Sunday, January 28, 2007

Tidbit, Oprah, Ghetto Soul

Took a bit of a break this week - works has me overloaded. I needed to catch up on sleep but realize that it is simply impossible. So much has happened and yet I still feel the same. I am behind in every aspect of my writing - my self imposed deadlines are being destroyed, mangle and distorted daily. I got to pull this thing in, gain some control.

I have to update Stream in the Desert and this journal more than weekly - I used to get it done, but now 3 am writes are impossible. My body has had enough. I am going to find an alternative solution - even if I have to walk around with a lap top. I have so many ideas that escape me every day, just because I didn't get a chance to capture them. Which reminds me, I have a new blog up for just those situation s- possible story lines that I normally don't capture . I am posting them at Story Developments , lettin them stew, see if anyone thinks there interesting, whether I should keep going with the particular story.

SO much has happened this week. Watched Serena - so proud of her - locking down the Australian Open.

Ghetto Soul is back in effect - the holidays seemed to almost wipe it out. Very happy to vibe over there. Had a great poem, tried to remember it because my pen dried up, and forgot it as soon as I sat at the computer. Watched Aretha's tribute on BET - fell asleep. Nuff said, I don't want to start rantin about my disappointment in BET. Why didn't someone tell Aretha about that dress?

Oh - my TV highlight of the week was watching Oprah's roots on PBS. They traced back her heritage, and it was a phenomenal, breathtaking experience. SO touching. So amazing that they could go prior to the Civil War and find something. I was enthralled until Oprah managed to ruin it. The Genealogist announced that they traced her roots all the way back to Africa. He wanted her to guess what her tribe was. And she said......."Zulu- I really have always believed I am Zulu." Ok people, now, I was pretty sure she was kiddin, I even chuckled-yeah we all heard the Zulu warrior thing in the 80 empowerment movement. So, when he announced that NO African American Slaves came from South Africa she was so disappointed that she couldn't even pull it together. Sista had to take a moment to swallow that. I still thought she was jokin, until I realized that whole tone and vibe had changed. After the genealogist told her everything most of us would love to know, she started operating in rote Oprah mode, no pure emotion. And the brotha later apologized for having had to tell her she wasn't Zulu.

Ya'll I don't even know where to begin on that one. How could Oprah have really thought she was Zulu, knowin her folks on both sides had been slaves. Uhm, haven't we established that Shaka Zulu wasn't tolerating slavery. Wouldn't that summarily eliminate the possiblity that she was Zulu. Furthermore, with MAya ANgelo and other great black writers who have lived in Africa as her best friends, no one clued her in on the fact that slavery occured along Africa's western borders. All that money and girlfriend hasn't been to the Ivory Coast. Then, how is she disapointed? Western Africa contained some dynamic dynasties, particularly the region they believe she descended from, current day Liberia. Is htat the reason for the school there instead of here or West Africa? Now, I am not criticizing where she plants her money, and I am glad those young ladies are getting the opportunity, I just wonder....I had no words....It was one of those times when I was astounded by sista girlfriend...

Alright - so I am going to get back to posting on the regular...thanks for hangin in there with me. If you can, catch Oprah's heritage special, other than her Zulu snafu and subsequent deflating, it is phenomenal. Check out my other sites - let me know what you think. keep me posted on your projects...
Peace
a.Kai

Saturday, January 20, 2007

Upward Bound

I had an awesome day today. I was asked by a close, close, close friend, might as well be my brotha, to speak to a group of 15-17 year olds about my college experiences, my career, my thoughts. It is interesting, I wasn't nervous, which I thought I would be. I have always loved talkin to the teens, have always seemed to get through to them. The only time it wasn't positive was when I was teaching-volunteering at this "Lean on ME" school in SouthEast DC. I had some great kids, but most were so far behind in basic skills it left me shocked, stunned. I was unprepared, unaware, of how to help them fill in the gap, a big black chasm-uncrossable by my little street law class. Additionally, quite a few of my students were heron (heroine) addicts. For real. I didnt even know people, much less black teens, did heron. I would be teaching and a student would just sit there and buzz for the entire hour. Scariest thing I have ever seen. Gross, too. Bizarre, cause no else else thought it crazy but me. The other students would just shrug, like oh well.

