Charles Easley

"Without Sancturary: Lynching Photography in America," a Video Promo

Glenn Burkin the publisher of Q City Metro partnered with the Levine Museum of the New South to host a discussion group to discuss the exhibit "Without Sanctuary: Lynching Photography in America."

The group was challenged with processing the visual text through their individual filters.

How can one reconcile these historical acts of atrocity in our modern day existence.

Shannise Jackson and Charles Easley are videographers.

Charles Easley is the editor.

Without Sanctuary Promo from Professor Locs on Vimeo.

 

Gabby Douglas and her hair raising story

Gabby Douglas is an accomplished, young African American woman who is an Olympic champion, but her history-making performance in gymnastics was momentarily eclipsed by something as trivial as her hair.

Holy hot combs, Batman!

This young gazelle was out there running, jumping, tumbling and delivering Circus du Soleil-inspired performances while millions watch in amazement, yet some – including a significant number of African American women – chose to demonize her because of the condition or state of her hair?

Let’s see how well your “hairdo” holds up under those types of conditions.

We have not seen folks turn on a black woman on Twitter this bad since folks dogged Tami Roman from “Basketball Wives,” and she deserved it with all her ratchet behavior.

One person on Twitter wrote: “Why hasn’t anyone tried to fix Gabby Douglas’ hair?”

Another opined: “gabby douglas gotta do something with this hair! these clips and this brown gel residue aint it?”

If critics stopped for a moment to considered her back story, how Gabby had to leave her family to train at a very early age and lived with a white family in Iowa, maybe they would cut her some slack.

I went to school in Iowa. Not only are you hard pressed to find someone there who remotely knows anything about black hair, but I don’t think they even had one shelf of black hair products in the entire state.

Gabby had her own response to all the controversy: "I don't know where this is coming from. What's wrong with my hair? I just simply gelled it back, put some clips in it and put it in a bun. Are you kidding me? I just made history. And you're focusing on my hair? I just want to say; we're all beautiful inside out.”

Gabby, this is coming from an historical and prevalent undermining of black women and their beauty and worth. On the surface we may say we are all beautiful inside and out, but how much of the negative hype have African-American women themselves internalized?

Some would argue that a woman’s hair is her crown and glory, and I am not here to debate whether you want to rock the weave or go natural, but there seems to be a sort of collective consciousness of self-esteem issues if this much energy is given to this young lady’s hair.

It is like there was an unseen black female sports reporter during Gabby’s performance, giving secret commentary:

NBC Analyst 1: "She has shown such great poise during her overall performance."

NBC Analyst 2: "There was a slight hesitation in her initial approach to the balance beam but she pulled off an incredible routine."

Black Woman: "I have to say that her dismount earned her every bit of her overall score of 9.8, but truthfully I was too distracted by how busted her kitchen looked."

The sad thing is, this entire controversy speaks to a larger issue of some African American women’s obsession with hair. Chris Rock’s documentary pays homage to this ongoing fascination.

Gabby should be a role model for women committed to physical fitness, but we have women who would rather chance serious health concerns like obesity, high blood pressure and diabetes. They would risk loosing a foot because they don’t want to sweat their hair out.

Gabby, I say let your haters be your motivators. Diva, hold your brown-gelled head up high and introduce a new floor routine set to the music of India Arie’s “I Am Not My Hair” and laugh all the way to the bank with the millions you will earn in endorsements.

And possibly to placate some of your detractors, maybe one of those endorsements will be from a black hair care product….smile.

Paltrow tweets the n-word, really?

Gwyneth Paltrow is in the news, but not for a film role or her fashion statements on the red carpet. Rather, she finds herself in the midst of a controversy for tweeting the n-word.

The backdrop for all this drama was Paris, where Paltrow was attending Jay Z and Kanye’s “Watch the Throne” tour with BFF Beyonce. She was backstage and must have caught a case of rap vapors, because she was snapped in a photo among hip-hop moguls and then tweeted “Ni**as in Paris for real.”

The tweet went viral and, well, that’s when Paltrow’s tweet hit the fan!

