Comment On Ya Bhutto:
In terms of policy implications, this is reflective of a massive US foreign policy blunder, in that the Bush administration, in a monumentally stupid move, shoved Bhutto down the throat of Musharraf (and the rest of Pakistan) as a savior, despite her lack of broad popular support and general reputation as corrupt. In making someone who didn’t necessarily have the ability to deliver the savior for democracy in Pakistan, Bush simultaneously set up his own policy to fail and offered Musharraf a return to (or continued) total power in the event that his little power-sharing arrangement didn’t work. He painted a big fat target on her back. Really a debacle all the way around.
But more importantly, Bhutto was a classic example of someone who who was educated and groomed to function on behalf of the White supremacy power system; like so many of our elected politicians, including Obama and so many African leaders. It's the classic sheep dog mentality who was raised to protect sheep, not for his own food supply but for the benefit of his master. So when his brothers (who have not been programmed) come to eat, he attacks them.
There is a lesson in this for Black people. Take time to deeply study one's history to better serve one's people; else one will be confused about their priorities, their enemy, and what is important.
Olushola
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Benazir Bhutto
1953-2007
Ya, Bhutto
Who are these people
Who kill fathers sons daughters
What God do they serve
What ghost in the night
Is there money enough
Power enough
Greed enough
Murder enough
To satisfy this beast
Who devours all in its path
The children of the poor are not safe
Even children of the rich
This monster is vile
His teeth a wicked bite
Snatching you like Godzilla
When you came home preaching freedom
But there are those who cry freedom
But mean slavery of yesterday
There are those who pray in the mosque
Then murder in the street
who crush the spirit
Who silence the poets
The singers of freedom
Who deny the humanity of women
What God is this
Who empowers these devils with lust
and venom
Worse than the cobra’s sting
Ya Bhutto
What now in that sacred land
Shall your sons take the mantle
Shall the children cower in fear
Or will they stand
face the guns bombs
Paid by the Mighty Beast
Who shouts democracy
But means slavery
Who allows dictators to crush opposition
To be president for life.
He discards his general uniform
To dawn the suit and tie of Shaitan
To claim the persona of the puppet
Who smiles in tears
Choking from strings hanging from his neck.
Ya, Bhutto, you tried
To bring a better day
But demons must play out their drama
Their dance in the night
They will never put down their butcher knives
Never turn into Buddha heads.
More must be sacrificed
The judges and lawyers are not enough
The soldiers must accept flowers from the people
Not slaughter them in the streets
There are not jails enough to confine freedom
The torture chambers may fill to overflow
But freedom must rise at the end of the day.
Ya, Bhutto, your last word was the magic word: Allah.
Surely we are from Allah
And to Him we return.
--M
12/28/07
Plato, Part Two: Youth Make History On The Streets Of Oakland
Oakland youth have been much maligned lately for their violent behavior, low test scores and high drop out rate. But they made history recently when four of them gathered around Oakland’s street corner philosopher Plato, aka Marvin X. He gave them each a copy of the Oakland Post newspaper containing an article he wrote on condom use in prison and how it affects the wider community when former inmates are released, driving up the HIV/AIDS infection rate, especially among black women. Plato thought the youth would take the paper and continue down the street, but instead they stood around reading. Plato was shocked at the sight before his eyes: four youth standing on the corner reading a newspaper. What is wrong with this picture, he wondered to himself—actually, it was a beautiful sight, even though he wanted them to leave so he could return to selling his books, but after reading the article they remained nearly an hour to discuss it with the street teacher. This picture of them belies everything said about them: that they have no desire to learn because it is acting white. Perhaps their interest was held because the article related to them, to their lifestyle and culture. And maybe if the educational system would focus on teaching with a cultural sensitive approach, the drop out rate would decline. Johnny can and will read if you give him something worth reading, i.e., that can hold his attention in a world full of distractions.
__________
Dr. Marvin X will facilitate the next session of the Pan African Mental Health Peer Group to Recover from the Addiction to White Supremacy (he authored a book by the same title), on Saturday, January 12, 4-6pm at the Berkeley Black Repertory Group Theatre, 3201 Adeline Street, Berkeley, one block south of the Ashby BART station.
Call 510-355-6339 for more information. Visit his blog: www.marvinxwrites.blogspot.com, or email him at: mrvnx@yahoo.com
1953-2007
Ya, Bhutto
Who are these people
Who kill fathers sons daughters
What God do they serve
What ghost in the night
Is there money enough
Power enough
Greed enough
Murder enough
To satisfy this beast
Who devours all in its path
The children of the poor are not safe
Even children of the rich
This monster is vile
His teeth a wicked bite
Snatching you like Godzilla
When you came home preaching freedom
But there are those who cry freedom
But mean slavery of yesterday
There are those who pray in the mosque
Then murder in the street
who crush the spirit
Who silence the poets
The singers of freedom
Who deny the humanity of women
What God is this
Who empowers these devils with lust
and venom
Worse than the cobra’s sting
Ya Bhutto
What now in that sacred land
Shall your sons take the mantle
Shall the children cower in fear
Or will they stand
face the guns bombs
Paid by the Mighty Beast
Who shouts democracy
But means slavery
Who allows dictators to crush opposition
To be president for life.
He discards his general uniform
To dawn the suit and tie of Shaitan
To claim the persona of the puppet
Who smiles in tears
Choking from strings hanging from his neck.
Ya, Bhutto, you tried
To bring a better day
But demons must play out their drama
Their dance in the night
They will never put down their butcher knives
Never turn into Buddha heads.
More must be sacrificed
The judges and lawyers are not enough
The soldiers must accept flowers from the people
Not slaughter them in the streets
There are not jails enough to confine freedom
The torture chambers may fill to overflow
But freedom must rise at the end of the day.
Ya, Bhutto, your last word was the magic word: Allah.
Surely we are from Allah
And to Him we return.
--M
12/28/07
Plato, Part Two: Youth Make History On The Streets Of Oakland
Oakland youth have been much maligned lately for their violent behavior, low test scores and high drop out rate. But they made history recently when four of them gathered around Oakland’s street corner philosopher Plato, aka Marvin X. He gave them each a copy of the Oakland Post newspaper containing an article he wrote on condom use in prison and how it affects the wider community when former inmates are released, driving up the HIV/AIDS infection rate, especially among black women. Plato thought the youth would take the paper and continue down the street, but instead they stood around reading. Plato was shocked at the sight before his eyes: four youth standing on the corner reading a newspaper. What is wrong with this picture, he wondered to himself—actually, it was a beautiful sight, even though he wanted them to leave so he could return to selling his books, but after reading the article they remained nearly an hour to discuss it with the street teacher. This picture of them belies everything said about them: that they have no desire to learn because it is acting white. Perhaps their interest was held because the article related to them, to their lifestyle and culture. And maybe if the educational system would focus on teaching with a cultural sensitive approach, the drop out rate would decline. Johnny can and will read if you give him something worth reading, i.e., that can hold his attention in a world full of distractions.
__________
Dr. Marvin X will facilitate the next session of the Pan African Mental Health Peer Group to Recover from the Addiction to White Supremacy (he authored a book by the same title), on Saturday, January 12, 4-6pm at the Berkeley Black Repertory Group Theatre, 3201 Adeline Street, Berkeley, one block south of the Ashby BART station.
Call 510-355-6339 for more information. Visit his blog: www.marvinxwrites.blogspot.com, or email him at: mrvnx@yahoo.com
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Dr. J. Vern Cromartie On Tookie Williams Essay by Dr. M
Brother Marvin,
Once again, you have provided insightful analysis of
the social conditions faced by Black people in the
Amerikkka. Your essays, poetry, plays, and
autobiographical statements have certainly enhanced my
understanding of Black life in this country and
elsewhere. As I have told you before, I have been
reading your work since about 1968 when I was 14
year-old Geechee in Georgia. Yes, your work had
penetrated the South in the 1960s and young Black
people there were studying your words.
As for your remarks about Stanley Tookie Williams, you
are right on time! I participated in the protest
demonstration on November 10, 2005 at San Quentin
wherein we made our voices heard that we opposed the
death penalty for Tookie (and all others on Death
Row). I also participated in the vigil outside San
Quentin in the early hours of December 13, 2005 when
the killers of the State took Tookie's life. As a
college professor and former student of yours, I want
you to know that Tookie's book, "Blue Rage, Black
Redemption," is one of the best books I have ever read
in my life. Tookie's analysis of Black-on-Black crime
deserves to be read by everyone. In my view, Tookie
clearly went through a process of redemption wherein
he transformed himself from a street thug to a
conscious Black man concerned with the liberation of
Black people from oppression and exploitation. Long
live the memory of Tookie!
I want to close by saying I believe that the
cold-blooded murder of Alprentice Bunchy Carter left a
leadership void in Los Angeles. Bunchy, who was a
former leader of a street gang called the Slausons,
abandoned gang banging and became an outstanding
leader of the Black Panther Party, one the most
important social movements Black people have ever
created in this coutry. Bunchy was able to politicize
and raise the consciousness of many youth in Los
Angeles. Upon Bunchy's death, the Black Panther Party
lost a tremendous leader and young people in Los
Angeles lost a person who could raise the
consciousness of gang bangers. Unfortunately, that
void was soon filled by unconscious leaders like
Raymond Washington and the old Tookie. I am glad that
Tookie changed. I wish that it had been sooner. What
if all those Crips had become cadre in the Black
Panther Party under Bunchy's leadership? I am sure
that the Glass House and COINTELPRO considered the
possibilities and went to some dastardly work!
Yours in solidarity,
J. Vern Cromartie
Brother Marvin,
Once again, you have provided insightful analysis of
the social conditions faced by Black people in the
Amerikkka. Your essays, poetry, plays, and
autobiographical statements have certainly enhanced my
understanding of Black life in this country and
elsewhere. As I have told you before, I have been
reading your work since about 1968 when I was 14
year-old Geechee in Georgia. Yes, your work had
penetrated the South in the 1960s and young Black
people there were studying your words.
As for your remarks about Stanley Tookie Williams, you
are right on time! I participated in the protest
demonstration on November 10, 2005 at San Quentin
wherein we made our voices heard that we opposed the
death penalty for Tookie (and all others on Death
Row). I also participated in the vigil outside San
Quentin in the early hours of December 13, 2005 when
the killers of the State took Tookie's life. As a
college professor and former student of yours, I want
you to know that Tookie's book, "Blue Rage, Black
Redemption," is one of the best books I have ever read
in my life. Tookie's analysis of Black-on-Black crime
deserves to be read by everyone. In my view, Tookie
clearly went through a process of redemption wherein
he transformed himself from a street thug to a
conscious Black man concerned with the liberation of
Black people from oppression and exploitation. Long
live the memory of Tookie!
I want to close by saying I believe that the
cold-blooded murder of Alprentice Bunchy Carter left a
leadership void in Los Angeles. Bunchy, who was a
former leader of a street gang called the Slausons,
abandoned gang banging and became an outstanding
leader of the Black Panther Party, one the most
important social movements Black people have ever
created in this coutry. Bunchy was able to politicize
and raise the consciousness of many youth in Los
Angeles. Upon Bunchy's death, the Black Panther Party
lost a tremendous leader and young people in Los
Angeles lost a person who could raise the
consciousness of gang bangers. Unfortunately, that
void was soon filled by unconscious leaders like
Raymond Washington and the old Tookie. I am glad that
Tookie changed. I wish that it had been sooner. What
if all those Crips had become cadre in the Black
Panther Party under Bunchy's leadership? I am sure
that the Glass House and COINTELPRO considered the
possibilities and went to some dastardly work!
Yours in solidarity,
J. Vern Cromartie
Regarding Dr. M's Essay: Tookie Williams and the American Culture of Violence
See Beyond Religion, Toward Spirituality by Dr. M
Tookie Williams and the American Culture of Violence should be read by everyone, youth & elders. Powerful piece of information. Tookie is a product of his environment. We all play a part of the environment, whether we write the song, sing the song, sing back up to it, or pretend the song does not exist. No man is an island. Life is a learning experience. You kept it real.
A lot of times, people do not want to hear the real because of guilt, ignorance or fantasy living.
Though many African Americans are not imprisoned in buildings, they are imprisoned in their minds, in the economics of White America and while striving to be and have what America has--what they consider successful and the social norm because of violence. Violence is not always in the form of guns, knives, nuclear weapons. There are degrees of violence. But most importantly of all, violence is violence. Not hiring an African American who is qualified and a citizen because he is black is violent. * Violence is abusive, unjust use of power.*
May God bless your works and anoint your thoughts and words, that you may be of help to others.
Shirley Thomas
See Beyond Religion, Toward Spirituality by Dr. M
Tookie Williams and the American Culture of Violence should be read by everyone, youth & elders. Powerful piece of information. Tookie is a product of his environment. We all play a part of the environment, whether we write the song, sing the song, sing back up to it, or pretend the song does not exist. No man is an island. Life is a learning experience. You kept it real.
A lot of times, people do not want to hear the real because of guilt, ignorance or fantasy living.
Though many African Americans are not imprisoned in buildings, they are imprisoned in their minds, in the economics of White America and while striving to be and have what America has--what they consider successful and the social norm because of violence. Violence is not always in the form of guns, knives, nuclear weapons. There are degrees of violence. But most importantly of all, violence is violence. Not hiring an African American who is qualified and a citizen because he is black is violent. * Violence is abusive, unjust use of power.*
May God bless your works and anoint your thoughts and words, that you may be of help to others.
Shirley Thomas
RIP, Mother Rosa Parks
Our Great Mother sat
so we could stand
She knew we were tired
tired of being sick and tired
she sat. still. quiet. at peace
with herself
for the many thousands gone
thousands and millions
full of fear and trembling
afraid to demand a seat on the bus to freedom
so she sat that day in '55
half century ago. seems like a million years.
Mother gave birth to generation revolution
even a little King followed Mother's dress tail
to freedom. self-determination. a nation.
Remember Mother Rosa
in your joy times remember
in your moments of weakness fear remember
when you cross the river freedom remember
how she sat on the bus in the dirty south
so you could stand. fly into a better world.
--Marvin X
10-25-05
Our Great Mother sat
so we could stand
She knew we were tired
tired of being sick and tired
she sat. still. quiet. at peace
with herself
for the many thousands gone
thousands and millions
full of fear and trembling
afraid to demand a seat on the bus to freedom
so she sat that day in '55
half century ago. seems like a million years.
Mother gave birth to generation revolution
even a little King followed Mother's dress tail
to freedom. self-determination. a nation.
Remember Mother Rosa
in your joy times remember
in your moments of weakness fear remember
when you cross the river freedom remember
how she sat on the bus in the dirty south
so you could stand. fly into a better world.