So anyway, that experience had tainted me, but I wanted to see if I was still up to it, so I accepted the invite. I had a wonderful time. THese kids were bright eyes, have a focus on the future. Have a future. Believe in one, depsite it all. Got up on a Saturday morning to attend Upward Bound class supplements to their public education. They give a damn. Their parents give a damn. It inspired me to give them the real, lay it out, speak on the purpose of college - getting and education for the sake of education - for obtaining that higher plateau, not just for a job...

THey interacted, paid attention, grinned and laughed - I gave myself over to them, fell in love with our children, again!! Told them how many kids I had, one young man held his head, like it was going to explode. Hilarious. SO I did give my mini - its great to not have children and yeah its hard but, if it happens unexpected, know that it does not stop life, you just have to press harder talk...

I ended by reading them a poem - Envy's Child. At first I felt kinda stupid, like they had listened already, I dind't want to force a captive audience. Let me tell you, they fell silent while I read and, despite 2 word blunders, because I had never read it out loud before, when I finished the room was dead silent. I looked up and....(wait for it)......alright, they all started snappin me up!!! I was...completely touched.

Had a wonderful time. OUr future is waiting for us to lead them through thise denser jungle. I hope I get another opportunity to aid in their walk....

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Lavender Isis


SO, I have entered into a publishing agreement with LAvender Isis Press to distribute the Discover Kai Petry Collection e-Book series. I am very excited about this. I could have set up an e distribution means myself, but why. Why not take the opportunity to network, gian some exposure and enjoy a fair publishing experience.

Lavender Isis has prepared a new cover for the first release - Internal Indulgences - tell me what you think!

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Dr. Martin Luther King

Today is the celebration of the life and sacrifice of Dr. Martin Luther King. There is not much I can say that hasn't been said, no personal reflection or insight that would carry any weight. The only thing that I can say is that Dr. King made a great sacrifice that should never, ever be diminished or taken for granted. As a child it seemed so simple to understand that he fought for what was right. Aren't the lines between right and wrong so clear when your young? So I sang the songs and memorized the speeches and said the correct things to pay proper homage.

But I didn't get it. Not really! I didn't understand what it meant to have a family, a spouse and a child, and risk your life and theirs. Risk your livelihood and theirs. Face nonstop dissension from within and without. Suffer personal blows and humiliation. Live life under a never ending microscope. Risk leaving this world, and forfeiting the ability to raise your children, hold your grandchildren, smile into the eyes of your beautiful spouse.

I couldn't have done it. I wouldn't have. Not for black folks. Not for any folks. I would have fallen in line and did what I could to preserve what I had. I wish I could say better of myself, but it's not true. And I know that I am not the women Coretta Scott King was. To place a brave public face, to suffer silently, to watch your husband walk out the door knowing full well he might never return. To deal with the daily attacks, the bomb threats, the threats to your children's life. Never. It would have been simpler, easier, to just walk away, return to your folks and cover your children under the families protection. Make your husband choose between your family and the world. But she didn't. She remained the woman of perfect poise until her death.

So, when I think about Dr and Mrs. King, my mind is boggled by the day to day reality of it all. The day to day hurt, loss, suffering, love, celebration, joy, death, pain, isolation.....And there is nothing that can replace it, no amount of measure to be placed upon it. All I can do is live my life as a reflection of Dr. King's accomplishment, proving that equality in opportunity can be fully utilized to achieve the impossible. All I can do is thank him, his family, the multitudes of others that made a sacrifice I can't even comprehend to give me a chance, and, ultimately, make this country a better place.

Please, take the time today to acknowledge Dr. King. Celebrate this holiday and make it count!

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Video Vixen Love

Just went to my girl Nikky's site Players Haters and Imitators. No matter how hard I try to hide it, I am always all up in the black hip hop, actor, artist scene and gossip. So, on the site today was a shot of Malinda Williams (Soul Food and three million other shows since we were kids - she's been acting forever) with none other than Melissa Ford. Now, you may not know the name. I first got hip to her when I watched VH1's video vixen expose'. She is a beautiful gilr, but she's got that video look all over her. I try not to judge, and she came across very straight on the VH1 thing, definitely not as scandalous as some.