She immediately tried to contain the controversy by saying in a subsequent tweet: “Hold up, it’s the title of the song!”

Yes, Paltrow was correct, but therein lies most of the problem.

Maybe because of Paltrow’s relationship with some of her high-profile black buddies she felt comfortable enough and “down” enough to use the phrase without fear of consequences. I do wonder how the same picture of Paltrow using another rap song title -- “B*tch better have my money” -- would go over? Do I think she used poor judgment? Yes. But can we really lay the blame at her feet?

Russell Simmons rushed to Paltrow’s defense (big surprise). In a recent article he spoke of an earlier concert featuring his protégé Jay Z, and in an almost dreamy recollection of that concert he shares, “Every white girl (and there were a lot of them) was singing it to their man…“Ain’t no n*gga like the one I got!” EVERYONE was singing every word of every song for the entire set, which ended with “N*ggas In Paris.” White, black – everyone was singing along.”

Hmm, I wonder if this is the vision Martin Luther King Jr. had of black and white unity?

It seems Paltrow has a lot of black supporters in her posse. Singer The Dream, who initially claimed to have sent the tweet from Paltrow’s phone (yeah, right), goes on to school us less-evolved consumers of popular culture:

"N---a doesn't have any power over me which is why this will be the last thing I say about it," he wrote. "A word means something when u react to it! ... Context is everything. Meaning it in the context as a Song which is how we Sold it to the world!!!!!!”

So, if we follow this logic, then, ladies, the next time some poor drunk slob calls you a hoe or slut at the club, you should not be offended and certainly should not react.

Well, I think we all stand corrected by this very informed singer, rapper and cultural critic on the historical complexities of the n-word as it relates to the derogatory narrative of a specific marginalized community and the apparently diminished cultural impact of using the n-word in a contemporary lyrical context.

According to these so-called artist and media moguls, we are all being too sensitive and not accepting of their progressive stance on selling the n-word to the masses while lining their pockets and elevating their famous profiles.

I have spoken often about the unpredictable and uncomfortable process of co-opting culture. You do not get to pick and choose how the mainstream will process and use signifiers of a culture. We cannot hold Paltrow and others to a different standard when we ourselves cannot agree and adhere to a similar standard of respect.

The amazing thing to me is that, for some reason, artists like The Dream, Jay Z and Kanye are fine selling the n-word to the world. But at what cost? Yes, any artist has some artistic autonomy, but when you are linked to a marginalized community, you become an extension of that community and right or wrong a de-facto voice of that community.

Simmons speaks proudly about this utopian culture he and artist like Jay Z have crafted where black, white and other cultures come together in a synchronous celebration of the n-word. According to Simmons, they use it because the n-word is no longer relevant.

I wonder why a word associated with such historical disdain toward African Americans is so easily cast as irrelevant. Could we get away with using similarly derogatory terms for other groups while artists get rich and famous?

Maybe to test this theory, Simmons will be invited to give the commencement speech at Morehouse and salute the group of hopeful, educated young, mostly African American men by saying, “Congratulations, n*ggas!” Or maybe Jay Z will one day refer to his new daughter at her sweet-16 party as one of the most beautiful n*ggas he has ever seen?

It seems to me that the reason we continue to have controversy over the n-word is that we are not as evolved as Simmons and other artists who profit from selling it all nicely wrapped in concerts, bling, music videos, cars, and general hip-hop culture think we are. Maybe, just maybe, the word still has more power and is more relevant than they would have us believe.
 

Not feeling this Vibe By Professor Locs – May 31, 2012

I make it my business to keep up with trends in the media, so I was not surprised when I heard about Vibe magazine’s new cover featuring some of the black bad girls of reality TV with the caption…wait for it: “Meet your new role models: Kandi, Tamar, Evelyn and Chrissy.”

Holy Hell Cats, Batman!

If you are a self-proclaimed reality TV snob or have just been under a media rock then you may not know that these women represent the very popular shows “The Housewives of Atlanta,” “Braxton Family Values,” “Basketball Wives” and “Love and Hip Hop,” respectfully. The shows have made these women and others like them household names, but some would ask, at what cost?

