies from my computer. I discard the MPA folder I have collected from other schools and replace them with PhD programs from around the country. I pick up the phone and call Ms. M. When she answers the phone I simply say. “I AM Black Studies”. (Of course I didn’t dare say bitch to her!) Finally, I feel at peace at peace about the matter. In all things one must be true to thy self.

And the truth of the matter is this:

I AM Black Studies Bitches!

And that is Straight, No Chaser

TLT

4-3-2007

3:45pm

All in the Game

“All in the Game, Baby!” ~West Baltimore saying

So while I was finally perfecting my recipe for a peanut butter shake (HA! I did it to all you west coast folks who said I’d never do it; I got some fried potatoes to jack next) I was talking on my the phone to my ship about my averting the latest emotional disaster that seems to be the standard in my relationship with the female species. While I was praising myself for not getting involved in an emotional Vietnam again, and keeping things under control, my ship (in his infinite wisdom) made the point that I am usually in this situation because I don’t have what he termed “Ground Rules”. To be exact, he compared my dating style to the Black Studies program at my old school, an open invite with no minimum expectations. He felt that I give any and every chick a shot, regardless of looks, sanity, or compatibility issues because I like the challenge of “molding them” and since I know a lot of them aren’t going to work anyway, I feel no guilt when I kill the dynamic. I listened as I finished my creation; while I was testing it two things became very clear to me:

1) This damn shake is on point.

2) He’s fucking right.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying I will fuck any ole crack head. I am not saying that the old 78 yr old chick is finna get some T penis. What I am saying is that most times all a chick gotta do is show some loyalty to my “company”, suck some good penis and well that’s it really. Rarely do I get to know them or they me. As for the ones who do get close, I realize after they got close that this shit aint going to work and I need to get out. But then I just don’t get out. I come up with more excuses than Bush in Iraq and the next thing you know I got drama. This shit was fun in my 20’s, but as I approach 32, and the possibility of a wife becomes a reality, then I need to make some serious changes. Actually, I’ve made a lot of changes. I don’t do intentionally seek quagmires anymore. I don’t allow drama to invade my space and place. BUT somehow it still finds itself there and I think it does lie in my absence of “Ground Rules”.

But I think that’s men in general actually. After we got off the phone I logged on the computer and went to this popular dating site. I compared about 100 profiles each. You know what I discovered? Women are much more thorough than men. Our profiles (mostly) say shit like “I’m looking for a special lady”. We’ll list physical qualifications and say shit like “no drama”. No wonder we pick bottom of the barrel chicks that disguise themselves as top notch. Sheesh. But the women’s profiles were more accurate than a PhD dissertation. I mean they were clear. “No kids”, “No students” “No big dudes” etc. They outlined various intangible characteristics. Some even got rude if you contacted them. For example I sent a message to this sister who clearly said “NO kids”. I just said Hi. She said thank you, and appreciated my note but she asked for no kids and since I can’t follow directions she was blocking me. I laughed. But it made me think. Women have ground rules before, during, and after a relationship. We just go along and make up shit as things progress. That is so not good. Well after damn near falling into a diabetic coma from the shake I had a realization. I do have ground rules. I just don’t enforce them. So as of this moment, March 4, 2007 at 10:08pm I am enforcing my rules and shall not deviate from them as much as humanly possible. Here are the commandments for dating, keepings and loving me.

(Please be advised that at this time I aint taking apps, but I felt for information purposes you should know.)

The Ten Terrance Commandments

10) I am not trying to play daddy to your children. I have my own sons to rear and I have no interest within the first 20 dates of meeting, talking to, looking at, hearing about, or otherwise being forced to take care of “Leroy’s” responsibilities. While things can and do happen and I may be in contact with them early, please don’t expect me to laugh, joke, pick up, hold, or otherwise play daddy. Likewise, I will not do the aforementioned actions. Should we get that far and grow into something more, we will then work out a program along practical lines to facilitate some form of relationship that includes how we handle the children. However, your kids remain your responsibility as my sons are mine. The only thing we are obligated to do in regards to the others children is not beat them or cuss them. The only thing the children are obligated to do is respect us as an adults.

9) Fuck what you heard but looks do matter. Next to the devil convincing the world he doesn’t, this is the biggest lie man kind has been told. While beauty is in the eye of the beholder, some niggaz is just bumblefuck ugly. Sorry. Nothing you can say will alter this opinion. I have certain tastes. I only date women who are African American, African, or from the Diaspora; I don’t want a white chick, a mami, a Chinese lover, or any of that. I love my sisters. I like petite women with apple shaped asses, six packs and perky breasts. OR, I like them with small hips and nice asses. I love glasses and skin color. I like short hair, or if you got hair make sure it is done. Don’t care what style. I DO NOT like “PHAT”, “BBW”, “thick in all the right places”, or any variation therein. I also realize the irony of myself being a big dude and preferring petite women. THAT’S MY CHOICE. It is my sincerest belief that a smaller woman will motivate me to lose weight. In fact that has happened once, where I dropped almost 100 lbs, esp. when I learned that being a fat ass is only cool in the south and Midwest (which is the same thing to me). And I assure you there are women who fit this mode who like men my size, just like some lil man wants a big woman and so on. While I am on the subject of looks, I also like my women to look and act like, well women. Smell nice, wear make up, and put on some thongs. I tired quickly of jeans, stretch pants, and frumpy dress. I’m sorry but if you can’t look the part, then I wont be convinced you washing the part either. Ok enough of that. I know somebody’s gonna take offense or give me the block my blessings speech, but you can save it. I’m willing chance a blessing blocking in order to get what I want.

