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.
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.
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.
This is the latest in the Professor Locs "On the Yard" series. Professor Locs tries to process the sometimes myopic vision of how multiple cultures can be celebrated. I am still searching for a character with actual locks...lol. Enjoy!
There are two groups of our society that, when they are taken advantage of, I really get irate — and that is the elderly and children. So, like many of you, I am outraged by the Penn State scandal. Unless you have been held hostage in a Basketball Wives LA marathon and not following the news, I am talking about former Penn State assistant football coach Jerry Sandusky, who has been charged with sexually abusing several boys during his tenure with the university.
I do not follow sports, but I do follow the media. Sandusky was initially arrested and charged with sexually abusing eight boys over a 15-year span, some on Penn State property. Recently The New York Times reports that at least 10 more additional suspected victims have come forward. It seems Sandusky has been as busy off the field as he has been at coaching folks on the field.
Sandusky denies any allegations of sexual misconduct. "I am innocent of those charges," the 67-year-old Sandusky told Bob Costas in a telephone interview for NBC’s Rock Centeron Monday night. "... I could say that I have done some of those things. I have horsed around with kids. I have showered after workouts. I have hugged them, and I have touched their legs without intent of sexual contact."
Is this man truly delusional? Did he graduate from the Michael Jackson School of Secondary Education? When is it appropriate for a grown man to shower with underage boys?
In that same NBC interview, Costas asked Sandusky if he's a pedophile and Sandusky responded, "No." If you hear the actual interview Sandusky answers “no” only after a very uncomfortable pause.
Something unnerving has been at the back of my mind during this media circus and it was validated recently when I ran across an article written by Dr. Joyce Watkins. In the piece, Watkins says that we have to look at code phrases like “at-risk youth,” or “underprivileged kids.” Watkins believes that this is the media’s attempt at not dealing with race. Which begs the question: How many of these boys were Black?
It would be unimaginable for any child to have to endure such despicable acts, but in a society that has an unspoken hierarchy as it relates to race, class and gender, we have to ask were these factors in how this investigation was handled? We must also acknowledge that these victims, regardless of race, at least come from marginalized communities — communities that do not enjoy the same consideration (or in this case protection) as, say, youth from more privileged communities.
Case in point: If we examine the timeline of Sandusky, we see that his graduate assistant Mike McQueary almost 10 years earlier enters the locker room and witnesses Sandusky sexually abusing a young boy. McQueary later reports this to the head coach and university authorities, but nothing comes from this report. The lack of protection from the institution and authorities on some level cosigns the deplorable behavior of this pedophile and others who knew of these acts. We have to ask, would the outcome be the same if the youth were from a well-to-do family? Would McQueary have just walked away if the boy being molested were from his son’s car pool?
I am not trying to play the race card but at least open a discussion of the disparity of power as it relates to certain communities.
Sandusky with a history of questionable and inappropriate interactions with young boys was allowed to continue his work with the nonprofit organization The Second Mile. This gave Sandusky “American Idol interview”- like access to a continuous stream of vulnerable young boys. Hello? This is like allowing R Kelly to be a celebrity judge for Toddlers and Tiaras. The Second Mile describes its mission as being committed to underprivileged youth in Pennsylvania. Remember Dr. Watkins’ code words?
I have to put this into perspective: Organizations like The Second Mile exist because there are so many absent fathers. Predators who should be keeping children safe are using their institutions and authority to prey upon the weak. How you doing Bishop Eddie Long?
If anything comes of this scandal and others then it could be a wake-up call to a community to step up and take ownership of our youth. Do not get me wrong: I am not blaming the victims — but calling upon the men that are ultimately responsible for them being here.
I am a dog owner and lover. I also remember how vehemently society and key organizations went after Michael Vick for his mistreatment of animals. I also do not condone Vicks actions. However, I do not want to believe that as a society, we rank our emotional investment in our youth based on ideals like race, class and gender or that we would not react as passionately in reaction to a pit bull being abused as we would to say an “at-risk” youth.
But if the historical laissez faire approach to investigating Sandusky is any indication, then the said truth is that I would not treat a dog like some of these young victims have been treated.
I am curious about your take on this scandal. Are the facts clearly black and white?
Can we let kids be kids and celebrate a relatively harmless holiday?
Halloween used to be fun. Enough with the politically correct “fall festivals.” It sounds like kids should be running around in Renaissance costumes eating giant turkey legs.