The women featured on the Vibe cover are there because they have become famous, or infamous, because of their reality personas -- personas that participate in behavior including but not restricted to: being loud, crude, confrontational, earring snatching, heel tossing, spitting, cursing, cat fighting, neck rolling, over-the-top media banshees. What they also have in common is that this behavior is not only a guaranteed ratings booster, it has become synonymous with reality shows that feature women of color.

On the June-July cover of Vibe magazine, reality TV vixens Kandi, Tamar, Evelyn and Chrissy are held up as our "new role models."

So who is ultimately responsible for this image, and should such women be held up as role models?

What are the implications for other young women who see these shows and aspire to be like these women?

Shaunie O’Neal, executive producer of “Basketball Wives,” released a statement to Vibe: “I will never say I agree with some of the behavior between my girlfriends on the show, but if we were to edit certain things out, the show would be scripted and not reality,” she said.

News flash! Many of these shows are very much “produced” to stage and encourage certain behaviors and reactions.

O’Neal goes on to say, “As a woman of color with kids, I am very aware of myself, but I also have to be aware that my choices cannot be the same for everyone on the show and I have to respect that.”

Translation: I am laughing all the way to the bank because I want to have a life and reputation beyond the show, but if these reality TV Valkyries want to act a fool every week, then so be it; I’m getting paid!

There are a few dynamics at work here. These are women who, by all accounts, are trying to get their hustle on and cash in on their fame before the payday runs out. We also have shows that boast incredible ratings, which means that on some level the viewing audience co-signs this type of behavior.

Can we associate the latter scenario with similar urges that drive us to smell the milk well beyond its expiration date or to curse out folks in traffic who are rubber necking but we ourselves slow down and with voyeuristic glee take in the spectacle of some horrible accident?

To really get into a discussion about why these shows and their representation of black women and marginalized communities is detrimental, we have to visit a class I like to call “Media and Culture 101.”

Case in point. I grew up watching the opulent, diva-packed, nighttime soap opera “Dallas” back in the day. The show captured some of the most well-produced catfights caught on film. However, for every female co-star Joan Collins pimp slapped each week, only her actions were scrutinized; she did not become a representative for all white women. This is the historical and contemporary difference as it relates to media and culture.

Right or wrong, people from marginalized communities who are in the media have a tendency of becoming extended representatives of that community. So when Evelyn of “Basketball Wives” (and I am not making this up) takes off her shoes, cursing, climbs over a table at a posh venue and hurls a wine bottle at another woman, then on some level all black women and women of color become scrutinized due to her actions.

So if we are now celebrating women like this as the new role models and this trend continues, then you may find yourself watching a new show next season -- “Black She Devils.” This new reality show would explore the sometimes-complicated life of being the first lady and wife of a mega-church pastor.

I can hear the promo now: “Watch and enjoy the heavenly hijinks as these spiritual divas do battle with deacons, fashion designers, the usher board, kitchen ministry, choir directors, Satan and, most importantly, each other.”

I’m just saying.

Panelist for "The Color of Media"

For the second year the Charlotte Black Film Festival (CBFF) will screen three days of independent films that express the African American experience. It all happens during the Central Intercollegiate Athletic Association (CIAA) basketball tournament.

Q City Metro’s own weekly columnist Professor Locs, aka Charles Easley will serve on a panel  for the Charlotte Black Film Festival with other distinguished guest on the subject of The Color of Media.  The panel discussion will be held March 1st this Thursday at the Mint Museum UPTOWN from 10:00am – 12:00pm.  The Color of Media panel will discuss how African-Americans are portrayed on TV and in Films. 

Trayvon Martin: A Culture of Apathy

Al Sharpton and others are already preparing to protest and start a national campaign to highlight the tragic death of Trayvon Martin, the 17-year-old Florida teen who was shot by an overzealous neighborhood watch leader. Unlike in so many other cases, this young man was not engaged in nefarious activity but was simply walking home from a neighborhood store, which makes his death all the more senseless.