8) You need to be college educated or at the very least, past your sophomore year in college. In fact before I got off my ass and finished, I had this as a rule. It was probably the one rule I enforced, until I allowed some chick to talk me out of it. Why this rule you may ask? Well because there is a certain conversation, socialization, and ambition that comes from educated women that is clearly different from chicks that are not. I like a woman who can think big and envision herself on Wall Street or in the academy or a senator or some shit. I have no further desire for chicks whose SOLE ambition is to be the best nail tech, cashier, hustler, pimpstess, pretty mama, or dick rider respectively. That might impress Duqwan offa the corner but for me I’ll pass. I mean in the next 3 to 4 yrs I’ll have my PhD. What would I look like dating the chick who took my order at Harold’s on 83^rd? I also need for you to learn how to speak like an adult, not a BET VJ or the chick offa Hot 92.3. While I am a proud citizen of Negriona, I have since migrated to Afrolantia. I am no longer keen on hearing “papi” “you give me jokes” “namean” “word” “dune” “shits” “bling” or any of that. Learn to talk good ole engrish please. If I desire to relive my hood days or live out my Wire fantasies, I will simply either call one of my BFL brothers or go hang out with my street gang that pretends it’s a fraternity.

7) You have to believe in a God and at least try to actively practice something. If I can get up and say a prayer you can too. I also want to make it know that your belief is your belief. For the record I am a believer in the Jehovah’s Witness doctrine; if I were not that I’d be a Buddhist for certain. Please don’t don’t try to force Pastor Paulie’s views on me. If I wanna learn bout what Pastor Lonnie Love said I’ll go to his sports stadium church and be entertained. I don’t need your help. Conversely I won’t leave watchtowers lying around the bathroom ok? You know now that I think about it I don’t want another woman who is CME (Christmas, Mother’s Day and Easter) or Baptist. Wait, that’s actually the same thing. Without question yall are the most ignant, pastor loving, giving your money too, and non bible reading women in North America.)

6) We have to be sexually compatible. No more chicks that only know doggystyle or just getting their pussy ate. That shit is only hot in a lil kim video. I am a freak. I like licking, and sticking, and all that good stuff. You HAVE to want to give and receive oral sex. Women who don’t suck dick are destined to be either lonely or like dinosaurs. Work out whatever issues you have because if your sex drive and skills aint up YOU’RE DONE!

5) Please make sure your canon (history for the slow people) is accurate and concise cause I am going to check you out. If you say you were a stripper, you should be able to back that up. If you say you sold drugs, tell me some tales. If you say you once were a ninja show me some moves. I can back up my past. You will know who the fuck I am. The only people with foggy pasts are nut jobs and CIA agents.

4) Please keep your family in check. I’m going to be fair here. My mother is my chief advisor and best friend. HOWEVER, SHE DOES NOT DRAW POLICY. If you cant keep your mama, daddy, cousin, bitter sister, brother etc from actively being our business I will dismiss you. I have no desire to entertain your family or defend myself again them. That shit went out a year or so ago. In this same breathe please keep your whorish, lonely single friends out of our business; and definitely tell them to stop with the invites to single events and or hating on what we have. This will also get you dumped and your girlfriend slapped. HARD.

3) While I am not married to the old school per se, I do see value in it. To wit I open doors, fix shit, fight off hooligans, and pay the occasional bill. However, I am also flexible enough to cook, rub your feet, wash your hair etc. But I am not going to accept in any way shape form or fashion a nagging ass woman who got to be always right; loud and obtuse, and likes to just plain cut off a man’s balls. Angry, smart mouth nagging chicks are lonely chicks. It is not natural for a woman to nag a man. I aint saying I get to slap you, or you cant speak your peace. I am saying though you just aint gonna talk to me like that. If you gotta do all that naggin to change me or cause you unhappy then you need to take your ass home. Nagging, liberated women are usually single, bitter women. While I’m on the subject of naggin women, let me bring up my other bane: spoiled ass women. No you don’t get your way all the time. I don’t care how daddy did it, or your ex who was a football player, or dude who was a baller that got you whatever you wanted. I don’t care what you’re used to. We are dating now. You need to work within this paradigm. What’s that you say? You’re independent? Ok that’s great. Now get your independent ass away from me QUESTION?

2) Please have in your life that which you are demanding of me. If you are demanding that I have my own place, car, career, etc then make sure you have it too. I you come to me on some “do better” shit and YOU living with mama, I’m clown. When women do that, it makes us men think you are only after us for money or to rescue you. I am not doing either. So ask yourself this question: Do I have what I am about to ask him to have or acquire? If the answer is no, then shut up and enjoy the meal.