Soon thereafter, she became a VJ at BET. Well, you know how that works, she was the appropriate color ---sorry my lighter complexioned friends, but lets be real, if you don't have prior hype BET still seems to go by the brown bag test (if you don't know what that is, ask any black person over 50, especially one that went to a black college). And if you can't pass that test, you better be brown with hair down your back Ananda Lewis style - or beautiful beyond compair (there was one exception, the newscaster whose name escapes me).

Anyway. Melissa. BET VJ. That's where I was, right? So, I caught her in passing, cause I been boycotting BET since the 90's (although I did watch the Lil Kim prison joint - couldn't help myself). Particularly boycotting tonight while they destroy one of the best shows running (who let them have the WIRE and pepper it with promos for American Gangsta and SOUL PLANE) yeah, cause that's what we need a black TV station for, to pile on all the stereotypical nonsense in one shot and destroy the true raw reflection of the Wire.

Alright, so anyway, my point is Melissa, BET VJ, has gotten her fare share of fame lately. When I saw her on Player Vista, she had removed the video vixennes. The weave, the contacts, the too wet lipstick, the over done pouty poses - all gone. And you know what, she looked like a cool, down, got your back homegirl!

Which made me think, why did The Game and Kanye West feel it necessary to out her and every other "video vixen" in The Game's latest joint Wouldn't Get Far? I don't get it. Isn't it the artist and the "hip hop" life that created this type of women in the first place. How else do you get in the game as a women, get a piece of fame? Then, after convincing our women that this is the only way in (on top of a myriad of other factors that further degrade us) these two idiots have to personally attack them and tell tehri business. And of course every Radio ONe station (a whole notha article of disgust) is playin this nonsense?

I have never seen a bigger group of women hating men than rappers. Think about it. Every thing is about sticking and movin- like Cuba and the hole in the wall of the ship. After the blast off, it is total hate and disregard, like a rapist after attacking his victim. SO, you sleep with every video chick you can get, then out them with blatant disregard. Don't forget, The Game was disrespectful to Maya, listen to the words of his biggest hit, don't watch the video and get it twisted, she was just fool enough to play along.

You know where I am going with this right. Why do these men hate women so much. I haven't read Karin's book (Superhead), but from what I heard the rappers were downright disgusting while the athletes were like regular men, getting something and giving something in return, but not blatant hateful spite. Now, I am not going to put it all the way out there, but some of you will get where I am going with this. In fact, to hell with it, how many hip hop artists are you suspecting hate women all the way to the point of no return, to possibly ballin for the other team? I am suspecting more and more.

In the meantime, I encourage Melissa Ford and others to hold their head up. No matter how they got in this game, no matter why they thought it was their path, I am going to stop hating on the victim. Black women tend to care for our men like they are boys, and we always take their side.

We don't like Clarence Thomas, but still don't support Anita Hill. Can't stand Mike Tyson, still refuse to see a Robin Given's movie or entertain the thought that a cannibal might also be a bit "aggressive" sexually. No. Our boys have gone too far. I, like others, supported hip hop, and believed that nonesense that "the term Bitch didn't apply to me," so there was nothing wrong with it. But guess what, the generation under me became so accustomed to it, that they don't even know its wrong. Missie Elliot and her "Ima B" song pretty much tied that up. Hell, it is applied to me by default - I am a black woman!.

Check this: Camer'on should never ever ever recieve any accolades from our community after rapping about bustin off on Nas' then four year old baby - rap battle be damned. R.Kelly should not be one of our biggest artists after pissin all over one child, marrying another and turning out a third who was a gospel phenom-during the height of her child gospel career (yes, De'Leone). AND WE BLAME THE WOMEN. WE look at superhead and roll our eyes, wonder what Aliyah's parents were thinking, shake our head at Nas' baby mama.

Yall know what, Im gonna put my money where my mouth is. I am buyin the expose books, to support my black women. I currently turn off the radio whenever R.Kelly's nasty self comes on. Even if the girls didn't know better, I sure as hell do. And The Game and Kanye - well, they just got put on my "cut off" list. Truth be told, Kanye was already there - convincing folks that going to college was a waste of time and pointin at his success as proof - leaving out the fact that his mama is a college professor and he lived a very privileged and rare life. I believe he is fluent in Chinese, ya'll, seriously. So, he needs to stop acting an unnecessary fool. I am tired of it ya'll....I got daughters to raise!!