--Marvin X
10-25-05
Book Review: In the Crazy House Called America
Marvin X Offers A Healing Peek Into His Psyche
Junious Ricardo Stanton
Rarely is a brother secure and honest enough with himself to reveal his
innermost thoughts, emotions or his most hellacious life experiences. For
most men it would be a monumental feat just to share/bare his soul with his
closest friends but to do so to perfect strangers would be unthinkable,
unless he had gone through the fires of life and emerged free of the dross
that tarnishes his soul. Marvin X, poet, playwright, author and essayist
does just that in a self-published book entitled In The Crazy House Called
America. This latest piece from Marvin X offers a peek into his soul and his
psyche. He lets the reader know he is hip to the rabid oppression the West
heaps upon people of color especially North American Africans while at the
same ! time revealing the knowledge gleaned from his days as a student
radical, black nationalist revolutionary forger of the Black Arts Movement,
husband, father lover, a dogger of women did not spare him the degradation
and agony of descending into the abyss of crack addiction, abusive and toxic
relationships and family tragedy. Perhaps because of the knowledge gained
as a member of the Nation of Islam, and his experiences as one of the prime
movers of the cultural revolution of the '60, the insights he shares In The
Crazy House Called America are all the keener. Marvin writes candidly of his
pain, bewilderment and depression of losing his son to suicide. He shares in
a very powerful way, his own out of body helplessness as he wallowed in the
dregs of an addiction that threatened to destroy his soul and the mess his
addictions made of his life and relationships with those he loved. But he is
not preachy and this is not an autobiography.! He has already been there and
done that. In sharing his story and the wisdom he has gleaned from his life
experiences and looking at the world through the eyes of an artist/healer,
Marvin X serves as a modern day shaman/juju man who in order to heal himself
and his people ventures into the spirit realm to confront the soul devouring
demons and mind pulverizing dragons; he is temporarily possessed by them,
heroically struggles to rebuke their power before they destroy him; which
enables him to return to this realm, tell us what it is like, prove
redemption is possible, thereby empowering himself/ us and helping to heal
us. He touches on a myriad of topics as he raps and writes about himself and
current events. Reading this book you know he knows what it is like to
come face to face with and do battle with the insanity and death this
society has in store for all Africans.
Marvin X talks about his sexual relations/dysfunction,! drugs, media and
free speech, sports, black political power or the lack thereof, the war on
drugs and the current War on Terrorism, nothing is off limits. He includes
reviews of music, theater as well as film, but not as some smarter/ holier
than thou, elitist observer. Marvin X writes as one actively engaged in
life, including its pain and suffering. He lets us know he was a willing and
active participant in his addiction, how it impacted his decision making,
his role as a parent, his male-female "relationships", his ability to be
creative within a movement to liberate African people and the world from the
corruption of Caucasian hegemony. Marvin X is in recovery and it has not
been easy for him. As a writer/healer he still has the voice of a
revolutionary poet/playwright, it is a voice we need to listen and pay
attention to. He has survived his own purgatory and emerged stronger and
more committed to life and saving his people. As North American Africans
his term to differentiate us from our continental and diasporic brethren)
he sees the toll the insanity of this culture takes on us. His culturally
induced self-destructive lifestyle choices and the death of his son is a
testament to how life threatening and lethal this society can be. But Marvin
X also talks about spiritual redemption, the ability to transcend even the
most horrific experiences with resiliency and determination so that one gets
a glimpse of one's own divine potential. This book is an easy read which
makes it all the more profound. In The Crazy House Called America is for
brothers especially. It is a book all black men should grab hold of and
digest, if for no other reason than to experience just how redemptively
healing and liberating being honest can be.
In the Crazy House Called America is available from Black Bird Press, 11132 Nelson Bar Road, Cherokee, CA 95965, $19.95. Contact Marvin X at: mrvnx@yahoo.com.
Marvin X Offers A Healing Peek Into His Psyche
Junious Ricardo Stanton
Rarely is a brother secure and honest enough with himself to reveal his
innermost thoughts, emotions or his most hellacious life experiences. For
most men it would be a monumental feat just to share/bare his soul with his
closest friends but to do so to perfect strangers would be unthinkable,
unless he had gone through the fires of life and emerged free of the dross
that tarnishes his soul. Marvin X, poet, playwright, author and essayist
does just that in a self-published book entitled In The Crazy House Called
America. This latest piece from Marvin X offers a peek into his soul and his
psyche. He lets the reader know he is hip to the rabid oppression the West
heaps upon people of color especially North American Africans while at the
same ! time revealing the knowledge gleaned from his days as a student
radical, black nationalist revolutionary forger of the Black Arts Movement,
husband, father lover, a dogger of women did not spare him the degradation
and agony of descending into the abyss of crack addiction, abusive and toxic
relationships and family tragedy. Perhaps because of the knowledge gained
as a member of the Nation of Islam, and his experiences as one of the prime
movers of the cultural revolution of the '60, the insights he shares In The
Crazy House Called America are all the keener. Marvin writes candidly of his
pain, bewilderment and depression of losing his son to suicide. He shares in
a very powerful way, his own out of body helplessness as he wallowed in the
dregs of an addiction that threatened to destroy his soul and the mess his
addictions made of his life and relationships with those he loved. But he is
not preachy and this is not an autobiography.! He has already been there and
done that. In sharing his story and the wisdom he has gleaned from his life
experiences and looking at the world through the eyes of an artist/healer,
Marvin X serves as a modern day shaman/juju man who in order to heal himself
and his people ventures into the spirit realm to confront the soul devouring
demons and mind pulverizing dragons; he is temporarily possessed by them,
heroically struggles to rebuke their power before they destroy him; which
enables him to return to this realm, tell us what it is like, prove
redemption is possible, thereby empowering himself/ us and helping to heal
us. He touches on a myriad of topics as he raps and writes about himself and
current events. Reading this book you know he knows what it is like to
come face to face with and do battle with the insanity and death this
society has in store for all Africans.
Marvin X talks about his sexual relations/dysfunction,! drugs, media and
free speech, sports, black political power or the lack thereof, the war on
drugs and the current War on Terrorism, nothing is off limits. He includes
reviews of music, theater as well as film, but not as some smarter/ holier
than thou, elitist observer. Marvin X writes as one actively engaged in
life, including its pain and suffering. He lets us know he was a willing and
active participant in his addiction, how it impacted his decision making,
his role as a parent, his male-female "relationships", his ability to be
creative within a movement to liberate African people and the world from the
corruption of Caucasian hegemony. Marvin X is in recovery and it has not
been easy for him. As a writer/healer he still has the voice of a
revolutionary poet/playwright, it is a voice we need to listen and pay
attention to. He has survived his own purgatory and emerged stronger and
more committed to life and saving his people. As North American Africans
his term to differentiate us from our continental and diasporic brethren)
he sees the toll the insanity of this culture takes on us. His culturally
induced self-destructive lifestyle choices and the death of his son is a
testament to how life threatening and lethal this society can be. But Marvin
X also talks about spiritual redemption, the ability to transcend even the
most horrific experiences with resiliency and determination so that one gets
a glimpse of one's own divine potential. This book is an easy read which
makes it all the more profound. In The Crazy House Called America is for
brothers especially. It is a book all black men should grab hold of and
digest, if for no other reason than to experience just how redemptively
healing and liberating being honest can be.
In the Crazy House Called America is available from Black Bird Press, 11132 Nelson Bar Road, Cherokee, CA 95965, $19.95. Contact Marvin X at: mrvnx@yahoo.com.
Note from Fahizah, On 2005 Book Tour
CONGRATULATIONS! Surely Allah is merciful. This trip must have been a great and reaffirming experience. You are certainly putting yourself on the front line, courageously and compassionately.
I went to Jummah last Friday, seeking to fellowship with the other fasting Muslims and hear a Khutbah in English during this month.
Bro Vernon Wali, a former drug addict and frequently institutionalized brother followed me out of the masjid and told me that he had read your book, given to him by another Muslim brother. He said it made him take such a hard look at himself and confront the truths about himself and his niggerish ways.
I guess you are a lot like Harriett Tubman, coming back to get your people and show them the way to escape the slavery of drug addiction and spiritual bondage. Keep on working it.
CONGRATULATIONS! Surely Allah is merciful. This trip must have been a great and reaffirming experience. You are certainly putting yourself on the front line, courageously and compassionately.
I went to Jummah last Friday, seeking to fellowship with the other fasting Muslims and hear a Khutbah in English during this month.
Bro Vernon Wali, a former drug addict and frequently institutionalized brother followed me out of the masjid and told me that he had read your book, given to him by another Muslim brother. He said it made him take such a hard look at himself and confront the truths about himself and his niggerish ways.
I guess you are a lot like Harriett Tubman, coming back to get your people and show them the way to escape the slavery of drug addiction and spiritual bondage. Keep on working it.
Monday, December 24, 2007
MARVIN X: The Bad Boy of Love
Comments on Poem for Unresolved Grief
From Fahizah:
This poem is So tender, true for me, and transcendent.
If you, the brash, brusque, bad boy of love can love, lose and
believe in love again, then so can I. So must I. Thank you.
--Fahizah Alim
From Bernadette:
I am not certain how these poems came to me but Thank you and Bless you. I will embrace and work toward resolving the Unresolved Grief inside of me....
--Bernadette Anderson
From Dr. Nathan Hare:
M,
You could be on to something here. Love and Hate, Id and Ego, Eros and Thanatos, each has a place. I don’t know that much about poetry, but as Hemingway said, “if it sounds good it is good.”
Sounds like the blues, which rap (despite an upfront spirit of resistance) doesn’t touch, its soul replaced by screeching and screaming.
The struggle continues.
NH
Comments on Poem for Unresolved Grief
From Fahizah:
This poem is So tender, true for me, and transcendent.
If you, the brash, brusque, bad boy of love can love, lose and
believe in love again, then so can I. So must I. Thank you.
--Fahizah Alim
From Bernadette:
I am not certain how these poems came to me but Thank you and Bless you. I will embrace and work toward resolving the Unresolved Grief inside of me....
--Bernadette Anderson
From Dr. Nathan Hare:
M,
You could be on to something here. Love and Hate, Id and Ego, Eros and Thanatos, each has a place. I don’t know that much about poetry, but as Hemingway said, “if it sounds good it is good.”
Sounds like the blues, which rap (despite an upfront spirit of resistance) doesn’t touch, its soul replaced by screeching and screaming.
The struggle continues.
NH
Sunday, December 23, 2007
A Poem for Unresolved Grief
Music: Distant Lover, Marvin Gaye
When thy lover has gone to eternity
When the touch is no longer there to feel in the night and in the day
The smile the walk the sweetness of body the kissing of lips breast and thigh
When thy lover has gone
A day we never imagine
For love blinds us to things not seen
But yet the day came like a cloud of thunder
Pouring down upon our head, drowning us in sorrow of the worse kind
We cannot walk but listen each day to
her voice message til we are taken away
And yet we want to hear for the last time the voice of love
For all the joy we shared the blending of two into one
The thinking of two into one
When thy lover has gone
We are worse than dead yet alive to suffer a pain no man can know
Who has never loved a true love we say we want but never get
But we have lived what few ever know the touch the feel the constant smile
When thy lover has gone
The earth opens for the mate as well
There are no tears enough
No silent moments to consider and get over matters of the heart
We are confined in the prison of life and wish to leave
For other worlds to see if we can meet again
The one so kind so true
But life keeps us here bound like slave to master
Yet we yearn for paradise for life is love and love has gone
desire is great and pain a mountain we cannot climb
We go to familiar places but are lost and cannot find the way home
We call a friend to pick us up
And take us there
And there we sit in stupor
thinking of the days when joy ruled our world
Now the joy has gone
never to return.
Lord help us through the day, help us through the night
It hurts to breathe
to think
to see a picture of our lover
We try until the night consumes us and we sleep
Hoping tomorrow will be a better day.
II
(Miles Davis, Kind of Blue)
To heal the missing part of you
To feel again the love of yesterday
To realize what is gone
cannot return
Flesh is frail
Spirit lives
In the day in the night
The challenge the task
To know we are spirit
Of the Great Spirit
We flow with the flow
Not the flesh, the body
Body a vessel of spirit
Never put faith in flesh
Enjoy the moment
Treasure seconds of the day
Romantic hours of the night
But surely the physical shall pass
Then what shall we do
confounded
Perplexed
depressed
Stuck against the wall
sitting like a frog on a lily pad
Flow in the flow of the Great River
Called life
Sail down the Nile, the Niger the Mighty Congo
Do not drown in sorrow
reality is transitory
Except the inner reality
The metaphysical
The macrocosmic truth inside of you
Love continues into the ancestor tree
Beyond the pain the sorrow the lost
Tears in the night
Love can be found again
If we try if we stand
As Rumi taught
reeds in the reed bed stand alone
Yet all together
The reed flute is a song of mourning
A yearning to return
Through the door of no return
Of grief sorrow pain
But the flute plays the song of joy
A communal chant in the sun
Sing and the world will bless you
Praise you
For your song of sorrow is gone
The healing complete
Live again and love
Reach out touch somebody
Breathe out the pain
Exhale the misery
Love is in the air
In the wind
It blows your way
Listen to your song in the wind
Listen to the sound of your flute.
--M
12/22/07
Music: Distant Lover, Marvin Gaye
When thy lover has gone to eternity
When the touch is no longer there to feel in the night and in the day
The smile the walk the sweetness of body the kissing of lips breast and thigh
When thy lover has gone
A day we never imagine
For love blinds us to things not seen
But yet the day came like a cloud of thunder
Pouring down upon our head, drowning us in sorrow of the worse kind
We cannot walk but listen each day to
her voice message til we are taken away
And yet we want to hear for the last time the voice of love
For all the joy we shared the blending of two into one
The thinking of two into one
When thy lover has gone
We are worse than dead yet alive to suffer a pain no man can know
Who has never loved a true love we say we want but never get
But we have lived what few ever know the touch the feel the constant smile
When thy lover has gone
The earth opens for the mate as well
There are no tears enough
No silent moments to consider and get over matters of the heart
We are confined in the prison of life and wish to leave
For other worlds to see if we can meet again
The one so kind so true
But life keeps us here bound like slave to master
Yet we yearn for paradise for life is love and love has gone
desire is great and pain a mountain we cannot climb
We go to familiar places but are lost and cannot find the way home
We call a friend to pick us up
And take us there
And there we sit in stupor
thinking of the days when joy ruled our world
Now the joy has gone
never to return.
Lord help us through the day, help us through the night
It hurts to breathe
to think
to see a picture of our lover
We try until the night consumes us and we sleep
Hoping tomorrow will be a better day.