I know some parents are concerned about some of the pagan symbols, but aren’t we overreacting just a bit?
I was recently guest host with my girl Ramona Holloway and the crew of “The Satisfied Life,” and one of the subjects we discussed was a movement by some religious groups to start “Jesusween.” Really people? How many disciple costumes can you wear without becoming redundant? Would you pass out grape juice boxes and crackers instead of candy? Also, Jesus already has a holiday; it’s called Christmas.
Things were so much simpler back in the day. You could actually go out unescorted without mace, cell phone, GPS or a poison kit. You knew you were close to Halloween when they aired “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.”
When I was growing up, you went to Kmart and picked from maybe three boxed costumes -- a ghost, and witch or wolf man. The costumes were made from flimsy material that had to kept away from open flames, and the plastic masks would impeded both your direct and peripheral vision while also blocking appropriate airflow to breathe. Now throw in a cheap pumpkin bucket. We were tossed out the door to scavenge the neighborhood for candy corn…sweating, visually impaired and gasping for air.
A few years ago I spent Halloween with my sister in Atlanta. She is like my Mom and went all out and had the porch done with festive and spooky decorations. We settled in our rocking chairs with candy bowls for what we thought would be a calm night. Not!
The evening started out somewhat subdued as the very young babies came around with their parents in adorable little cow, sheep and lion costumes. Then all of a sudden, guys were organized and focused like Halloween ninjas. They dispensed with any historic rituals or Halloween etiquette. There was no singsong “Trick or Treat.” They just bum rushed your house, trampling grass and plants and stuck out their bags like a gaggle of baby albatross waiting to be fed.
The groups would then flee, screaming to the other Halloween ninjas about what type of candy you were dishing out. Another group would then descend with the same disregard for holiday ritual. Every now and then you would get the “rooters.” These were kids who had the audacity to root around your candy bowl as if they were looking for a Cracker Jack prize. One kid even looked up at me with attitude and asked, “Is this all you got?” I told him there was a ham in the refrigerator and asked if he’d like to come in and make a sandwich? My sarcasm was lost as he fled our porch to offend some other home.
The next group was the older kids who did not dress up but came to your door with a pillowcase. I was like, are they trick or treating or casing the house for electronics? (Side note: If you shave, have a drivers license and pay into a 401K, then you might be too old to be out trick or treating.)
Then you had the drive-by trick or treaters. They would cruise the neighborhood, open the door and dozens of kids would empty out like they were in circus clown car. These were the people who were too lazy to park, get out and walk with their kids. This is why we have so many obese youth. Would it kill you to walk around a bit on a nice fall night with your child for some fun and exercise?
Atlanta is one of those cities where the neighborhoods can go from pricey homes where my sister lived to the hood in just a few blocks. My favorite visitors were the round-the-way moms who would come from the other neighborhood, talk on the phone the entire time, would not speak to you and were escorting their kids in homemade costumes. One poor kid had to suffer the embarrassment of being a ghost in a sheet with tulips on it. I know his pain; I had my share of pitiful costumes growing up…lol.
The night was a whirlwind of kids rushing up and down my sister’s porch and her babbling about a real spider in her hedges that she thought was incredible, but the novelty was lost on the bewildered kids who only looked at her like she was crazy…lol. The night was getting late and the crowds had thinned so we decided to close shop. It had really been one crazy evening. Thank goodness for my girl, Chardonnay, hanging out with us or I may not have gotten through the evening….lol.
We turned off the lights and retired to the den to watch some television and monster movies, but an hour later people were still ringing the doorbell. Why would you walk up to a dark house with no lights and ring the doorbell? It is 11:30 at night. These are no longer Trick or Treaters but most likely candidates for a home invasion.
My sister and I for the rest of the night reminisced about Halloween as kids and laughed at those cherished moments of pretend. So are we being too serious about Halloween? I would like for you to share your Halloween memories, opinions or pet peeves…smile.
This is the latest in the Professor Locs "On the Yard" series. I was stuck in registration hell so this was my way of coping....lol. I am still searching for a character with actual locks...lol. Enjoy!
I know the title sounds like a scandalous collection of maybe closeted actors from the silent era, but they are actually animated shorts with racially charged images.