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

30's the new 20?

So, I was cruisin home tonight, in this metro area traffic hell, with the music pumpin so the bass was rattlin in my stomach. Arms up, dancing in my seat, practicing my belly dancing class hip shakes at every light. Havin a little party, yall. Love the early 30's. Love that the confusion of the 20's has finally settled. Love that a new peace comes with the maturity. Love that I know how to release, let go, not give a daxx!! Love that I am apart of that newly 30, educated, makin a little sumpin, livin a little sumpin, lookin like a little sumpin crowd.

So, while I was shakin it and partyin Jay-z's "30 is the new 20's" start playin. At first, as usual, I turned it up, repeated the words by rote memory. But then, I really started listening and it got me to thinkin, is 30's the new 20's for most of our brothas, or just Jigga. I mean, since every other lyric is all about what he got (which is how you know he wrote the latest mess B is screamin - oops I meant singing - although I love her Upgrade Ya is 100% Jigga), which may not have started the materialism, but damx sure didn't help, what is different about 30's and the 20's?BTW- Its kinda unfair, isn't it, for him to mature now and then look back at all the trends and lifestyles he perpetuated and laugh at how ignorant it is. I mean, you were the main one who started the cigar nonesense...

While I am glad to hear a song about maturin and changin, cause he nailed that part of it down, I do have one other bone to pick with him: at the end of the day the only mention of a significant other is something like "Your Chic shoppin at the mall, my Chic shopping at Bergdorffs"

Ahhh, let me have a little moment hear. Son, Mr Jay to the Izzo, if every part of you has matured, no longer wearing those baggy pants, or puttin the tint on the hooptie and rims on the ride, then why are you still callin the female in your life a Chic. Have you figured out everything else, except how to pare yourself with a WOMAN! Yes, She's a WOMAN. Like the good pastor always says, there is power in the name. She is not a chic, a girl, or anything less that a Woman, if she is with you while you are teaching us the glory of finally being a man! So, can you use some of that newly found wisdom and start that new trend that will stun hip hop - instead of Beating the Block (a huh, i peeped that) why not hold your woman out as your queen. Shock the hell outta the culture.

But I digress, other than my little "chic" peeve, I had to say that I so, so love this age and stage of life. Anyone out there understand? what do yall think - is 30's the new 20?

Saturday, January 06, 2007

High School

DO you remember highschool? Of course you do, how could you not? The you that you are now was certainly formed, solidified during those four years. I watched my son with his basketball team this week in one of the biggest games in the DC area, so large in fact, that it was held at a local university. While I watched all the kids walk back and forth I couldn't help but think of my days in highschool, the good and the bad.

Amazingly, I am realizing that I didn't remember alot of the good, so focused on the bad. What I managed to hide from most of my peers (everyone except Shani (for those that know me)) was that my mother was in the throes of severe manic depression during those years, and my home life felt like hell. On top of that, I was struggling with letting my father back in my life, a whole 'nother set of issues that would stun most of you and I still haven't resolved enough to air out to the general public. But, that is mostly what I remember when I think back on those years, which is why I blocked them out. But, scraping through the memories, I am realizing that my high school was a cushion, a home away from home, that undoubtedly enabled me to survive my private hell.

I felt free in high school. So much so, that I would act a fool at the drop of the dime. I was telling a good friend yesterday how I would jump out of the car at a red light, singing whatever was on the radio, performing for my fellow car mates, and whoever else was on the street. My girlfriend Chandra and I turned out many a party. In fact, senior year was nothing but house parties, one after another, and I had no problem spending most of my time on the dance floor (kinda how I wound up with a DJ for a husband).

Anyway, I watch my son and am happy for him. High school is every thing it should be for him, for any kid. He thinks he is "the man!"(smile) I stress humility, ya'll, so he is only kidding when he says that mess to me! But I watch some of his peers, and they remind me of some of my peers. Those that lived in a bubble, those that we snubbed, gossiped about, back stabbed. Or simply ignored, avoided, assumed conceit and treated differently - for absolutely no logical reason. Our own insecurities. (BTW-I have sworn off gossiping, thank God, it feels so good to not be that type of person anymore!!!) On some level, we place people in a bubble, judge them based on our own insecurities, and therefore make it impossible for them to enjoy the freedom of highschool, to which they are equally entitled.