II
(Miles Davis, Kind of Blue)
To heal the missing part of you
To feel again the love of yesterday
To realize what is gone
cannot return
Flesh is frail
Spirit lives
In the day in the night
The challenge the task
To know we are spirit
Of the Great Spirit
We flow with the flow
Not the flesh, the body
Body a vessel of spirit
Never put faith in flesh
Enjoy the moment
Treasure seconds of the day
Romantic hours of the night
But surely the physical shall pass
Then what shall we do
confounded
Perplexed
depressed
Stuck against the wall
sitting like a frog on a lily pad
Flow in the flow of the Great River
Called life
Sail down the Nile, the Niger the Mighty Congo
Do not drown in sorrow
reality is transitory
Except the inner reality
The metaphysical
The macrocosmic truth inside of you
Love continues into the ancestor tree
Beyond the pain the sorrow the lost
Tears in the night
Love can be found again
If we try if we stand
As Rumi taught
reeds in the reed bed stand alone
Yet all together
The reed flute is a song of mourning
A yearning to return
Through the door of no return
Of grief sorrow pain
But the flute plays the song of joy
A communal chant in the sun
Sing and the world will bless you
Praise you
For your song of sorrow is gone
The healing complete
Live again and love
Reach out touch somebody
Breathe out the pain
Exhale the misery
Love is in the air
In the wind
It blows your way
Listen to your song in the wind
Listen to the sound of your flute.
--M
12/22/07
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Dope, Mamas and Preachers
In West Africa and the Atlantic Slave Trade, a monograph published before his great work, HOW EUROPE UNDERDEVELOPED AFRICA, the late Dr. Walter Rodney explained the dire social situation as Africa entered the slave trade. He told how all institutions contributed to our downfall: the political, economic, judicial, military, and religious institutions played their role in the destruction of African society.
The rulers, kings and queens, in the words of a Baraka poem, “Sold the farmer to the ghost….” The king and his military, those noble warriors, often engaged in mock battles with neighboring kings and their peoples, then divided the spoils of war (the people) between themselves; of course the “spoils” were sold to European slavers. Rodney told how the judicial system was corrupted with false charges and false evidence to enslave the victims. Persons were falsely charged with adultery and of course the sentence was slavery or sale to the Europeans. From a previous society with no jails and peace in the streets, the time came when all were fearful of being kidnapped. No more peace in the streets, in the villages, but chaos reigned. One tribe could no longer trust another tribe; one person could not trust another.
In America today, we find ourselves in a similar situation. The Arabs use the term “ya’um jahiliyah” (days of ignorance) to designate the historical time before the prophet when all was chaos, murder, revenge killing, tribal warfare, assassination, kidnapping, highway robbery of caravans, quite similar to West Africa before the slave trade or Maafa (great tragedy). But what we have in America is not only business as usual white supremacy, but an expeditious return to slavery times, especially with the involuntary servitude of the jailed and imprisoned, with over 50% of the population African and Latino, the majority Africans incarcerated for minor drug crimes such as small amounts of crack cocaine; with a great percentage of inmates found guilty due to information or mis-information from snitches (give up three people and you go free is the mantra here in the Bay Area of Cali). Is this not similar to the judicial corruption Dr. Rodney described in West Africa? Nowhere is safe these days, the Mall, the Church, the schools, colleges and universities, the workplaces, the social clubs. In Oakland, nearly all clubs for North American Africans have closed due to violence inside or outside the establishments.
Youth gangs have adults living in terror, afraid to go to the store. Several youth have been carjacked and murdered to obtain rims. Antar Bey, the young CEO of Your Black Muslim Bakery (now closed since the murder of journalist Chauncey Bailey), was killed to obtain the five thousand dollar rims on his BMW.
And while the church marches and prays to stop the violence, it too has been corrupted by the general chaos in the hood. Sometimes it says nothing about drugs and violence because it is often the beneficiary of mothers who support the church with funds from children involved in the drug trade. One sister said if the church talked about drugs it would have no congregation since so much of its income is from tithes derived from the criminal activity of children whose mothers are church going women. One sister told me these women are essentially pimping their children, then cry when Dante is murdered, swearing he was a good child who did no wrong. When in fact Dante was one of the biggest dope dealers in the hood, who lavished material goods upon his mother.
We recall a church mother who took drugs to her sons in prison contained in baby diapers. And recently we were informed parents can no longer bring home cooked meals to juvenile hall because they were hiding drugs in the food. Yes, even mother is guilty of participating in the chaos and corruption of modern day slavery.
Prostitution is on the rise since the drug trade has lead to the incarceration of so many males. Girls eleven, twelve and thirteen can be found whoring on Oakland’s International Blvd, and they are indeed international, representing every ethnic group and multiracial configuration.
The sad truth is that America has never separated itself completely from its slave past; it merely progressed into virtual slavery of segregation, then wage slavery of the civil rights era. Globalism insures the continuation of virtual slavery with the capitalist desire for cheap wages and natural resources. To obtain and maintain their thousand per cent profits, the imperialists will insist on minimum wages and prices for natural resources. The hopeful sign is the nationalization of resources by the leftist governments throughout the Americas, throwing a monkey wrench in the continued exploitation and robbery of their peoples.
North American Africans seem oblivious to events below their border, aside from joining with the capitalists in their attempt to stem the tide of immigration from the south caused by centuries of Yankee imperialism. The American Blacks are in the main ignorant of the revolution throughout the Americas, in Bolivia, Nicaragua, Venezuela, Argentina, Chile, Brazil, Peru and elsewhere.
While they are glued to the insanity of B.E.T. television, peoples throughout the Americas are taking charge of their destiny, kicking out the bloodthirsty imperialists and their reactionary collaborators.
We must come quickly to the realization that our freedom is connected with other people throughout the Americas, with whom we are connected by blood, sweat and tears.
The poor peasants who cultivate the coca plants are victims as well, for they derive little profit for their labor under the sun. We cannot get angry with them but it is upon us to have the discipline to resist the dope when it reaches our cities, for medication is not the solution, rather we must resist oppression not submit to it by medicating ourselves into oblivion, additionally becoming victims of the criminal justice system, then clients of the billion dollar racist pseudo-recovery industry. Yes, the same white racists who deliver the dope, offer to deliver you from the dope, especially with the new harm reduction model that says keep using dope, just do so in a controlled manner. Don’t stop being a wage slave, take a bath and make love to your mate, and don’t abuse your children, but keep taking your dope, and keep coming back to recovery—after all, we make as much money off the recovery business as from addicting the population.
Of course the real solution is a revolution in consciousness, then in society, yes, the destruction of all white supremacy institutions that are harmful and dangerous to our health and the health of humanity in general.
Politicians, preachers and teachers must act in new ways that are progressive rather than reactionary and backward. Mothers, fathers and children must do the same. This is a family affair: slavery was about the destruction of family, thus ultimate freedom will be about the reconstruction of family. There is no other way.
--Dr. M
Dr. M is author of HOW TO RECOVER FROM THE ADDICTION TO WHITE SUPREMACY, BLACK BIRD PRESS, 2007, $19.95. Order from Black Bird Press, POB 1317, Paradise CA. 95967
The next session of the Pan African Mental Health Peer Group is Saturday, January 12, 4pm, at the Black Repertory Group Theatre, 3201 Adeline Street, Berkeley, one block south of the Ashby BART station. Admission: donation. Call 510-355-6339 for more information.
In West Africa and the Atlantic Slave Trade, a monograph published before his great work, HOW EUROPE UNDERDEVELOPED AFRICA, the late Dr. Walter Rodney explained the dire social situation as Africa entered the slave trade. He told how all institutions contributed to our downfall: the political, economic, judicial, military, and religious institutions played their role in the destruction of African society.
The rulers, kings and queens, in the words of a Baraka poem, “Sold the farmer to the ghost….” The king and his military, those noble warriors, often engaged in mock battles with neighboring kings and their peoples, then divided the spoils of war (the people) between themselves; of course the “spoils” were sold to European slavers. Rodney told how the judicial system was corrupted with false charges and false evidence to enslave the victims. Persons were falsely charged with adultery and of course the sentence was slavery or sale to the Europeans. From a previous society with no jails and peace in the streets, the time came when all were fearful of being kidnapped. No more peace in the streets, in the villages, but chaos reigned. One tribe could no longer trust another tribe; one person could not trust another.
In America today, we find ourselves in a similar situation. The Arabs use the term “ya’um jahiliyah” (days of ignorance) to designate the historical time before the prophet when all was chaos, murder, revenge killing, tribal warfare, assassination, kidnapping, highway robbery of caravans, quite similar to West Africa before the slave trade or Maafa (great tragedy). But what we have in America is not only business as usual white supremacy, but an expeditious return to slavery times, especially with the involuntary servitude of the jailed and imprisoned, with over 50% of the population African and Latino, the majority Africans incarcerated for minor drug crimes such as small amounts of crack cocaine; with a great percentage of inmates found guilty due to information or mis-information from snitches (give up three people and you go free is the mantra here in the Bay Area of Cali). Is this not similar to the judicial corruption Dr. Rodney described in West Africa? Nowhere is safe these days, the Mall, the Church, the schools, colleges and universities, the workplaces, the social clubs. In Oakland, nearly all clubs for North American Africans have closed due to violence inside or outside the establishments.
Youth gangs have adults living in terror, afraid to go to the store. Several youth have been carjacked and murdered to obtain rims. Antar Bey, the young CEO of Your Black Muslim Bakery (now closed since the murder of journalist Chauncey Bailey), was killed to obtain the five thousand dollar rims on his BMW.
And while the church marches and prays to stop the violence, it too has been corrupted by the general chaos in the hood. Sometimes it says nothing about drugs and violence because it is often the beneficiary of mothers who support the church with funds from children involved in the drug trade. One sister said if the church talked about drugs it would have no congregation since so much of its income is from tithes derived from the criminal activity of children whose mothers are church going women. One sister told me these women are essentially pimping their children, then cry when Dante is murdered, swearing he was a good child who did no wrong. When in fact Dante was one of the biggest dope dealers in the hood, who lavished material goods upon his mother.
We recall a church mother who took drugs to her sons in prison contained in baby diapers. And recently we were informed parents can no longer bring home cooked meals to juvenile hall because they were hiding drugs in the food. Yes, even mother is guilty of participating in the chaos and corruption of modern day slavery.
Prostitution is on the rise since the drug trade has lead to the incarceration of so many males. Girls eleven, twelve and thirteen can be found whoring on Oakland’s International Blvd, and they are indeed international, representing every ethnic group and multiracial configuration.
The sad truth is that America has never separated itself completely from its slave past; it merely progressed into virtual slavery of segregation, then wage slavery of the civil rights era. Globalism insures the continuation of virtual slavery with the capitalist desire for cheap wages and natural resources. To obtain and maintain their thousand per cent profits, the imperialists will insist on minimum wages and prices for natural resources. The hopeful sign is the nationalization of resources by the leftist governments throughout the Americas, throwing a monkey wrench in the continued exploitation and robbery of their peoples.
North American Africans seem oblivious to events below their border, aside from joining with the capitalists in their attempt to stem the tide of immigration from the south caused by centuries of Yankee imperialism. The American Blacks are in the main ignorant of the revolution throughout the Americas, in Bolivia, Nicaragua, Venezuela, Argentina, Chile, Brazil, Peru and elsewhere.
While they are glued to the insanity of B.E.T. television, peoples throughout the Americas are taking charge of their destiny, kicking out the bloodthirsty imperialists and their reactionary collaborators.
We must come quickly to the realization that our freedom is connected with other people throughout the Americas, with whom we are connected by blood, sweat and tears.
The poor peasants who cultivate the coca plants are victims as well, for they derive little profit for their labor under the sun. We cannot get angry with them but it is upon us to have the discipline to resist the dope when it reaches our cities, for medication is not the solution, rather we must resist oppression not submit to it by medicating ourselves into oblivion, additionally becoming victims of the criminal justice system, then clients of the billion dollar racist pseudo-recovery industry. Yes, the same white racists who deliver the dope, offer to deliver you from the dope, especially with the new harm reduction model that says keep using dope, just do so in a controlled manner. Don’t stop being a wage slave, take a bath and make love to your mate, and don’t abuse your children, but keep taking your dope, and keep coming back to recovery—after all, we make as much money off the recovery business as from addicting the population.
Of course the real solution is a revolution in consciousness, then in society, yes, the destruction of all white supremacy institutions that are harmful and dangerous to our health and the health of humanity in general.
Politicians, preachers and teachers must act in new ways that are progressive rather than reactionary and backward. Mothers, fathers and children must do the same. This is a family affair: slavery was about the destruction of family, thus ultimate freedom will be about the reconstruction of family. There is no other way.
--Dr. M
Dr. M is author of HOW TO RECOVER FROM THE ADDICTION TO WHITE SUPREMACY, BLACK BIRD PRESS, 2007, $19.95. Order from Black Bird Press, POB 1317, Paradise CA. 95967
The next session of the Pan African Mental Health Peer Group is Saturday, January 12, 4pm, at the Black Repertory Group Theatre, 3201 Adeline Street, Berkeley, one block south of the Ashby BART station. Admission: donation. Call 510-355-6339 for more information.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Report:The Pan African Mental Health Peer Group Meeting
Date: December 15, 2007
Scheduled meeting time: 4pm
Actual Starting time: 4:10
Place: In the Upper Room,
Black Repertory Group Theatre,
Berkeley, CA
Order of Session:
1. Prayer, Read Step 7
2. Check In
3. Read 13 Steps
4. White Supremacy Defined
5. Detoxification from White Supremacy
6. Read Step One, Fear
7. Donations
8. Prayer
9. Next Meeting Date: Saturday, January 12, 2008, 4pm, Upper Room, Black Rep. Theatre, Berkeley
The meeting was a success, for one reason because it began only ten minutes after the scheduled time. This is revolutionary for North American Africans. Secondly, it was a success by the fact that ten people came together on a Saturday afternoon during the holiday season to begin the healing process from their addiction to white supremacy. This is revolutionary. We met to heal ourselves by ourselves, without any leader, although Dr. M and his associates were there to facilitate, and they did. PhD candidate and long time associate of Dr. M, Ayodele Nzinga, did an excellent job keeping people on the agenda, summing items and explaining concepts. Ptah Allah El, author of the afterword to M's How to Recover from White Supremacy, was also on hand to help facilitate and contribute. .
Who came to the meeting? Sick people in search of healing. Why would anyone come in denial they are addicted to white supremacy, level II (the oppressed), as Dr. Nathan Hare explained in his foreword to Dr. M’s book HOW TO RECOVER FROM THE ADDICTION TO WHITE SUPREMACY. Level 1 is the oppressor’s addiction to White Supremacy.
From the check in it was clear everyone was in a state of Black Rage, the women and the men. The rage was like a teapot boiling and steaming, about to explode. The meeting was successful because it gave people an opportunity to release rage in a constructive manner, although people told of their desire to be destructive and attack the perceived source of their rage and anger, the oppressor.