1) I don’t do clingy, emotionally dependant, co-dependant or any various therein. I am finally drama free. Perhaps in my twenties (ok I’m lying this past summer) I would have enjoyed the roller coaster. But as I approach mid thirties, I am not interested. If you got drama, issues, beefs, etc please don’t bring them to me. It took me far to long to get this shit right and you aint gonna mess it up. I don’t mind drama that comes from time and being a couple; however I will not start off sorting through your bull. I can refer you to a great therapist and decent out patience clinic.

I know this is going to come off offensive to some and arrogant to others, But I’m sorry. After years of getting it work, I need to set shit in order to get it right…

After all who is gonna take care of me but me?

Nobody

And that is Straight, No Chaser

TLT

3-4-2007

10:08pm

Happy Founders Day Zeta Phi Beta!

Then the man said:

“This is at last bone of my bones

And flesh of my flesh.

This one will be called Woman,

Because from man this one was taken- Genesis 2:23

Happy Founders Day Women of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority Inc!

I have always loved the above scripture, as it describes what a bond between man and woman should be; it lays the foundation for a husband and wife. In fact, verse 24 reads: That is why a man will leave his father and his mother and he must stick to his wife and they must become one flesh. I believe it is my sincerest belief that when A. Langston and Charles Taylor sat down and came up with the concept of a sister organization, they had their bibles opens to those scriptures. What other reason can there be for the bond that makes us who we are. I know first hand what that bond means. How so? Well it’s no secret that my relationship to my frat brothers is at best strained and at worse sucks. This is for a number of reasons, none of which I will go into in this blog. I will say it is always the connection to Zeta Phi Beta and the Sorors therein, that more often than not bring me back to the table and (keep me there) of Blue and White. This isn’t to say that my relationship with my Sorors hasn’t been polemic; quite the contrary. They have gotten on my nerves as I know I have gotten on theirs. Some I don’t speak to, and some I will never speak to. Those are the breaks. But, after the past year or so I realize that if my sisters step in my ass it is because of a basic truth as found in Luke 12:48: “Indeed, everyone to whom much was given, much will be demanded of him; and the one whom people put in charge of much, they will demand more than usual of him” They stay on me because they know I can do better. For this I thank them. For years, in my youth and arrogance I thought Deltas were what women should inspire to. It is with no shame I say that I was wrong, and that if and when I have a daughter, or wife, they shall be women of Zeta.

Damn, 87 years in the game. That’s saying a lot. I was wondering what I could say that would show my greatest appreciation to the organization of women who have been the most profound blessing a brother could have since becoming a member of the blue and white.

In the interest of keeping it simple (I’m looking at you Lillet), I’d just like to say thank you to:

The founders of ZPB, whose dedication to finer womanhood, scholarship, sisterly love, and a whole bunch of other pretty shit has lasted 87years and seems like it will last another 87 years,

Sorors Joy, Amber and Wendi, who taught me that everything on my mind need not be said,

Soror Desiree, who put out the word of my family’s trials and remained a friend throughout,

Soror Fredricka whose kind words often gave me a sense of hope during “the long night

Soror Lisa who keeps encouraging me to make it work,

The Sorors of the Phenomenal Pacific Region who showed a Brother love when I felt no love at the table of Blue and White,

The Sorors in Chicago, AJ, Tina, Renee, Chaisty, Mel, Tuesday, and that Capricorn who rules the world (LOL) and the all the rest, who came to my family’s aid in our time of need, responding before the brothers, and providing the ultimate service, working my father’s repast. That is a debt I will never be able to repay

Soror Michele who forgave my silliness and helped me through the grieving process,

Soror Mya, who continues to look out for me and make me smile, even when I don’t want to,

Soror Katina, who really helped me focus on what I needed to do,

Soror Rev. Dr. BJ, for showing me those wounds doesn’t always heal unless we take the initiative to rest, lest we infect others. Freedom is TRULY a beautiful thing.

Soror Isheya, who helped me see that flaws and all I am one of the beautiful ones,

Soror Lillet my “attorney”, friend, big sister and conscience. You have been there through good times and bad, sickness and health. I am closer to you than my blood sister. I am always a phone call away.

Soror Nickia, the Greatest Zeta. You have been many things to me, but chief of these is friend. I have learned and grown since being bless with your presence. Wise beyond your years and beautiful to match, knowing you has been my greatest blessing since becoming a man of Sigma. I can never repay you for what you’ve done. I can only continue to press towards the mark of the higher calling. The bible says that there are three great emotions one can have is faith, hope and love. Indeed, you have shown all three. (Stop frowning Lillet and Nickia, I know that was extra). Thank you…

Sorors world wide (and any I forgot ;-)) Enjoy your day…

Represent goddamn it, this day is for you

Happy Founders Day Women of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority Inc!

And That is Straight, No Chaser!

TLT

Jan 16, 2007

5:00AM