Still, I can’t help but wonder: Why do some youth in our community die in total obscurity while others are given a national spotlight?

Mine may be a minority opinion, but I would like to see us as a community become as engaged and outraged when any of our youth are taken too soon, regardless of the killer’s ethnicity.

Thanks to an epidemic of violence, we have become desensitized to killing. And this sense of apathy becomes more distinct as it relates to marginalized communities and the disposability of their citizens.

We have seen our share of teen casualties right here in Charlotte. And just recently, according to the Chicago Tribune, the Windy City saw a rash of shootings that left at least 10 people dead, including a 6-year-old girl. We are not hearing as much about those because some folks involved have been linked to gang activity – again, they were disposable.

I guess this is hitting close to home for me because I have three young nephews, and although they are reasonably well adjusted, I fear for their well-being. I do not want them to suffer the same fate as Trayvon Martin. The cultural dirty secret that we do not like to discuss, of course, is that they are more likely to be harmed by someone from their own culture.

I mentor many youth, especially young black men, and I am increasingly disturbed by the pervasive street mentality that I see. How can you say that you want to be educated, learned and evolved when you continue to adhere to the same street ideology?

I see how angry and disillusioned these young men are and how quickly they are willing to take it out on one another without understanding that there is a system in place that is waiting to absorb them into its institutionalized mechanical clutches.

It is like watching an episode on the Discovery Channel, where two hyenas attack one another while absolutely oblivious to the more prominent threat of a huge culture of lions surrounding them and awaiting to consume them both.

Chris Rock once said during one of his comedy routines that, when he went out at night, he was not fearful of “the man” but was more concerned of other black folks. He used the n-word, but I am trying to be more academic…smile.

Again, I am not trying to diminish the tragedy of young Martin’s death, but can we expect to hold mainstream society accountable to a standard of our cultural worth when we cannot consistently honor our own lives and relevance?

How can I talk about the state of your kitchen when I have dirty dishes stacked in my sink?

Maybe an appropriate litmus test of our evolutionary status as a society and community should be that we passionately organize, rally and protest when any child is lost, regardless of race, class, gender or socio-economic background.

The Color of Dating

So I was recently having a conversation with one of my close girl friends, Alease, about relationships. I have so much love and respect for this sister because she is her own woman and lives life on her own terms. Since I have known her, she has sometimes come under scrutiny for dating interracially.

I personally dated multiple cultures back in the day when I took my work as a community liaison very seriously (this is code for man whore….lol). I always related interracial dating to my fixation with a brand new box of crayons: Since I had a choice of 24 colors, why draw with only the green?

We are about to experience CIAA weekend, so this might give some a fleeting sense of hope in the dating pool. This is only temporary, people. You can enjoy the feast, but be prepared for the famine that takes place during drought season…lol.

There are so many African American women that I have known in my family, and also as friends, who, for whatever reason, are not open to dating outside their race. African American men strangely do not seem to have similar issues. It also seems that this reluctance is generational. I see many of my students who comfortably date across the racial divide with little regard to what people may think.

The last time I went home, I noticed that most of my young cousins are dating outside their race. Our family album is starting to look like an old-school United Colors of Benetton Ad.

If this is a trend that continues in our society, then why are some folks, especially African American women, so resistant to the concept?

When I was younger and traveled to Europe, my good friend, Marla, shared this metaphor: She said that for the first time I would understand what it was like to be white, blond and good looking. Marla is a dark-skinned, beautiful, curvy sister who has not always gotten the attention she deserved. Her travels to Europe changed her perspective. She found a bounty of men from many cultures waiting to compete for her attention.

And just as Marla predicted, I found in my travels an authentic appreciation for your cultural uniqueness. Imagine walking into a mainstream club in UPTOWN and having a majority of the patrons genuinely wanting to get to know you, and not in this weird, fetish “let’s sneak out the back before my friends see me” way. It was this experience that led me to understand that our narrow, Western concept of beauty has skewed our own perception of our own cultural beauty, worth and relevance.