White supremacy was defined as a system of oppression and domination. It was said that the solution is coming together in the circle to begin the healing process. We suffer because we are disconnected, thus the simple solution is to connect, come together. Sister Ayo remarked how good it felt just being in the room with a group of people coming together to consciously begin to heal themselves. And we must concur, it did feel good being in the room with people aware of their problems and about the business of finding the solution. Yes, everyone in the room was sick, to one degree or another, but the hope is in the fact they made it to the meeting. One severely disturbed person came up the stairs, looked around at the people in the circle, acknowledged to all that he had played basketball with Dr. M, but he had to leave, so he departed. But even he must be congratulated for making it up the stairs—at least he made the effort in his pitiful condition, so how can we dismiss him. Maybe the next time he will find the energy to remain, so let us not lose hope. Our sickness is only a matter of degree, but by degrees we are raised to perfection. Again, the meeting was a success because people came to make the initial step.
Dr. M told them his book is not written in stone, it can be revised, just as he revised the traditional 12 step model to adjust it for the addiction to white supremacy. He does not expect every one to agree with his remarks in the book, but he would like this group to serve as a model for others who desire to use the peer group approach, especially since, as Dr. Hare noted, there simply are not enough mental health workers to serve the critical needs of our people. Dr. Hare has indicated he will make himself present when time allows. He did not attend, but we are honored to have his unqualified support as our elder and specialist in the field of liberation psychology. We informed the group that they should seek out the writings of others in the field.
When it came to the subject of detoxification, Brother Ptah, who wrote the afterword to Dr. M’s book, noted how he detoxed by listening to the tapes of Dr. Clarke, Dr. Ben, Dr. Wesling, Dr. Khalid Muhammad, and others, and he suggested this as a detox method, for we must simply negate white supremacy information. Ptah said just as we hit delete on the computer, we must hit the delete button in our minds and release the ideas, the thoughts, the information that is the source of our ills, the mis-information that is slowly killing us.
A rich man from Silicon Valley was interviewed on radio about how he became wealthy and how others do the same in the Valley. First, he said you come with a thought, with an idea that has the potential to be successful, then you connect with others, such as engineers and venture capitalists, but the thought is the key element. And the addiction to white supremacy can be healed with New Thought. Thoughts are things, thoughts can kill and thoughts can heal! So much of our addiction to white supremacy is thought-based, and most of us have not been in a position to think outside the box because in order to do so one must be on the highest spiritual plane wherein we are in this world but not of this world. Now there are some of us who have been able to get outside this country, to travel abroad long enough to ponder our condition and, from being abroad, see how ridiculous it is for us to accept our wretched status. And a sister in Florida noted in a phone conversation with Dr. M called that White Supremacy should be called White Lunacy—yes, we are under the rule of lunatics. How can divine people allow themselves to be ruled by lunatics? And brother Ptah said as much in his afterword: we are giving too much credit to the enemy by using the term supremacy: “Even Black Studies scholars and educators, in their mentally disturbed state are guilty of perpetuating white supremacy. Unfortunately, some intellectuals are unaware of the dialectic that suggests every time the thesis white supremacy is used, the antithesis black inferiority is automatically insinuated.” Indeed, I have written about the psycholinguistic crisis of North American Africans. In short, not only are thoughts killing us but language as well. Hence, all the confusion about the proper description of our identity: Africans, colored, Negro, Black, Bilalian, Kemetic, Niggers, Nigguhs, Bitches, Hos, thugs, dogs, pimps, gangstas, etc.
In the meeting, a sister got upset because a young brother used the term old people, she preferred the term senior. We agreed to allow freedom of speech in the peer group, otherwise we can get lost in the black hole or white hole of linguistic confusion—the tower of Babel. Language can be ideological, political, spiritual, thus we can get bogged down with words, definitions. Perhaps we should establish a working vocabulary, but we do not want to inhibit people from speaking their mind, only because some of us are linguistic puritans and only desire to hear socalled positive speech. I believe in freedom of speech, and I especially abhor those hypocrites who say don’t say motherfucker but are guilty of incest. Dr. Cornel West told the NAACP, “Yes, you buried the N word, but you’re still acting like Nigguhs!” Yes, we are against phony Nigguhs who hide behind words to shield their wickedness. Jesse, don’t pray with the president while you are engaged in the same immorality! You so involved in praying for somebody else when you need to be praying for yourself and asking God to forgive you! People email me, “Who’s going to heal you, Dr. M?” I’m trying to heal myself as it is prescribed, “Physician heal thyself.” I’m not above the peer group, I’m in the peer group! The book is healing for me, it allowed me to transcend some of my addiction to white supremacy or lunacy (I like Sister Abena’s term, the group liked it. The old folks used to say, don’t worry bout them white folks, they crazy!). The only problem is that we have been infected by their virus of lunacy.
A good example is the multitude of fears we harbor, as revealed when the group discussed Step One, which deals with fear—so many fears, while the only thing to fear is fear itself. We fear nothing but the Creator, and furthermore, we flow in the flow of the Creator’s love, thus we only fear when we slip into the undercurrent and get caught in the counter flow.
There is no fear when we are I harmony with the laws of the universe, but we become fearful when we are not doing the right things. The brothers in the hood are armed because they are afraid of each other, they don’t know each other, in their ignorance of their Divinity, they act out animal behavior, even worse than animals, for animals don’t kill for no reason—they kill to eat. We kill for wreakless eyeballing, “I don’t like the way you looked at me, Nigguh! I don’t like the way you looked at my bitch.” Bam, Boom, Bam! One more bites the dust.
One sister feared her father and other men because she did not know them. She knew the women in her family and life, but not the men, they were strangers to her and she did not know how to interact with them.
Another sister feared that our people would mess around until it was too late and we will self destruct or be totally overwhelmed by the forces of white supremacy. I saw her point and gave the example of the Polish underground during WW II, they delayed organizing until it was too late when they finally got their resistance together. When they finally did, they found themselves caught between the political chicanery of Hitler, Stalin and the Allied powers. Of course, they ended up in concentration camps or simply had their resistance foiled.
Of course the men in the group had no fears, to hear them tell it. “I ain’t scared of nothing,” many of them said, perhaps expressing their macho socialization. For men to express fear is cowardice, yet some did, when pressed, admit they had fears. They feared getting caught in a death trap interacting with white men in the business world, as one union organized spoken about. They feared not doing enough in the time they had on earth. Even I feared my forty years in struggle has been in vain, that my sharings on the internet are not being read because I get few comments on them. I fear teaching on the street is in vain, yet people tell me I make a difference when I am on the corner of 14th and Broadway—a spiritual energy pervades the area, even though I may be unaware of it, but the people notice and they have told me and others. So there is a power working higher than myself, a spirit in the dark, or perhaps it from the energy of a bright sun shining on a winter day. We must simply do the work, do all that we can do while we’re here, and don’t worry, simply plant the seeds and surely they will grown.
A sister feared she would lose her government job by attending our meeting, that she is being watched. On the street, a brother feared going back to work with my book—he feared getting fired for having a book on white supremacy in his possession.
Ayo, a mother of six, said she feared for her children every time she hears the news about a shooting. She has to take a head count of her sons to see they are all safely in the house, because she worries all the time they are in the street.
Brother Ptah said after reading aloud from Step One, he was shaken by the material, even though he had read it before. He was especially moved by the lines, “If truth be told, we are not powerless over anything, but have the power within ourselves to overcome any force in the universe that is not in harmony with the Higher Power without and within ourselves.” (page 31, How to Recover from White Supremacy.)
The meeting ended with prayer. The next session is scheduled for Saturday, January 12, 4pm, in the Upper Room of the Black Repertory Group Theatre, 3201 Adeline Street, Berkeley, one block south of the Ashby BART station. Call 510-355-6339 for more information.
Let us hear your comments. We urge you to organize a peer group in your community, at your home even. Start with your family members and friends. Time is of the essence. Racism is on the move, but so are we, and we are not afraid, for we stand on the shoulders of ancestors David Walker, Nat Turner, Denmark Vesey, Harriet Tubman, Sojourner Truth, Ida B. Wells, Booker T, Frederick Douglas, Noble Drew Ali, WEB DuBois, Marcus Garvey, Master Fard Muhammad, Elijah Muhammad, Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, Jr., Coretta Scott, Betty Shabazz, Mae Mallory, Fannie Lou Hamer, Queen Mother Moore, Ella Collins, Ella Baker, Huey Newton, Eldridge Cleaver, George Jackson, Robert F. Williams, Kwame Toure, Patrice Lumumba, Kwame Nkrumah, Sekou Toure, and other known and unknown soldiers of liberation.
To order Dr. M’s book HOW TO RECOVER FROM THE ADDICTION TO WHITE SUPREMACY, send $19.95 to Black Bird Press, POB 1317, Paradise CA 95967. To book him for speaking and reading engagements, write to the same address or call 510-355-6339. Visit and comment on his blog: www.marvinxwrites.blogspot.com. Also visit: www.nathanielturner.com, and www.youtube.com/marvinx/white supremacy. Marvin X reads with Amiri Baraka at University of California Berkeley, go to: Holloway Series in Poetry--Amiri Baraka.
Date: December 15, 2007
Scheduled meeting time: 4pm
Actual Starting time: 4:10
Place: In the Upper Room,
Black Repertory Group Theatre,
Berkeley, CA
Order of Session:
1. Prayer, Read Step 7
2. Check In
3. Read 13 Steps
4. White Supremacy Defined
5. Detoxification from White Supremacy
6. Read Step One, Fear
7. Donations
8. Prayer
9. Next Meeting Date: Saturday, January 12, 2008, 4pm, Upper Room, Black Rep. Theatre, Berkeley
The meeting was a success, for one reason because it began only ten minutes after the scheduled time. This is revolutionary for North American Africans. Secondly, it was a success by the fact that ten people came together on a Saturday afternoon during the holiday season to begin the healing process from their addiction to white supremacy. This is revolutionary. We met to heal ourselves by ourselves, without any leader, although Dr. M and his associates were there to facilitate, and they did. PhD candidate and long time associate of Dr. M, Ayodele Nzinga, did an excellent job keeping people on the agenda, summing items and explaining concepts. Ptah Allah El, author of the afterword to M's How to Recover from White Supremacy, was also on hand to help facilitate and contribute. .
Who came to the meeting? Sick people in search of healing. Why would anyone come in denial they are addicted to white supremacy, level II (the oppressed), as Dr. Nathan Hare explained in his foreword to Dr. M’s book HOW TO RECOVER FROM THE ADDICTION TO WHITE SUPREMACY. Level 1 is the oppressor’s addiction to White Supremacy.
From the check in it was clear everyone was in a state of Black Rage, the women and the men. The rage was like a teapot boiling and steaming, about to explode. The meeting was successful because it gave people an opportunity to release rage in a constructive manner, although people told of their desire to be destructive and attack the perceived source of their rage and anger, the oppressor.
White supremacy was defined as a system of oppression and domination. It was said that the solution is coming together in the circle to begin the healing process. We suffer because we are disconnected, thus the simple solution is to connect, come together. Sister Ayo remarked how good it felt just being in the room with a group of people coming together to consciously begin to heal themselves. And we must concur, it did feel good being in the room with people aware of their problems and about the business of finding the solution. Yes, everyone in the room was sick, to one degree or another, but the hope is in the fact they made it to the meeting. One severely disturbed person came up the stairs, looked around at the people in the circle, acknowledged to all that he had played basketball with Dr. M, but he had to leave, so he departed. But even he must be congratulated for making it up the stairs—at least he made the effort in his pitiful condition, so how can we dismiss him. Maybe the next time he will find the energy to remain, so let us not lose hope. Our sickness is only a matter of degree, but by degrees we are raised to perfection. Again, the meeting was a success because people came to make the initial step.
Dr. M told them his book is not written in stone, it can be revised, just as he revised the traditional 12 step model to adjust it for the addiction to white supremacy. He does not expect every one to agree with his remarks in the book, but he would like this group to serve as a model for others who desire to use the peer group approach, especially since, as Dr. Hare noted, there simply are not enough mental health workers to serve the critical needs of our people. Dr. Hare has indicated he will make himself present when time allows. He did not attend, but we are honored to have his unqualified support as our elder and specialist in the field of liberation psychology. We informed the group that they should seek out the writings of others in the field.
When it came to the subject of detoxification, Brother Ptah, who wrote the afterword to Dr. M’s book, noted how he detoxed by listening to the tapes of Dr. Clarke, Dr. Ben, Dr. Wesling, Dr. Khalid Muhammad, and others, and he suggested this as a detox method, for we must simply negate white supremacy information. Ptah said just as we hit delete on the computer, we must hit the delete button in our minds and release the ideas, the thoughts, the information that is the source of our ills, the mis-information that is slowly killing us.
A rich man from Silicon Valley was interviewed on radio about how he became wealthy and how others do the same in the Valley. First, he said you come with a thought, with an idea that has the potential to be successful, then you connect with others, such as engineers and venture capitalists, but the thought is the key element. And the addiction to white supremacy can be healed with New Thought. Thoughts are things, thoughts can kill and thoughts can heal! So much of our addiction to white supremacy is thought-based, and most of us have not been in a position to think outside the box because in order to do so one must be on the highest spiritual plane wherein we are in this world but not of this world. Now there are some of us who have been able to get outside this country, to travel abroad long enough to ponder our condition and, from being abroad, see how ridiculous it is for us to accept our wretched status. And a sister in Florida noted in a phone conversation with Dr. M called that White Supremacy should be called White Lunacy—yes, we are under the rule of lunatics. How can divine people allow themselves to be ruled by lunatics? And brother Ptah said as much in his afterword: we are giving too much credit to the enemy by using the term supremacy: “Even Black Studies scholars and educators, in their mentally disturbed state are guilty of perpetuating white supremacy. Unfortunately, some intellectuals are unaware of the dialectic that suggests every time the thesis white supremacy is used, the antithesis black inferiority is automatically insinuated.” Indeed, I have written about the psycholinguistic crisis of North American Africans. In short, not only are thoughts killing us but language as well. Hence, all the confusion about the proper description of our identity: Africans, colored, Negro, Black, Bilalian, Kemetic, Niggers, Nigguhs, Bitches, Hos, thugs, dogs, pimps, gangstas, etc.
In the meeting, a sister got upset because a young brother used the term old people, she preferred the term senior. We agreed to allow freedom of speech in the peer group, otherwise we can get lost in the black hole or white hole of linguistic confusion—the tower of Babel. Language can be ideological, political, spiritual, thus we can get bogged down with words, definitions. Perhaps we should establish a working vocabulary, but we do not want to inhibit people from speaking their mind, only because some of us are linguistic puritans and only desire to hear socalled positive speech. I believe in freedom of speech, and I especially abhor those hypocrites who say don’t say motherfucker but are guilty of incest. Dr. Cornel West told the NAACP, “Yes, you buried the N word, but you’re still acting like Nigguhs!” Yes, we are against phony Nigguhs who hide behind words to shield their wickedness. Jesse, don’t pray with the president while you are engaged in the same immorality! You so involved in praying for somebody else when you need to be praying for yourself and asking God to forgive you! People email me, “Who’s going to heal you, Dr. M?” I’m trying to heal myself as it is prescribed, “Physician heal thyself.” I’m not above the peer group, I’m in the peer group! The book is healing for me, it allowed me to transcend some of my addiction to white supremacy or lunacy (I like Sister Abena’s term, the group liked it. The old folks used to say, don’t worry bout them white folks, they crazy!). The only problem is that we have been infected by their virus of lunacy.