In 1968, United Artists made a stash of Warner Bros. cartoons available for television, but due to the politics of the era they withheld 11 that were deemed unfit for broadcast because of their racist content. Those 11 shorts, including one of the most infamous titles, “Coal Black and de Sebben Dwarfs” (this is not a typo but historically accurate Ebonics), were essentially locked away in a vault for decades
I find this topic fascinating for multiple reasons. You guys know that when I am not fighting crime as a columnist, I chair a film program. The debate on the release of the Censored 11 is ongoing with passionate stances on both sides. Some argue that these films are extremely racist and should never see the light of day. Others argue that this is part of the history of animation and should be studied as an important era in this art form.
I tend to lean toward the later.
Birth of a Nation is one of the most racist films ever made, yet its director, D. W. Griffith, is still hailed as the Father of Film in most traditional film programs. I have shown this film to students but used the opportunity as a teachable moment to discuss others who also contributed to the genre – people like filmmakers Oscar Micheaux, an African-American who produced films around the same time as Griffith.
The real question is, what statement are we trying to make as a society by trying to censor historically racist content?
There was a similar debate earlier this year during television episode of “The View.” Apparently there was a forthcoming edition of Mark Twain's “Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” that replaces the N-word with the word "slave."
Whoopi Goldberg was incensed. “When you read Huck Finn, and you read the relationship between Huck and Jim -- who Huck does not see as anything but his running buddy -- it is an extraordinary story," she said.
Whoopi basically believed that the editor had no right to tamper with a classic.
Can we apply the same editing to most rap lyrics that refer to women as bit---s and replace that with diva? Are we prepared for this line of censorship? If we go down that road, then we could witness the demise of BET, The Source Awards, Little Wayne and the entire series of “Basketball Wives.”
I don’t know about you but I am much more concerned with contemporary references. I believe part of the problem is that our youth have no historical concept of how these stereotypes and derogatory images are so insidiously entrenched in our culture and how they continue to have negative implications.
Case in point: One of my African-American male students asked me to review a short script for a class assignment. His script included themes exploring thug behavior, crime, a disdain for education and copious amounts of the “n” word thrown in for good measure.
My first reaction was to assess the logistics of delivering an open-hand slap to the mouth without leaving a visible mark for future witnesses. I instead took a deep breath and asked him several pointed questions.
Do you act like this? Do you speak like this? Do you hang around other people who conduct themselves this way? He sheepishly answered no to all of the above.
I continued, “So you don’t talk this way or act this way or interact with people who conduct themselves this way. So why, when given an opportunity to tell any story of you’re choosing, did you opt to write about such clichéd and stereotypical characters?”
He had no answer, but I did.
This young brother is a perfect example of how historical stereotypes continue to have contemporary negative connotations. The real nefarious power of racism is that the oppressed begin to consume, believe and eventually portray the same negative ideology without question or examination.
So I say let’s open the vaults and inspect these dusty distressing artifacts in the hope that they provide a keener insight into where we come from, who we are and maybe what we can ultimately achieve. What say you?
You guys remember that Long, pastor of the mega flock New Birth Missionary Baptist Church, has been shrouded in scandal ever since several young male members of his congregation come forward with allegations of sexual misconduct. Long agreed to settle their lawsuits out of court to put the matter to rest.
Apparently the hush money was not enough, because some of Long’s accusers are speaking out…and Long wants his money back.
The bishop reportedly paid about $1 million in settlement money. I guess that is the standard rate for taking the innocence of several young males.
I wonder if Target has a similar exchange policy: “Hi, I want to get a refund on this suit that I stole, wore to a wild bachelor party and damaged. And do you think I could get that in cash?”
Did Long really think a few thousand dollars would be enough to buy the silence of those young men forever?
I grew up in the church and was fortunate that many of my male mentors honored their roles as spiritual leaders and surrogate father. It is unfortunate that these young men did not enjoy a similar relationship with Long.
Jamal Parris, one of Long’s accusers, told an Atlanta TV station that he loved Long as a father figure but considered him a “monster” and a “predator.”
"I loved him,” the young man said, “and I'm always going to have love for the things he taught us, but how he left us hurt is worse than anything I ever felt in my life.”
These young men are obviously deeply scarred, and part of their healing is to speak out and tell their side of the story. They say the truth shall set you free. A few of the young men are planning to write a tell-all book, to which the bishop issued the following statement:
“Unfortunately, we are in the media again and people are wondering what I am going to say. All parties involved decided to resolve the civil cases out of court. The decision was made to bring closure to this matter and allow us to move forward with the plans God has for this ministry."