IT is amazing, actually, how much the peer group forms how you perceive yourself. Does the finest guy know he is fine, or does he only know that girls either torment him with the nonstop attack, or completely ignore him, assuming he is a hoe? Does the prettiest girl know she is pretty, or think something is inherently wrong with her since people avoid her like the plague? What about the girl that slips up and has sex once and everyone hears the exaggeration and avoids her because she is a "tramp?" The what ifs can go on forever...I admitted to a friend that I was self conscious about my certain bodily "attributes" in highschool which kept me from doing alot of what I wanted, stopped me from pursuing folks i liked. She pointed out that maybe that was the ultimate plan, maybe I needed to have that burden to keep me from being wild...a different way to look at it, huh? So maybe there is an ultimate purpose to it all- the goods and bads of the artificial construct of highschool.

Just something I was thinkin about today ---posted a poem about it. Let me know your thoughts....

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

That Rat Race

AS I drove home tonight, I thought about the pursuit of success. For years I believed that if I just got this degree or received that acknowledgement, this job or that career, then I will have made it. I think that I always assumed that once I had the ideal six figure job, that was it. I had made it. I could chill, enjoy life, wait for all the good things to come. I didn't realize then that all the education, the studying, the suffering, the tight times, they were preparation for the next level. When I got the six figure job, it was the BEGINNING!!

The Beginning? I felt like Andre 3000 - forever, forever ever, forever ever? Suddenly, there was a higher level of expectation, a higher game of deceit, backstabbing, kill or be killed. And I was tired. Mentally exhausted. I had nothing left for the game, I had given it all on the climb to get there. I reached the mountain top breathless, with just enough energy to stand on the platform, before realizing that it was only the gate to the next level.

So, I walked away. And did alot of growing, alot of suffering. A great amount of indecision. But I survived. With my sanity. And now, as I prepare to reenter that rat race, I am trying to grasp what will be different this time. What will I do to keep myself grounded, to not lose myself in the hypocrisy of it all.

There are differences this time. More children - a larger family depending on me. A much deeper level of maturity, a much clearer understanding of who I am, what I am and am not willing to sacrifice. This time I am fully aware that the "attaining" is merely the starting line, I want to cross the finish line this time. I want to run the race, push myself, slow up and catch my breath, bare down and ride that second wind.

It is interesting, isn't it, that all of the work, the degrees, the politicking and networking, the hustle, all of it just gained me ACCESS. Nothing more.

I remember when they (politicians) discussed the need for affirmative action, or the lack of need, they argued that the past thirty years leveled the playing field. And someone, I can't remember who, pointed out that we might all be at the starting line, but the legacy of slavery, Jim Crow, segregation, were invisible shackles on are ankles. So while we(Americans) we are all lined up together, when that starting gun sounds, African Americans have to first pull and struggle to break their chains before actually running, and even then they are running with the shackles on.

I think I am finally snapping the shackles at that starting line, and it only took me 24 years of education and 33 years of life. Now, hopefully, I am strong enough to run and keep up, despite the heavy metal strapped to my ankles....

Monday, January 01, 2007

Life - The Series (Cover)

Well, the cover for Life-The Series has been created by a wonderful illustrator, who, for myspace purposes, goes by the name The Red Salamander Zaruga. So, here it is:



Tell me what you think!! I had some Myspace feedback already - a couple of folks commented that you couldn't tell what the book was about from the cover. A Valid point. But, the book is about emotions, couples going through it - something I should have a doctorate in, folks, cause we have been through hell and back.

So, how do you put that on a cover? No disrespect, but I don't want a straight up naked sistah, bent over, or with a man sexin her down all over the cover. Yeah, I may write about it-a lil sumpin sumpin, but children go in the bookstore, my cover can't blatantly corrupt the kids. (I think the cover above kinda pushed the limit on the nudity as is).

I don't want the cover to paint to much of a "couple drama" picture either, because so many books are about that, and I am hoping that the writing and the spin on this is a little different, something that I don't know how to portray in the cover. So, there it is. Please look it over and tell me what you think. Those that have read Life-The Series, also let me know whether the cover matches up with the content at all or is too far off the mark.

Thanks