A good example is the multitude of fears we harbor, as revealed when the group discussed Step One, which deals with fear—so many fears, while the only thing to fear is fear itself. We fear nothing but the Creator, and furthermore, we flow in the flow of the Creator’s love, thus we only fear when we slip into the undercurrent and get caught in the counter flow.
There is no fear when we are I harmony with the laws of the universe, but we become fearful when we are not doing the right things. The brothers in the hood are armed because they are afraid of each other, they don’t know each other, in their ignorance of their Divinity, they act out animal behavior, even worse than animals, for animals don’t kill for no reason—they kill to eat. We kill for wreakless eyeballing, “I don’t like the way you looked at me, Nigguh! I don’t like the way you looked at my bitch.” Bam, Boom, Bam! One more bites the dust.
One sister feared her father and other men because she did not know them. She knew the women in her family and life, but not the men, they were strangers to her and she did not know how to interact with them.
Another sister feared that our people would mess around until it was too late and we will self destruct or be totally overwhelmed by the forces of white supremacy. I saw her point and gave the example of the Polish underground during WW II, they delayed organizing until it was too late when they finally got their resistance together. When they finally did, they found themselves caught between the political chicanery of Hitler, Stalin and the Allied powers. Of course, they ended up in concentration camps or simply had their resistance foiled.
Of course the men in the group had no fears, to hear them tell it. “I ain’t scared of nothing,” many of them said, perhaps expressing their macho socialization. For men to express fear is cowardice, yet some did, when pressed, admit they had fears. They feared getting caught in a death trap interacting with white men in the business world, as one union organized spoken about. They feared not doing enough in the time they had on earth. Even I feared my forty years in struggle has been in vain, that my sharings on the internet are not being read because I get few comments on them. I fear teaching on the street is in vain, yet people tell me I make a difference when I am on the corner of 14th and Broadway—a spiritual energy pervades the area, even though I may be unaware of it, but the people notice and they have told me and others. So there is a power working higher than myself, a spirit in the dark, or perhaps it from the energy of a bright sun shining on a winter day. We must simply do the work, do all that we can do while we’re here, and don’t worry, simply plant the seeds and surely they will grown.
A sister feared she would lose her government job by attending our meeting, that she is being watched. On the street, a brother feared going back to work with my book—he feared getting fired for having a book on white supremacy in his possession.
Ayo, a mother of six, said she feared for her children every time she hears the news about a shooting. She has to take a head count of her sons to see they are all safely in the house, because she worries all the time they are in the street.
Brother Ptah said after reading aloud from Step One, he was shaken by the material, even though he had read it before. He was especially moved by the lines, “If truth be told, we are not powerless over anything, but have the power within ourselves to overcome any force in the universe that is not in harmony with the Higher Power without and within ourselves.” (page 31, How to Recover from White Supremacy.)
The meeting ended with prayer. The next session is scheduled for Saturday, January 12, 4pm, in the Upper Room of the Black Repertory Group Theatre, 3201 Adeline Street, Berkeley, one block south of the Ashby BART station. Call 510-355-6339 for more information.
Let us hear your comments. We urge you to organize a peer group in your community, at your home even. Start with your family members and friends. Time is of the essence. Racism is on the move, but so are we, and we are not afraid, for we stand on the shoulders of ancestors David Walker, Nat Turner, Denmark Vesey, Harriet Tubman, Sojourner Truth, Ida B. Wells, Booker T, Frederick Douglas, Noble Drew Ali, WEB DuBois, Marcus Garvey, Master Fard Muhammad, Elijah Muhammad, Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, Jr., Coretta Scott, Betty Shabazz, Mae Mallory, Fannie Lou Hamer, Queen Mother Moore, Ella Collins, Ella Baker, Huey Newton, Eldridge Cleaver, George Jackson, Robert F. Williams, Kwame Toure, Patrice Lumumba, Kwame Nkrumah, Sekou Toure, and other known and unknown soldiers of liberation.
To order Dr. M’s book HOW TO RECOVER FROM THE ADDICTION TO WHITE SUPREMACY, send $19.95 to Black Bird Press, POB 1317, Paradise CA 95967. To book him for speaking and reading engagements, write to the same address or call 510-355-6339. Visit and comment on his blog: www.marvinxwrites.blogspot.com. Also visit: www.nathanielturner.com, and www.youtube.com/marvinx/white supremacy. Marvin X reads with Amiri Baraka at University of California Berkeley, go to: Holloway Series in Poetry--Amiri Baraka.
A Poem for Unresolved Grief
(To be read with Marvin Gaye’s Distant Lover in background)
When thy lover has gone to eternity
When the touch is no longer there to feel in the night, in the day
The smile the walk, sweetness of body, kissing of lips breast and thigh
When thy lover has gone
A day we never imagine
For love blinds us to things not seen
But yet the day came like a cloud of thunder
Pouring down upon our head, drowning us in sorrow of the worse kind
We cannot walk but listen each day to her voice message til we are taken away
And yet we want to hear for the last time the voice of love
For all the joy we shared the blending of two into one
The thinking of two into one
When thy lover has gone
We are worse than dead yet alive to suffer a pain no man can know
Who has never loved a true love we say we want but never get
But we have lived what few ever know the touch the feel the constant smile
When thy lover has gone
The earth opens for the mate as well
There are no tears enough
No silent moments to consider and get over matters of the heart
We are confined in the prison of life and wish to leave
For other worlds to see if we can meet again
The one so kind so true
But life keeps us here bound like slave to master
Yet we yearn for paradise for life is love and love has gone
So desire is great and pain is a mountain we cannot climb
We go to familiar places but are lost and cannot find the way home
We call a friend to pick us up
And take us back to home
And there we sit in stupor thinking of the days when joy ruled our world
And now the joy has gone and never will return.
Lord help us through the day, help us through the night
It hurts to breathe to think to see a picture of our beloved
But we try until the night consumes us and we sleep
Hoping tomorrow will be a better day.
--Dr. M
12/17/07
(To be read with Marvin Gaye’s Distant Lover in background)
When thy lover has gone to eternity
When the touch is no longer there to feel in the night, in the day
The smile the walk, sweetness of body, kissing of lips breast and thigh
When thy lover has gone
A day we never imagine
For love blinds us to things not seen
But yet the day came like a cloud of thunder
Pouring down upon our head, drowning us in sorrow of the worse kind
We cannot walk but listen each day to her voice message til we are taken away
And yet we want to hear for the last time the voice of love
For all the joy we shared the blending of two into one
The thinking of two into one
When thy lover has gone
We are worse than dead yet alive to suffer a pain no man can know
Who has never loved a true love we say we want but never get
But we have lived what few ever know the touch the feel the constant smile
When thy lover has gone
The earth opens for the mate as well
There are no tears enough
No silent moments to consider and get over matters of the heart
We are confined in the prison of life and wish to leave
For other worlds to see if we can meet again
The one so kind so true
But life keeps us here bound like slave to master
Yet we yearn for paradise for life is love and love has gone
So desire is great and pain is a mountain we cannot climb
We go to familiar places but are lost and cannot find the way home
We call a friend to pick us up
And take us back to home
And there we sit in stupor thinking of the days when joy ruled our world
And now the joy has gone and never will return.
Lord help us through the day, help us through the night
It hurts to breathe to think to see a picture of our beloved
But we try until the night consumes us and we sleep
Hoping tomorrow will be a better day.
--Dr. M
12/17/07
The Black Arts Movement, Part II
Yesterday at San Francisco State University, students met in the Jack Adams auditorium to reestablish the Black Arts Movement, Their action was in response to comments by Amiri Baraka when he was on campus a few weeks ago At a reception which included members of the original Black Students Union who caused a revolution to establish Black Studies forty years ago, Baraka chided a drama student. He was so shaken that he did research on BAM and realized several students from SFSU were BAM originators, including Marvin X, Jimmy Garett and Danny Glover. The student searched Google for BAM documents and incorporated them into his position paper presented yesterday to the New Black Arts Movement members. Black Panther Minister of Culture, Emory Douglas and Marvin X were present, along with members of the Ethnic Studies faculty. We will keep you updated on the progress of BAM II. A National Tour is planned for sometime next year which will include Amiri Baraka, Sonia Sanchez, Askia Toure, The Last Poets, Marvin X, along with conscious Hip Hop poets, to make it an inter generational tour. On the BAM tour, contact Marvin X or Amiri Baraka.
Yesterday at San Francisco State University, students met in the Jack Adams auditorium to reestablish the Black Arts Movement, Their action was in response to comments by Amiri Baraka when he was on campus a few weeks ago At a reception which included members of the original Black Students Union who caused a revolution to establish Black Studies forty years ago, Baraka chided a drama student. He was so shaken that he did research on BAM and realized several students from SFSU were BAM originators, including Marvin X, Jimmy Garett and Danny Glover. The student searched Google for BAM documents and incorporated them into his position paper presented yesterday to the New Black Arts Movement members. Black Panther Minister of Culture, Emory Douglas and Marvin X were present, along with members of the Ethnic Studies faculty. We will keep you updated on the progress of BAM II. A National Tour is planned for sometime next year which will include Amiri Baraka, Sonia Sanchez, Askia Toure, The Last Poets, Marvin X, along with conscious Hip Hop poets, to make it an inter generational tour. On the BAM tour, contact Marvin X or Amiri Baraka.
Friday, December 14, 2007
LETTER FROM SISTER ABENA AFREEKA ON WHITE LUNANCY
Joanie McCollum wrote:
Akwaaba!
Dr. Marvin X
Needless to say, it was a pleasure and honor to have spoken with you this evening. I have wanted to hold a discussion with you since our initial meeting in Philadelphia (2005) and after I saw your 12 step write up. As you know, I also spoke with you about developing the "recovery model" to support Afreekan Descendents in freeing them(our)selves from white 'LUNANCY'. I no longer use the term "supremacy" as I overstand that the european, in their addiction to power and control and the associated behaviors, are clearly sheer lunantics. Lunantics first and foremost in that they seem to believe that any of US would continue to remain blind to their antics and/or that we would continue to support them in their addiction.
Anywho, I was beside myself when I saw your steps and the book which followed. Due to my own "co-dependency" and trauma, I felt you "stole" an idea from me and gave me no credit for my contributions in this struggle for Liberation. Well, why would I not? I mean, it is consistent with the behaviors of "mentally sick" people to have "delusions of grandeur", "paranoia", "depression" and "phobia's" when it comes to our interactions with others. When your life has been spent working to "protect" yourself from others b.s behaviors...well....I imagine you get my drift now.
As I said, I have spent my "professional" life working with Folks of Afreekan Descendent and those surviving in poverty for the past 20 years. I did not mention that I have engaged in the services I have provided for a number of years as well. I, like many of US, have a familiy history supporting the need for recovery from substance abuse and after my years of education and work, I came to the realization that OUR primary "addiction" is the co-dependent status we are in and that substances are used to manage the pain and degradation of the traumatic impact of the MAAFA.
I hold a post-master's certificate in Couple and Family Therapy and "ran out of chips in the game" towards completing the Doctorate program. No money! This coupled with my total rejection and unwillingness to continue to "practice" as a mental/behavioral health practitioner along with the changing winds in time, and living on a daily basis the same experiences simply became more than I could manage alone. And alone I have been, because everyone seems to be strapped and struggling AND...of course, as Afreekan Descendents.."We don't need therapy"! So, not too many people want to talk with me in the various communities of US for which I have traveled through (family, Rasta, Pan-Afreekan). Enough said of me....
Here are the sites I have been working to develop:
www.AfreekaLIVE.com
www.rnanetwork.ning.com
I also make youtube video's and have intention of completing my "dissertation" LIVE and in person!
It would be great if we can talk again and record. It can be interview format type or just a plain ole conversation allowing people to become the proverbial "fly on the wall" as they listen in.
I can use all and any support you have to extend as this has been an extremely lonely journey of late.
Finally, you indicated a desire to send me a review copy of your book. It can be sent to
Abena Afreeka
614 Rapid Falls Dr.
Brandon Fl. 33511
Hopefully, it will aid me as I continue my own struggle to write a first book!
Again, I appreciate the call back as it has served in aiding me cleaning up some of my shit!, in my process of Recovery and Restores my "plan" for the Unity of WE.
Yebeyhia~bio!
Abena Afreeka
Racism Non-Anonymous
In Love of Afreekans Home and Abroad
Joanie McCollum
Akwaaba!
Dr. Marvin X
Needless to say, it was a pleasure and honor to have spoken with you this evening. I have wanted to hold a discussion with you since our initial meeting in Philadelphia (2005) and after I saw your 12 step write up. As you know, I also spoke with you about developing the "recovery model" to support Afreekan Descendents in freeing them(our)selves from white 'LUNANCY'. I no longer use the term "supremacy" as I overstand that the european, in their addiction to power and control and the associated behaviors, are clearly sheer lunantics. Lunantics first and foremost in that they seem to believe that any of US would continue to remain blind to their antics and/or that we would continue to support them in their addiction.
Anywho, I was beside myself when I saw your steps and the book which followed. Due to my own "co-dependency" and trauma, I felt you "stole" an idea from me and gave me no credit for my contributions in this struggle for Liberation. Well, why would I not? I mean, it is consistent with the behaviors of "mentally sick" people to have "delusions of grandeur", "paranoia", "depression" and "phobia's" when it comes to our interactions with others. When your life has been spent working to "protect" yourself from others b.s behaviors...well....I imagine you get my drift now.
As I said, I have spent my "professional" life working with Folks of Afreekan Descendent and those surviving in poverty for the past 20 years. I did not mention that I have engaged in the services I have provided for a number of years as well. I, like many of US, have a familiy history supporting the need for recovery from substance abuse and after my years of education and work, I came to the realization that OUR primary "addiction" is the co-dependent status we are in and that substances are used to manage the pain and degradation of the traumatic impact of the MAAFA.
I hold a post-master's certificate in Couple and Family Therapy and "ran out of chips in the game" towards completing the Doctorate program. No money! This coupled with my total rejection and unwillingness to continue to "practice" as a mental/behavioral health practitioner along with the changing winds in time, and living on a daily basis the same experiences simply became more than I could manage alone. And alone I have been, because everyone seems to be strapped and struggling AND...of course, as Afreekan Descendents.."We don't need therapy"! So, not too many people want to talk with me in the various communities of US for which I have traveled through (family, Rasta, Pan-Afreekan). Enough said of me....