You must remember that Long has been a vehement crusader against gay marriage and homosexuality, so the hypocrisy of this situation is deplorable. Regardless of where you stand on gay folks, the plain truth is this: Long’s sexuality is not the issue but rather his absolute abuse power and authority as a mentor and spiritual leader.
And to add insult to injury, we have yet another mega preacher co-signing Long’s behavior: Enter Creflo “Holla If You Hear Me” Dollar, who was recently taped in one of his sermons scolding Long’s flock, trivializing Long’s sexual misconduct and telling members who are fleeing Long’s church that they are not welcome in his congregation.
How is that for a great Christian attitude?
I found the video below and was truly disturbed. No wonder people turn away from organized religion, and no, I did not say “God.” Here we have two high-profile ministers who seem to be co-signing unscrupulous behavior, scolding their congregations for daring to hold them to a higher standard.
Should we not look to our leaders, especially our spiritual leaders, to set an example? It is sad that church, a place that represented an extended family and a safe refuge when I was growing up, has today become the playground for men who think their high-profile status gives them absolute autonomy.
Please review the video and tell me what you see. Men of God or pimps in the pulpit?
Considering that so much of what I write about is couched in laughter, I was conflicted about writing a column this week. You see, today is my mother’s birthday. I lost my mother in 2008 to cancer.
Those of you who have lost a parent know that, regardless of how old you are, it still feels like, on some level, you are an orphan. While I acknowledge the day she left us, I choose each year to celebrate her birthday. Why? Because it is her birth, life and memories that bring me solace.
Robby, my mom, was a true diva. She carried herself like a lady and modeled that behavior for my sisters and other young women in our family. She enjoyed family and lived to host a great party or get together. People say I have a distinct laugh, but hers was truly uplifting and infectious. You see, laughter for us was like an old lazy chair -- it made our home comfortable and familiar.
My mom faced some serious challenges as a young mother. I saw her struggle, so my job, at a very early age, was to make my mom laugh. I believe I developed my sense of humor mainly to distract my Mom from the hard times and to also keep from getting my butt beat…lol.
Robby was the daughter of a minister and was blessed with an incredible singing voice. When I was younger, I did not know or like the effect she had on people when she sang in church. (You know, all the hollering and shouting…smile.) It was not until I was a little older that I truly understood and appreciated her gift. She was not a church fanatic, but she raised us in a very spiritually based environment.
Robby was not a saint, by any means…smile. She was a single, working mother and fiercely independent. She did things her own way and was kind of a militant…lol. She grew up during segregation, but that did not diminish her expectation for a better life for herself and her children.
My Mom was also a taskmaster. She expected all of us to contribute to the household; no entitlement issues here, people. A typical Saturday morning started with my Mom interrupting my Saturday morning cartoons and yelling for us to get up, straighten our rooms, get breakfast and clean the house.
The fun did not stop there. Since I was the oldest, I would then be dropped off with multiple bundles of clothes and rolls of quarters at the Laundromat, like some Las Vegas refugee. (This was back when you could actually leave a kid unsupervised without GPS, cell phone or mace.)
Even on a tight budget, she made sure our home was comfortable -- we had clean clothes, hot meals and managed weekly cultural outings and yearly family vacations. (A benefit of having a big family is you are able to travel and stay with folks, thus allowing you to visit exciting places like Magic Mountain, Lion Country Safari and even Disneyland.)
I continue to see my Mother’s contributions in various aspects of her family. I see so much of her wisdom in what I do as an educator. My youngest sister has her gift of song. My middle sister has her independent spirit and creativity. I became a great-uncle last week and I see my mother in her first great-grandbaby, who I know she would have spoiled and cherished.
When I see how many young people suffer without appropriate matriarchs in their lives, I am grateful for having had such a beautiful, caring and talented woman in mine.
My sisters and I were with my mom in her last days. I was fortunate as her firstborn and only son to hold her hand and be with her as her spirit transcended her body and she took her last breath. A part of me departed with her in that moment, but I keep the best parts of her with me…until we see each other again and embrace in a melodious duet of expressive joy.
They say time heals all things, and to some degree that is true. I grieve a little less. A song, picture or even a scent brings forth more smiles than tears now.
I would like to share a tribute (below) that I created for my Mom for her 60th birthday.
I challenge all of us to uniquely celebrate and honor those we love while they are here. I know I am not the only one who has lost a loved one, and although it is difficult at times, we must remember that we keep them alive and with us through our memories, rituals and, yes, when we are ready again, our laughter.
When the rug is pulled from under us
A question of character with Herman Cain