I wonder if more black women were able to see themselves though this global lens if they would be more receptive to the attention that awaits them from so many other suitors?

I have queried many African American women in this ongoing discussion and have heard their worries. So I offer Professor Locs’ Top Five concerns that black women have about interracial dating:

5. How would he treat my children? (If your kids are good, no problem. If they are bad, like any other man, he will act as if he likes them to win you over but mentally he is beating them like piñatas)

4. What if people stare at us? (It is more common than you think. You are dating another race, not a farm animal. If they are staring, it could be his outfit choice.)

3. What if we are not compatible in bed? (Do what always works -- get through the evening, fake like you had a good time and then change your cell number.)

2. Could I take him with me to church? (Gauge his comfort level. You may want to start off with a quiet Methodist service and eventually work him up to an all-out, choir-singing, foot-stomping, shouting and speaking-in-tongues Pastor’s Anniversary Pentecostal Sunday Service.)

1. What if he wants to swim or touch my hair? (This response is universal, regardless of race: Look at him crazy and say, “Hell No.”)

So, enjoy yourselves during CIAA weekend, and color only with the black crayon if you wish, but remember: When the talent pool dries up again, you might want to consider coloring with one of the other 23 colors in your box…smile.

Panelist for "The Color of Media"

For the second year the Charlotte Black Film Festival (CBFF) will screen three days of independent films that express the African American experience. It all happens during the Central Intercollegiate Athletic Association (CIAA) basketball tournament.

Q City Metro’s own weekly columnist Professor Locs, aka Charles Easley will serve on a panel  for the Charlotte Black Film Festival with other distinguished guest on the subject of The Color of Media.  The panel discussion will be held March 1st this Thursday at the Mint Museum UPTOWN from 10:00am – 12:00pm.  The Color of Media panel will discuss how African-Americans are portrayed on TV and in Films.

The Charlotte Black Film Festival was founded by Tommy Nichols president and CEO of Glorified Media, and Dream Media Studios, LLC, an innovative corporate and event video production company.  The mission of the festival is to create economic empowerment for, heighten awareness of, promote the significance and need for African American cinema as an art form, and to be a voice for independent filmmakers of color.

You can visit http://charlotteblackfilmfestival.com/for more information on the films being screened, moderators, panelist, workshops and a complete schedule of events.

Black actresses: One step forward, two steps back By Professor Locs – January 25, 2012

Since last week, when the Golden Globes premiered, I’ve had very spirited discussions with some of my film students. Many are concerned and somewhat disenchanted with the restrictive culture of Hollywood as it relates to roles for black folks, especially black women. 

I watched the Globes last week and celebrated Octavia Spencer's win for Best Supporting Actress in “The Help.” I also had to bite my nails when one of my favorite actresses, Meryl Streep, won for her role in “The Iron Lady” and ousted Viola Davis for her incredible role in “The Help” in the Best Actress category.

Some critics will point out that the Golden Globes is a significant indicator of who will represent during Oscar night. The nominations were released yesterday and both Octavia Spencer and Viola Davis in their roles in “The Help” are nominated for Best Supporting actress and Best Actress respectively.  

Here is where I begin my rant. I typically have a problem with Hollywood “era” films that deal with race or in most cases do not deal with race authentically. 

My grandmother worked her entire life for white families, and I saw first hand the caste system at work. 

(Side note: Why is it that when black actors play servants or domestic roles like in “The Help,” they are always referenced as being “dignified?” If dignified is code for being able to get through an interview without pimp slapping the person that references your role as dignified, then I guess they are accurate.) 

There are incredible roles being portrayed by black actors and even recognized by alternative organizations like the Essence awards and the NAACP Image Awards. Many artists who are honored by these alternative organizations will say it means a lot coming from their own community. However, few of these awards shows have the career-advancing potential when compared to being honored by mainstream environments like the Oscars. And even then it can be hit or miss for many black actors. 