Here are the sites I have been working to develop:
www.AfreekaLIVE.com
www.rnanetwork.ning.com
I also make youtube video's and have intention of completing my "dissertation" LIVE and in person!
It would be great if we can talk again and record. It can be interview format type or just a plain ole conversation allowing people to become the proverbial "fly on the wall" as they listen in.
I can use all and any support you have to extend as this has been an extremely lonely journey of late.
Finally, you indicated a desire to send me a review copy of your book. It can be sent to
Abena Afreeka
614 Rapid Falls Dr.
Brandon Fl. 33511
Hopefully, it will aid me as I continue my own struggle to write a first book!
Again, I appreciate the call back as it has served in aiding me cleaning up some of my shit!, in my process of Recovery and Restores my "plan" for the Unity of WE.
Yebeyhia~bio!
Abena Afreeka
Racism Non-Anonymous
In Love of Afreekans Home and Abroad
The Green Revolution
The Green Revolution is not what you think, rather it is Nature in revolt against man, and man can do little when Nature is against him. He can try but the only solution is to correct himself otherwise Nature is going to consume him, yes, eat him alive, flooding the land by raising the sea level, drying up the water that will soon be more valuable than oil, polluting the food with bacteria making it inedible.
We see man trying to make changes in nature but not in himself, for he has no intention to give freedom and justice to the poor, but has come with an entirely new method of domination and exploitation called globalism that cares nothing about the welfare of nations, only profit. If people suffer, too bad, we must let free market forces play out, except when the exploitation is so blatant he will make minor adjustments as with the sub prime mortgage crisis. The government says it will help a few but most of the people, especially the poor who were the worse victims shall be homeless—once again, they have been robbed of their American dream.
But Nature shall not stop her fury until the white supremacy rulers and their running dogs have been removed from power, no matter what it takes—they have no weapons against nature, the sun, the moon and stars, the oceans, rivers and mountains, even the tress, animals and fish are against the Globalists and their lackeys.
The focus of the Green revolution should not be on Nature but on those who have polluted the earth with the blood and bones of the righteous people. They must be apprehended and brought to justice. Their greed and desire for cheap labor and cheap resources will bring about their doom and no amount of correcting the forces of Nature will suffice because Nature has done nothing but showered her blessings upon man, so why should we think nature needs to be cleaned up—no, it is man that must be cleaned or eliminated from the planet.
Mother Nature is angry and no amount of pacification will work because you are the problem, not Mother Nature. Again, you have no intention to clean up yourself, but to persist in your wickedness, spreading it throughout the earth. You have now turned the poor children of Iraq into prostitutes by killing their mothers and fathers, just as you have done in the ghettoes of America, wherein babies eleven, twelve and thirteen are whoring because many of them are abused, abandoned and homeless.
In Iraq, the young girls are discarding the Muslim dress for jeans with sparkles so they can get money for food, just as the ghetto girls are doing, whoring to pay their cell phone bill and by hair weave.
No, Mother Nature does not need correction, she knows how to heal herself without your assistance, for she has been around for billions of years while you have just arrived from the caves of Europe.
You need to forget about Mother Nature because she is coming after you and all those who behave like you, all who want to be robbers, pimps, thugs, ganstas and killers. See if you can fight Mother Nature when her earthquakes hit, hurricanes and the tsunamis that are on the way.
You must bow down and submit to Mother Nature, asking her forgiveness for destroying her people, robbing them and keeping them deaf, dumb and blind. Otherwise, you and your cosmetic attempt to appease her will be to no avail. In the end, you shall be wiped from the face of the earth. Mother Nature has revealed this truth to me. I speak in the name of the fish, cows, birds, bees, ants, rivers, creeks, oceans, hills, mountains, the sun, moon and stars. I speak in the name of the corn, the wheat, the rice and all the crops Mother Nature has provided man for his pleasure.
I speak in the name of the poor who have been robbed of their labor and natural resources so devils can live in heaven while the poor suffer in hell.
No, you need not bother with cleaning up anything but yourself, for it is highly doubtful you have the heart to do that, let alone tackle Mother Nature. Mother is well able to heal herself. Let’s see if you can heal your wickedness and injustice to her people.
--Dr. M
We urge you to order Dr. M's latest book HOW TO RECOVER FROM THE ADDICTION TO WHITE SUPREMACY, BLACK BIRD PRESS, POB 1317, PARADISE, CA 95967, $19.95.
The Green Revolution is not what you think, rather it is Nature in revolt against man, and man can do little when Nature is against him. He can try but the only solution is to correct himself otherwise Nature is going to consume him, yes, eat him alive, flooding the land by raising the sea level, drying up the water that will soon be more valuable than oil, polluting the food with bacteria making it inedible.
We see man trying to make changes in nature but not in himself, for he has no intention to give freedom and justice to the poor, but has come with an entirely new method of domination and exploitation called globalism that cares nothing about the welfare of nations, only profit. If people suffer, too bad, we must let free market forces play out, except when the exploitation is so blatant he will make minor adjustments as with the sub prime mortgage crisis. The government says it will help a few but most of the people, especially the poor who were the worse victims shall be homeless—once again, they have been robbed of their American dream.
But Nature shall not stop her fury until the white supremacy rulers and their running dogs have been removed from power, no matter what it takes—they have no weapons against nature, the sun, the moon and stars, the oceans, rivers and mountains, even the tress, animals and fish are against the Globalists and their lackeys.
The focus of the Green revolution should not be on Nature but on those who have polluted the earth with the blood and bones of the righteous people. They must be apprehended and brought to justice. Their greed and desire for cheap labor and cheap resources will bring about their doom and no amount of correcting the forces of Nature will suffice because Nature has done nothing but showered her blessings upon man, so why should we think nature needs to be cleaned up—no, it is man that must be cleaned or eliminated from the planet.
Mother Nature is angry and no amount of pacification will work because you are the problem, not Mother Nature. Again, you have no intention to clean up yourself, but to persist in your wickedness, spreading it throughout the earth. You have now turned the poor children of Iraq into prostitutes by killing their mothers and fathers, just as you have done in the ghettoes of America, wherein babies eleven, twelve and thirteen are whoring because many of them are abused, abandoned and homeless.
In Iraq, the young girls are discarding the Muslim dress for jeans with sparkles so they can get money for food, just as the ghetto girls are doing, whoring to pay their cell phone bill and by hair weave.
No, Mother Nature does not need correction, she knows how to heal herself without your assistance, for she has been around for billions of years while you have just arrived from the caves of Europe.
You need to forget about Mother Nature because she is coming after you and all those who behave like you, all who want to be robbers, pimps, thugs, ganstas and killers. See if you can fight Mother Nature when her earthquakes hit, hurricanes and the tsunamis that are on the way.
You must bow down and submit to Mother Nature, asking her forgiveness for destroying her people, robbing them and keeping them deaf, dumb and blind. Otherwise, you and your cosmetic attempt to appease her will be to no avail. In the end, you shall be wiped from the face of the earth. Mother Nature has revealed this truth to me. I speak in the name of the fish, cows, birds, bees, ants, rivers, creeks, oceans, hills, mountains, the sun, moon and stars. I speak in the name of the corn, the wheat, the rice and all the crops Mother Nature has provided man for his pleasure.
I speak in the name of the poor who have been robbed of their labor and natural resources so devils can live in heaven while the poor suffer in hell.
No, you need not bother with cleaning up anything but yourself, for it is highly doubtful you have the heart to do that, let alone tackle Mother Nature. Mother is well able to heal herself. Let’s see if you can heal your wickedness and injustice to her people.
--Dr. M
We urge you to order Dr. M's latest book HOW TO RECOVER FROM THE ADDICTION TO WHITE SUPREMACY, BLACK BIRD PRESS, POB 1317, PARADISE, CA 95967, $19.95.
Letter from A Mother on Jimmy, We're Going Mad
regina neequaye wrote:
Dr. MarvinX:
I read the above on the blacklist. Man, I can so identify. I used to invistigate child abuse for a living and man the things I saw. I am still recovering from the trauma and that has been about 10 years ago. But you know some parents are doing just what they need to do, and the children are still crazy. Case in point me, myself and I. I am a single mother of 3. I had my first child @ 16 and still managed to attend and graduate from University of Georgia right out of high school with the help of my mother. The kid I had @ 16 is also a college graduate. My son, who I raised alone, just completed his first semester of college and my 8 year old is in the gifted program at her school.
The problem is my kids do not have the common sense the lord gave a grape. I mean I have drilled in their heads the need to protect their freedom. This blunt smoking thing that people have going on is just outlandish. Both of my adult children smoke marijuana. I have tried and tried to tell them that eventually you will get caught and all of the education in the world will not mean a thing because in this country paritcularly after 9/11 there are not second chances. I saw it coming. I told my children that after 9/11 there will be extensive background checks to get a job and if you are a black man/woman, you don't want anything on your record, but do my kids get it? No, they think I am crazy and paranoid. I told them about a study I read where in New York City a white man with a felony could get a job before a black man with a degree. I just don't get it. The record should speak for itself. I am educated, gainfully employed, a published author, but the think I am crazy. They look at Jay Z and Beyonce' but particularly Jay Z. I ask them one day to tell me one thing they have read that Jay Z has done for the community he helped corrupt when he was a drug dealer. They can't think of one. I just don't get it.
It is like there is a 10 ft drop in the side walk and I am telling them it is there but they won't believe until they fall in and die. I just don't get it.
Home page: www.rneequaye.com
Author of 360 Degrees….Life is A Full Circle
ISBN 0-9718860-3-2
Available March 2008
Look out for "I am Going to Let You Love Me," coming soon
regina neequaye
Dr. MarvinX:
I read the above on the blacklist. Man, I can so identify. I used to invistigate child abuse for a living and man the things I saw. I am still recovering from the trauma and that has been about 10 years ago. But you know some parents are doing just what they need to do, and the children are still crazy. Case in point me, myself and I. I am a single mother of 3. I had my first child @ 16 and still managed to attend and graduate from University of Georgia right out of high school with the help of my mother. The kid I had @ 16 is also a college graduate. My son, who I raised alone, just completed his first semester of college and my 8 year old is in the gifted program at her school.
The problem is my kids do not have the common sense the lord gave a grape. I mean I have drilled in their heads the need to protect their freedom. This blunt smoking thing that people have going on is just outlandish. Both of my adult children smoke marijuana. I have tried and tried to tell them that eventually you will get caught and all of the education in the world will not mean a thing because in this country paritcularly after 9/11 there are not second chances. I saw it coming. I told my children that after 9/11 there will be extensive background checks to get a job and if you are a black man/woman, you don't want anything on your record, but do my kids get it? No, they think I am crazy and paranoid. I told them about a study I read where in New York City a white man with a felony could get a job before a black man with a degree. I just don't get it. The record should speak for itself. I am educated, gainfully employed, a published author, but the think I am crazy. They look at Jay Z and Beyonce' but particularly Jay Z. I ask them one day to tell me one thing they have read that Jay Z has done for the community he helped corrupt when he was a drug dealer. They can't think of one. I just don't get it.
It is like there is a 10 ft drop in the side walk and I am telling them it is there but they won't believe until they fall in and die. I just don't get it.
Home page: www.rneequaye.com
Author of 360 Degrees….Life is A Full Circle
ISBN 0-9718860-3-2
Available March 2008
Look out for "I am Going to Let You Love Me," coming soon
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
PLATO ON THE STREETS OF OAKLAND
"He's Plato teaching on the streets of Oakland."
--Ishmael Reed, author
When Marvin X is in Oakland at his 14th and Broadway outdoor classroom, before long a crowd of men and often women gather around to discuss a variety of topics, sometimes local politics since City Hall is across the street and many passer bys are associated with the Ron Dellums administration, such as OCURR's David Glover, and members of the Oakland Post newspaper stop by, including publisher Paul Cobb and photographer Gene Hazzard. There are passing artists such as dramatist Michael Lange, musician Agustus Hawkins,
rapper Ise Lyfe, singer Jeremiah and assorted youth and the many sick on their way inside Walgreen's Drug store for medication. Someone said there are those with little medication, too much medication and no medication who pass through. Recently a Black woman slapped a white man and called him bitch while black men stood watching. And a young man purchased a book while downing an energy drink. A sister said to him, "Brother, look like you need something to come down, not more energy." The brother was fired up.
But mostly the people are poor and mentally ill who frequent the area, although it is the crossroads of Oakland, so sooner or later everybody comes through. One businessman told Marvin he was taking advantage of the poor by selling his books to them.
Not so, most of the time he gives them away or for a 50% discount. One elderly lady got two $19.95 books recently for $5.00 after pleading poverty and illness to Plato. She was in a walker, but Plato sensed a little greed when she insisted on a book for her daughter.
He gave two books to a college student to calm her down after he told her she wasn't as dumb as she looked, when she informed him she had read Sonia Sanchez, Toni Morrison and others. She broke down because even though she is a 4.0 at USC, people have said she looked dumb all her life. Plato hugged her and tried to convince her he was only joking. You young people are too so sensitive, he said to her.
The Teacher is often visited by an Angel who wishes to remain anonymous. When the poor say they would like a book but have no money, the Angel pays full price for them. He often pays full price to send the Teacher’s books around the country and the world, especially to friends in Africa. A woman from China has stopped to inquire if he would like his books in China for the Chinese audience. Or would he like to get his books printed in China for the English speaking audience. The poet knows it is the thing to do since the major and minor publishers are getting books printed in China, even Black publishers.
And there is the poet sister who survived breast cancer, who always needs two dollars for a hamburger. And the brother who needs a dollar but will pass out leaflets for the teacher. He was hurt when he saw his teacher in white face demonstrating the addiction to white supremacy. On the recent international AIDS day, Plato gave out condoms. He also contacted his friends in the California legislature to see what they can do about condoms being contraband in jails and prisons, thus adding to the HIV/AIDS crisis in our community.
They told him they have been working on this but are being obstructed by the Correctional Officers Union and the reactionary, fake Christian Republicans. Yes, they are fake unless they are willing to do as theologian James Cone told Bill Moyers, "Come to terms with the cross and the lynching tree."
Now there are those better heeled Blacks who spend forty dollars for Dr. M’s five book collection, after seeing his books at De Lauer’s News down the block and wondering who the hell is Marvin X? In De Lauer's the five books would cost $100.00. By the way, Marcus Books doesn't do Marvin X! Is he too Black, too white, what? Too black for a black book store?
Few whites stop to chat with Plato, except a few who have heard him on KPFA and KPOO radio through the years, or have heard him read at anti-war rallies in San Francisco. But most of the whites keep their distance from his table of books, especially since they can see from afar his latest title HOW TO RECOVER FROM THE ADDICTION TO WHITE SUPREMACY. Few have purchased the book, only a mentally ill white man (at least he had enough sanity to want to recover from white supremacy) and an European from Ireland. One white came to the table, saw the book and told the poet, “That’s a bad word, white supremacy, a bad bad word.”
Now Ishmael Reed has observed the poet selling and says, “If you want to learn about motivation and inspiration, don’t spend all that money going to seminars and workshops, just go stand at 14th and Broadway and observe Marvin X in his classroom.”
Over the past 40 years, in academia and on the streets, Marvin X has mentored and inspired many outstanding students. Osby Davis, his student from Fresno State University, recently became the first black mayor of Vallejo, winning by two votes. Timothy Simon, appointed by the Governor to the Public Utilities Commission, gained black consciousness while in high school after seeing Marvin X’s myth-ritual dance drama Resurrection of the Dead (1972) at the poet’s Black Educational Theatre in San Francisco’s Fillmore, where actor Danny Glover also received training at Black Arts West Theatre, founded by Ed Bullins and Marvin X (1966).
And there is Bobby Seale, co-founder of the Black Panther Party, who received black consciousness after performing in Marvin’s second play Come Next Summer (1965).
Bobby recently told the poet he wanted a scene in his upcoming movie on his life about his role in Come Next Summer and how the play elevated his consciousness. Now Marvin was mentored by Bobby, Huey Newton and others when he attended Oakland’s Merritt College straight out of high school, 1962. In his play One Day in the Life includes a scene of his last meeting with Huey Newton, the two men acknowledge they taught each other.
And then there’s Eldridge Cleaver, without a doubt his most controversial student, that he first met on a visit to Soledad Prison as part of the Black Dialogue magazine crew who were invited to address the Black Culture Club, chaired by Eldridge and his lieutenant Bunchy Carter. Upon his release from prison, Marvin had Eldridge use his royalties from Soul on Ice to finance Black House, a political/cultural center in San Francisco, 1967. When Eldridge persisted in talking about armed struggle (he had Black House members reading Negroes with Guns by Robert F. Williams), Marvin took Eldridge to meet Bobby Seale and soon after he became minister of information of the Black Panther Party. When Eldridge returned from exile, he called upon Marvin to organize his Christian ministry. Tired of exile and after learning the left would not aide his return to the US, Eldridge claimed he saw Jesus in the moon and convinced right wing Christians to support him. Marvin became his brains, his body guard, secretary, driver, photographer and editor of his newsletter. After Black Christians feared working with the Eldridge Cleaver Crusades because white people might get them, Marvin hired a staff of fearless Black Muslims to operate his ministry. He traveled across the US and into Canada as Eldridge’s chief aide.
When they were on Crack and out of money, Marvin told Eldridge to sell the books in his extensive library, which he did until every book was gone, and then, at Marvin’s suggestion, he sold the book cases to Hurriyah.
His co-worker, revolutionary lover, Hurriyah Asar (Ethna X. Wyatt), introduced him to Victor Willis, a young singer, who starred in Marvin’s Resurrection of the Dead, then went on to become the lyricist and lead singer of the Village People. Victor said it was the spiritual energy from Resurrection that gave him the ability to tackle New York. A dancer from Resurrection, Jamilah Hunter, went on to dance with Shirley McClain and Alvin Ailey.
Nadar Ali (Bobby Jones) was recruited by Marvin for the Nation of Islam. Nadar became director of the University of Islam and later director of imports for the NOI, administering the Whiting fish project. He traveled the world for the Honorable Elijah Muhammad. He said he was on the balcony of his hotel in Chile when democratically elected president Allende was overthrown by the US imperialists.
Ayodele Nzinga, his student since he taught drama at Laney College, 1981, is presently working on her PhD, and yes, her thesis is on her teacher, with whom she has seen go through a myriad changes, from women to spirituality (are they the same, the poet asks?).
Ayo directed his play In the Name of Love at Laney and performed and co-directed ONE DAY IN THE LIFE, the longest running African American drama in Northern California.
It is a docudrama of Marvin addiction to drugs and recovery. Ayo stole the show with her performance as the Crack Ho. Along with Geoffrey Grier (son of Dr. William H. Grier ,co-author of Black Rage, the 60s classic on black psychopathology) and brother of comedian David Allen Grier, Plato counts among his students actor Geoffrey and J.B. Saunders. JB is considered an F student who is really an A student, but he can’t help but shot himself in the foot—in short, he lacks discipline to realize his greatness, thus he languishes in San Francisco’s Tenderloin.
And there is Fahizah Alim, recently retired writer at the Sacramento Bee. He mentored and inspired her to enter journalism. She is one of the most powerful women in Sacramento politics because as a journalist the Blacks utilized her pen to lobby for their causes in Sacramento, the state capitol.
And so it is. We suggest you stop at his classroom and seek his opinion. He was recently interviewed there by a graduate student from the University of California’s school of journalism, who is doing his thesis on the murder of Marvin’s friend, journalist Chauncey Bailey (see The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, www.San Francisco Bayview newspaper.com).
And the downtown youth are not oblivious to him. One older youth grabbed a youngster and made him ask Plato a question on any subject. You are invited to do the same.
On Saturday, December 15, 4pm, Plato will facilitate his Pan African Mental Health Peer Group at the Black Repertory Group Theatre, 3201 Adeline Street, Berkeley, one block south of the Ashby BART station.
Comments
rudolph lewis wrote:
Ishmael is wrong as usual. You seem more like a Mother Teresa, to me. Plato would not have such patience with the dregs of society -- Rudy
Marvin X replies:
Maybe yr right, Rudy, but it's taking a while for me not to insult people. As I said in How to Recover....I apologize for my rude and insulting behavior on the street--described by my actor JB Saunders as "theatre of assault." One brother said, "Nigguh you talked about me so bad when I passed by that I had to come back to buy your book. How much is the damn book?" The City of San Francisco passed a law to control me and a few others during my hustling days--it's an anti aggressive panhandling ordinance to stop the shakedown of tourists. m
"He's Plato teaching on the streets of Oakland."
--Ishmael Reed, author
When Marvin X is in Oakland at his 14th and Broadway outdoor classroom, before long a crowd of men and often women gather around to discuss a variety of topics, sometimes local politics since City Hall is across the street and many passer bys are associated with the Ron Dellums administration, such as OCURR's David Glover, and members of the Oakland Post newspaper stop by, including publisher Paul Cobb and photographer Gene Hazzard. There are passing artists such as dramatist Michael Lange, musician Agustus Hawkins,
rapper Ise Lyfe, singer Jeremiah and assorted youth and the many sick on their way inside Walgreen's Drug store for medication. Someone said there are those with little medication, too much medication and no medication who pass through. Recently a Black woman slapped a white man and called him bitch while black men stood watching. And a young man purchased a book while downing an energy drink. A sister said to him, "Brother, look like you need something to come down, not more energy." The brother was fired up.
But mostly the people are poor and mentally ill who frequent the area, although it is the crossroads of Oakland, so sooner or later everybody comes through. One businessman told Marvin he was taking advantage of the poor by selling his books to them.
Not so, most of the time he gives them away or for a 50% discount. One elderly lady got two $19.95 books recently for $5.00 after pleading poverty and illness to Plato. She was in a walker, but Plato sensed a little greed when she insisted on a book for her daughter.
He gave two books to a college student to calm her down after he told her she wasn't as dumb as she looked, when she informed him she had read Sonia Sanchez, Toni Morrison and others. She broke down because even though she is a 4.0 at USC, people have said she looked dumb all her life. Plato hugged her and tried to convince her he was only joking. You young people are too so sensitive, he said to her.
The Teacher is often visited by an Angel who wishes to remain anonymous. When the poor say they would like a book but have no money, the Angel pays full price for them. He often pays full price to send the Teacher’s books around the country and the world, especially to friends in Africa. A woman from China has stopped to inquire if he would like his books in China for the Chinese audience. Or would he like to get his books printed in China for the English speaking audience. The poet knows it is the thing to do since the major and minor publishers are getting books printed in China, even Black publishers.
And there is the poet sister who survived breast cancer, who always needs two dollars for a hamburger. And the brother who needs a dollar but will pass out leaflets for the teacher. He was hurt when he saw his teacher in white face demonstrating the addiction to white supremacy. On the recent international AIDS day, Plato gave out condoms. He also contacted his friends in the California legislature to see what they can do about condoms being contraband in jails and prisons, thus adding to the HIV/AIDS crisis in our community.
They told him they have been working on this but are being obstructed by the Correctional Officers Union and the reactionary, fake Christian Republicans. Yes, they are fake unless they are willing to do as theologian James Cone told Bill Moyers, "Come to terms with the cross and the lynching tree."
Now there are those better heeled Blacks who spend forty dollars for Dr. M’s five book collection, after seeing his books at De Lauer’s News down the block and wondering who the hell is Marvin X? In De Lauer's the five books would cost $100.00. By the way, Marcus Books doesn't do Marvin X! Is he too Black, too white, what? Too black for a black book store?
Few whites stop to chat with Plato, except a few who have heard him on KPFA and KPOO radio through the years, or have heard him read at anti-war rallies in San Francisco. But most of the whites keep their distance from his table of books, especially since they can see from afar his latest title HOW TO RECOVER FROM THE ADDICTION TO WHITE SUPREMACY. Few have purchased the book, only a mentally ill white man (at least he had enough sanity to want to recover from white supremacy) and an European from Ireland. One white came to the table, saw the book and told the poet, “That’s a bad word, white supremacy, a bad bad word.”
Now Ishmael Reed has observed the poet selling and says, “If you want to learn about motivation and inspiration, don’t spend all that money going to seminars and workshops, just go stand at 14th and Broadway and observe Marvin X in his classroom.”
Over the past 40 years, in academia and on the streets, Marvin X has mentored and inspired many outstanding students. Osby Davis, his student from Fresno State University, recently became the first black mayor of Vallejo, winning by two votes. Timothy Simon, appointed by the Governor to the Public Utilities Commission, gained black consciousness while in high school after seeing Marvin X’s myth-ritual dance drama Resurrection of the Dead (1972) at the poet’s Black Educational Theatre in San Francisco’s Fillmore, where actor Danny Glover also received training at Black Arts West Theatre, founded by Ed Bullins and Marvin X (1966).
And there is Bobby Seale, co-founder of the Black Panther Party, who received black consciousness after performing in Marvin’s second play Come Next Summer (1965).
Bobby recently told the poet he wanted a scene in his upcoming movie on his life about his role in Come Next Summer and how the play elevated his consciousness. Now Marvin was mentored by Bobby, Huey Newton and others when he attended Oakland’s Merritt College straight out of high school, 1962. In his play One Day in the Life includes a scene of his last meeting with Huey Newton, the two men acknowledge they taught each other.
And then there’s Eldridge Cleaver, without a doubt his most controversial student, that he first met on a visit to Soledad Prison as part of the Black Dialogue magazine crew who were invited to address the Black Culture Club, chaired by Eldridge and his lieutenant Bunchy Carter. Upon his release from prison, Marvin had Eldridge use his royalties from Soul on Ice to finance Black House, a political/cultural center in San Francisco, 1967. When Eldridge persisted in talking about armed struggle (he had Black House members reading Negroes with Guns by Robert F. Williams), Marvin took Eldridge to meet Bobby Seale and soon after he became minister of information of the Black Panther Party. When Eldridge returned from exile, he called upon Marvin to organize his Christian ministry. Tired of exile and after learning the left would not aide his return to the US, Eldridge claimed he saw Jesus in the moon and convinced right wing Christians to support him. Marvin became his brains, his body guard, secretary, driver, photographer and editor of his newsletter. After Black Christians feared working with the Eldridge Cleaver Crusades because white people might get them, Marvin hired a staff of fearless Black Muslims to operate his ministry. He traveled across the US and into Canada as Eldridge’s chief aide.
When they were on Crack and out of money, Marvin told Eldridge to sell the books in his extensive library, which he did until every book was gone, and then, at Marvin’s suggestion, he sold the book cases to Hurriyah.
His co-worker, revolutionary lover, Hurriyah Asar (Ethna X. Wyatt), introduced him to Victor Willis, a young singer, who starred in Marvin’s Resurrection of the Dead, then went on to become the lyricist and lead singer of the Village People. Victor said it was the spiritual energy from Resurrection that gave him the ability to tackle New York. A dancer from Resurrection, Jamilah Hunter, went on to dance with Shirley McClain and Alvin Ailey.
Nadar Ali (Bobby Jones) was recruited by Marvin for the Nation of Islam. Nadar became director of the University of Islam and later director of imports for the NOI, administering the Whiting fish project. He traveled the world for the Honorable Elijah Muhammad. He said he was on the balcony of his hotel in Chile when democratically elected president Allende was overthrown by the US imperialists.
Ayodele Nzinga, his student since he taught drama at Laney College, 1981, is presently working on her PhD, and yes, her thesis is on her teacher, with whom she has seen go through a myriad changes, from women to spirituality (are they the same, the poet asks?).
Ayo directed his play In the Name of Love at Laney and performed and co-directed ONE DAY IN THE LIFE, the longest running African American drama in Northern California.
It is a docudrama of Marvin addiction to drugs and recovery. Ayo stole the show with her performance as the Crack Ho. Along with Geoffrey Grier (son of Dr. William H. Grier ,co-author of Black Rage, the 60s classic on black psychopathology) and brother of comedian David Allen Grier, Plato counts among his students actor Geoffrey and J.B. Saunders. JB is considered an F student who is really an A student, but he can’t help but shot himself in the foot—in short, he lacks discipline to realize his greatness, thus he languishes in San Francisco’s Tenderloin.
And there is Fahizah Alim, recently retired writer at the Sacramento Bee. He mentored and inspired her to enter journalism. She is one of the most powerful women in Sacramento politics because as a journalist the Blacks utilized her pen to lobby for their causes in Sacramento, the state capitol.
And so it is. We suggest you stop at his classroom and seek his opinion. He was recently interviewed there by a graduate student from the University of California’s school of journalism, who is doing his thesis on the murder of Marvin’s friend, journalist Chauncey Bailey (see The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, www.San Francisco Bayview newspaper.com).
And the downtown youth are not oblivious to him. One older youth grabbed a youngster and made him ask Plato a question on any subject. You are invited to do the same.
On Saturday, December 15, 4pm, Plato will facilitate his Pan African Mental Health Peer Group at the Black Repertory Group Theatre, 3201 Adeline Street, Berkeley, one block south of the Ashby BART station.
Comments
rudolph lewis
Ishmael is wrong as usual. You seem more like a Mother Teresa, to me. Plato would not have such patience with the dregs of society -- Rudy
Marvin X replies:
Maybe yr right, Rudy, but it's taking a while for me not to insult people. As I said in How to Recover....I apologize for my rude and insulting behavior on the street--described by my actor JB Saunders as "theatre of assault." One brother said, "Nigguh you talked about me so bad when I passed by that I had to come back to buy your book. How much is the damn book?" The City of San Francisco passed a law to control me and a few others during my hustling days--it's an anti aggressive panhandling ordinance to stop the shakedown of tourists. m
Jimmy, We're All Going Mad
"It's a wonder we haven't gone stark raving mad."