Why does Hollywood only recognize a limited range of roles for black women? I call it the “domestic, comic and tragic figure syndrome.” The ultimate movie would be to have a black woman play the role of a wisecracking, domestic that goes rogue and turns into a baking, stand-up comedian, window-washing nanny and serial killer with a catchy rap theme song. Now that would be a blockbuster film! 

Hollywood seems to be much more comfortable with the black actress as servant, comedian and/or fallen figure. Let's test that theory for those who have actually won an Oscar:

• Hattie McDaniel: Best Supporting actress for the happy domestic in “Gone With the Wind” (1939)

• Whoopi Goldberg: Best Supporting actress as funny medium in “Ghost” (1990)

• Halle Berry: Best Actress as a woman who falls for her ex-husband's racist executioner in “Monster's Ball” (2001). I would have been more comfortable with her winning for “Catwoman.”

• Jennifer Hudson: Best Supporting role as wisecracking plus size Diva in “Dreamgirls” (2006) 

• Monique: Best Actress for her role as a caustic, angry, sexual predator and abusive mother in “Precious” (2009).

Did I miss anyone?

I have always maintained that it is not the responsibility of one film to carry the weight of an entire community and culture, but the real challenge is that more films are made that explore the rich diversity and experiences of that culture.  

The issue or challenge at hand is: When will the mainstream organizations acknowledge and honor such great performances that do not fit its historically narrow perspective of how black women should be portrayed? I am curious who will represent on Oscar night.

Healing rituals By Professor Locs – January 18, 2012

What is it about being sick that reduces us, especially men, to a childlike state?

Last week, I could feel something had breached my anti-bacterial defenses. Unlike my other Tuskegee Experiment conspiracy-theorist friends, I had actually gotten a flu shot, but I knew that did not give me full protection. When you work in education and work around students who are always in various stages of contagion, you have to be prepared.

I quickly descended upon my neighborhood drugstore and stocked up on all the basics: Zinc, Theraflu, DayQuil, NyQuil, tea, ginger ale, Kleenex and a myriad of daytime cold and flu tablets.

Side note: Exactly when did the sick turn into crime suspects? All the medicine in drugstores is on lockdown, and I had to show proof of ID. I could purchase a hunter’s knife, rope, tape, chloroform and a copy of Serial Killer’s Digest and no one would bat an eye — but purchasing a box of cold medicine gets me the third degree. Go figure!

I made my way home with my arsenal of contemporary cold remedies. I sat in bed in my congested state, and I’m not sure if it was the cold medicine or my rapidly advancing childlike manner, but I began to wax nostalgic for my grandmother and her homemade remedies.

When I was younger, my grandmother had a very interesting healing ritual. One cough at night would set her in motion. I would try and muffle my cough into the pillow, but her bionic hearing would always reveal that there was someone in need.

After identifying the sick party, she would rush into the room with her tray of hot water, tea, ointments and other concoctions. The steam and the soft light from the other room created this vision of a mystical Southern version of Marie Laveau, high priestess of home cures.

Her ritual started with a spoonful of castor oil, which you had to swallow quickly to deal with the smell and taste. The oil also had the added benefit of disorienting you for the next stage of her rituals. She slipped a thermometer under your tongue to take your temperature … and also to ensure you did not spit out the nasty castor oil.

You were then stripped of your pajama top and your chest was slathered and coated like a Butterball turkey with Vicks Vapor Rub. She would even place a few globs under your nostrils. She then made you down a cup of lemon honey tea spiked with whatever dark liquor was on hand.

The last part of the ritual was to wrap you up tightly under a mound of covers. So you lay there in the dark sweating and panting from both the weight and effects of the Vicks Vapor Rub as you slipped into a whiskey-spiked-tea-induced state of slumber. But the next morning, you always felt better when she checked in on you.

So as I lay there surrounded by all my modern remedies, I had to ask myself what really triggers this childhood state of nostalgia when I am sick? Maybe, I truly miss my grandmother’s healing rituals. Maybe I miss the feeling and comfort of someone and something familiar when I am not feeling my best and vulnerable. Or maybe it could just be the whiskey … smile.

Please share your old-school healing remedies or stories.