--James Baldwin
It was a cold December, 1968, when I interviewed James Baldwin. There was no heat in his New York apartment , but let it be known that forty years later his prophetic words have come true. Our sanity these days is highly questionable--of perhaps we should say that what used to be regarded as sanity is no longer valid, for what is normal in an abnormal world?
A few days ago I warned that this holiday season would be violent as usual, leading up to and including the climax on Superbowl Sunday, when women will be knocked upside their heads by irate, drunk mates when the love starved women stand in front of the giant HD TV to divert attention from the big game.
Indeed, we entered December with a bang: killings at the Mall, at the church and the school, along with persistent killing in the hood by the young savages we created, our loving children many of us abandoned for one reason or another--and not all were abandoned due to poverty--I know rich children who have been abandoned in their parent's mansions--of course their parents have other places of abode, but the children have been discarded and their mansion has been turned into a homeless shelter for their friends who are lost and turned out as well.
I visit them from time to time, give them any wisdom they seek from me, otherwise I say very little, just observe their pitiful attempt to make sense out of their madness. I see how they turn the mansion into a garbage dump and dope house. Of course they are crying out for love, and since their parents are unavailable, having thrown up their hands long ago, the children fend for themselves, eating cold cereal for breakfast, lunch and dinner, or pizza three or four times per week, for they have not learned the art of cooking. I tell them I will teach them but the kitchen is too filthy to cook and I refuse to wash their funky dishes that have been on the counter since the last time I visited some weeks ago. The boy keeps telling me his girlfriend is going to wash the dishes--a mantra I have heard for months--they are both 16 and living together--she ran away from home--her father is in prison, her brothers are thugs--don't know what the mother is but obviously the daughter doesn't want to stay with her.
Their friends are other discarded children, one young man is twenty, with a bullet lodged in his back that cannot be removed. He asked me if I always wanted to be a writer. I say yes, and what about you? "I don't know," he says with the utmost sincerity, "I don't know what I am or what I want to be." Poor child, I know I was never this lost, deaf, dumb and blind.
And so our children go to school, a totally meaningless endeavor, then spend the remainder of the day smoking blunts and God's only knows what else. I don't even want to know. Some things I don't bother to ask--I simply don't want to know, but I do know it doesn't bode will for their future or our future. The TV stays on BET, especially the American Gansta series that they watch repeatedly—perhaps in their dream to become the same. And then again, maybe it is just a sign of the times and we will get over this mountain and everything will be all ite. And maybe I’m dreaming too.
After taking a mother to the mental hospital to visit her son, I saw other youth who were so far gone they had to be committed: schizophrenia, paranoia, manic depression, you name it, they had it. One brother pranced about with a du-rag and cap, in tennis shoes with no strings--hell, if this is a sign of insanity, we have an entire generation dressed like him--surely he is quite normal! A mother was sitting with her daughter who repeatedly ran off and disappeared for days, and then returned to sit in a stupor. I gave her one of my books to read. Another young brother sat down near me. In fact, several of these young nuts were gathering around me as if to say, "Please help us." I gave the brother near me one of my books but he said he needed reading glasses. I promised him I would bring him some glasses. Another brother stood in back of me, making me somewhat nervous since he said nothing. I nodded, letting him know everything is all right, and he nodded in return and walked away. There was an Asian girl playing cards, and an Arab boy with a towel around his head.
We never got to see the mother's son; he had been sedated and put to sleep. And so it is, in the Crazy House Called America.
--Dr. M
On Saturday, Dr. M will conduct a session of his Pan African Mental Health Peer Group to Recover from the Addiction to White Supremacy. You are invited: Saturday, December 15,4pm, Black Repertory Group Theatre, 3201 Adeline Street, Berkeley, one block south of the Ashby BART station. Call 510-355-6339.
www.marvinxwrites.blogspot.com, www.nathanielturner.com, www.youtube.com.
email: mrvnx@yahoo.com.
"It's a wonder we haven't gone stark raving mad."
--James Baldwin
It was a cold December, 1968, when I interviewed James Baldwin. There was no heat in his New York apartment , but let it be known that forty years later his prophetic words have come true. Our sanity these days is highly questionable--of perhaps we should say that what used to be regarded as sanity is no longer valid, for what is normal in an abnormal world?
A few days ago I warned that this holiday season would be violent as usual, leading up to and including the climax on Superbowl Sunday, when women will be knocked upside their heads by irate, drunk mates when the love starved women stand in front of the giant HD TV to divert attention from the big game.
Indeed, we entered December with a bang: killings at the Mall, at the church and the school, along with persistent killing in the hood by the young savages we created, our loving children many of us abandoned for one reason or another--and not all were abandoned due to poverty--I know rich children who have been abandoned in their parent's mansions--of course their parents have other places of abode, but the children have been discarded and their mansion has been turned into a homeless shelter for their friends who are lost and turned out as well.
I visit them from time to time, give them any wisdom they seek from me, otherwise I say very little, just observe their pitiful attempt to make sense out of their madness. I see how they turn the mansion into a garbage dump and dope house. Of course they are crying out for love, and since their parents are unavailable, having thrown up their hands long ago, the children fend for themselves, eating cold cereal for breakfast, lunch and dinner, or pizza three or four times per week, for they have not learned the art of cooking. I tell them I will teach them but the kitchen is too filthy to cook and I refuse to wash their funky dishes that have been on the counter since the last time I visited some weeks ago. The boy keeps telling me his girlfriend is going to wash the dishes--a mantra I have heard for months--they are both 16 and living together--she ran away from home--her father is in prison, her brothers are thugs--don't know what the mother is but obviously the daughter doesn't want to stay with her.
Their friends are other discarded children, one young man is twenty, with a bullet lodged in his back that cannot be removed. He asked me if I always wanted to be a writer. I say yes, and what about you? "I don't know," he says with the utmost sincerity, "I don't know what I am or what I want to be." Poor child, I know I was never this lost, deaf, dumb and blind.
And so our children go to school, a totally meaningless endeavor, then spend the remainder of the day smoking blunts and God's only knows what else. I don't even want to know. Some things I don't bother to ask--I simply don't want to know, but I do know it doesn't bode will for their future or our future. The TV stays on BET, especially the American Gansta series that they watch repeatedly—perhaps in their dream to become the same. And then again, maybe it is just a sign of the times and we will get over this mountain and everything will be all ite. And maybe I’m dreaming too.
After taking a mother to the mental hospital to visit her son, I saw other youth who were so far gone they had to be committed: schizophrenia, paranoia, manic depression, you name it, they had it. One brother pranced about with a du-rag and cap, in tennis shoes with no strings--hell, if this is a sign of insanity, we have an entire generation dressed like him--surely he is quite normal! A mother was sitting with her daughter who repeatedly ran off and disappeared for days, and then returned to sit in a stupor. I gave her one of my books to read. Another young brother sat down near me. In fact, several of these young nuts were gathering around me as if to say, "Please help us." I gave the brother near me one of my books but he said he needed reading glasses. I promised him I would bring him some glasses. Another brother stood in back of me, making me somewhat nervous since he said nothing. I nodded, letting him know everything is all right, and he nodded in return and walked away. There was an Asian girl playing cards, and an Arab boy with a towel around his head.
We never got to see the mother's son; he had been sedated and put to sleep. And so it is, in the Crazy House Called America.
--Dr. M
On Saturday, Dr. M will conduct a session of his Pan African Mental Health Peer Group to Recover from the Addiction to White Supremacy. You are invited: Saturday, December 15,4pm, Black Repertory Group Theatre, 3201 Adeline Street, Berkeley, one block south of the Ashby BART station. Call 510-355-6339.
www.marvinxwrites.blogspot.com, www.nathanielturner.com, www.youtube.com.
email: mrvnx@yahoo.com.
On Speaking Truth to Power
Nefertiti El Muhajir
Well I didn't take the advice my father's friends gave him(see The Poem My Comrades To Me Not to Read). I had the opportunity this past year to speak at NY State Capitol in Celebration of MLK. I was supposed to provide a tribute to Rosa Parks, but when they received my script, they rejected it telling me it was too political. My father advised that I give them Miller Lite. I couldn't, I told them that they could find someone else. Someone once said that we should speak up so that we can speak again. I rather speak truth in all of its power, than speak anything else that will just tickle the ears of the listeners.
Tomorrow I will have to deal with my son's school. They have told him to write an apology to a cafeteria worker. The worker reprimanded my son for getting up to throw away his tray when he wasn't supposed to. He said that he was wrong for getting up without permission, but he also called the man a racist and was sent to the principals office. My son told me that everyday some other young white boys get up from their seats when they aren't supposed to and they are never reprimanded. We have to learn to speak truth even from a young age and call things as they are. The best way for us to teach our children is through our actions and not through anything that we can say. They see the truth in our actions and not merely in our words. Let us all speak truth and we have the power to liberate others who are bound in captivity.
Nefertiti El Muhajir
Well I didn't take the advice my father's friends gave him(see The Poem My Comrades To Me Not to Read). I had the opportunity this past year to speak at NY State Capitol in Celebration of MLK. I was supposed to provide a tribute to Rosa Parks, but when they received my script, they rejected it telling me it was too political. My father advised that I give them Miller Lite. I couldn't, I told them that they could find someone else. Someone once said that we should speak up so that we can speak again. I rather speak truth in all of its power, than speak anything else that will just tickle the ears of the listeners.
Tomorrow I will have to deal with my son's school. They have told him to write an apology to a cafeteria worker. The worker reprimanded my son for getting up to throw away his tray when he wasn't supposed to. He said that he was wrong for getting up without permission, but he also called the man a racist and was sent to the principals office. My son told me that everyday some other young white boys get up from their seats when they aren't supposed to and they are never reprimanded. We have to learn to speak truth even from a young age and call things as they are. The best way for us to teach our children is through our actions and not through anything that we can say. They see the truth in our actions and not merely in our words. Let us all speak truth and we have the power to liberate others who are bound in captivity.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
The Poem My Comrades Told Me Not To Read
Because It Ain’t Nothing Nice
Negro black block
Negro black block
Negro black block
Negro
Black man
Block man
Will you hide the truth while you know?
Will you hide the truth while you know?
Negro black block
Negro black block
Forty years of lies omissions revisions
But truth shall prevail
Negro black block
Black man/ block man
Sun Ra taught
Watch out for block man and woman
They will block at every turn
Stand at the crossroads with hat in hand
Blocking for the master
Sucking ass for the master
Negro black block
Will you hide the truth while you know
Even half truths are no better than lies
Where are the warriors who fought
Where are the warrior women
Can they not teach
Are they handicapped
After forty years
Where are the freedom schools
Liberation universities
Radical institutions of blackness
We shed blood for
Went to jail for
Cried in the night for
Hid in safe houses for
Went into exile for
Where are the radical teachers
Who teach out the box of white supremacy
Who defy academic insanity to cross the line beyond reaction and submission
Negro black block
How did the mission of blackness get aborted
How did Hirum remain in the shallow grave
After we dug him out
You gave him just enough water to quench his thirst
But where is the fire of his elders
Where is the torch of freedom
Why is fear over the land
Fear rides in the minds
Negro black block
Negro black block
Will you hide the truth while you know
Will you hide the truth while you know
Let the water flow
Let truth be told
Let the elders speak truth to power
Yes, black scholars can be revolutionary
Is is difficult, Baraka asks
Is it difficult to stand on two feet
In the tradition of those who stood before
Who suffered and bled
Who fought and cried in the night
Let the new soldiers step to the front of the line
Let them stand on shoulders strong and stiff from battles long ago
Yet still on the battlefield in the fourth quarter of our lives
For we shall never give up
Tradition compels us to speak and act even in old age
We fight with truth the mighty weapon
We shall tell our story the way it happened
Not the way “they” want it to be
Whoever the fuck “they” is
This is the way it happened
This is why it happened
Up from negroe to black
To teach the masses simple things
To read ancestor tales to soothe our minds
To prepare for battle
Not fairy tales and nursery rhymes
For sleepy time tea nigguhs
We wrote ghetto tales of black fire
Who put the fire out
Who killed the flame
Who made the children passive and punkish
Full of fear and weakness
Only enough will to kill each other
Who killed the truth
Where is the black arts message
Hidden forty years
messengers forbidden to speak
one or two allowed to utter a word
Black Arts wasn’t one or two poets
It was thousands coast to coast
East coast west coast Midwest dirty south
Black arts was black liberation
Not a poetry slam but a slam in the face of capitalism
Black arts was revolution in the land
Black students black arts black liberation
Black students black arts black liberation
Black studies
Radical studies on the street
In the barber shop
In the club
Teach the truth
No watered down bullshit
No miller lite poppycock
Black studies is low down dirty truth
It will get you fired
It will get you killed
It will make your wife leave in the night
Yo husband will run out the door screaming
This is black studies
Stop the music in the club and teach
Stop the music at the party and teach
Tell the truth to dispel lies
Tell the truth to wake up the dead
Will you hide the truth while you know?
Will you hide the truth while you know?
young troopers fall by the wayside
Knowing no connection to yesterday
Hence no vision of tomorrow
A job
a poem full of poppycock
talk to your elders
search them out before they transition
truth is underground
dig it up
search the ghetto streets for your teachers
no, they never got tenured
but they yet speak in bars and clubs
some bitter
some depressed
some almost gone
but speak with them
get the wisdom they hold
stories to inspire you to be bold and uncompromising as they were
you can do it
is it difficult
is it like being lynched
is it difficult
is it like picking cotton from can’t see to can’t see
is it difficult, Baraka asks
negro black block
negro black block
don’t hide truth while you know
don’t hide truth while you know.
--Dr. M (Marvin X)
11/10/07
On Saturday, December 15, 4pm, Dr. M will conduct a session of his Pan African Mental Health Peer Group at the Black Repertory Theatre, 3201 Adeline St., Berkeley.
Because It Ain’t Nothing Nice
Negro black block
Negro black block
Negro black block
Negro
Black man
Block man
Will you hide the truth while you know?
Will you hide the truth while you know?
Negro black block
Negro black block
Forty years of lies omissions revisions
But truth shall prevail
Negro black block
Black man/ block man
Sun Ra taught
Watch out for block man and woman
They will block at every turn
Stand at the crossroads with hat in hand
Blocking for the master
Sucking ass for the master
Negro black block
Will you hide the truth while you know
Even half truths are no better than lies
Where are the warriors who fought
Where are the warrior women
Can they not teach
Are they handicapped
After forty years
Where are the freedom schools
Liberation universities
Radical institutions of blackness
We shed blood for
Went to jail for
Cried in the night for
Hid in safe houses for
Went into exile for
Where are the radical teachers
Who teach out the box of white supremacy
Who defy academic insanity to cross the line beyond reaction and submission
Negro black block
How did the mission of blackness get aborted
How did Hirum remain in the shallow grave
After we dug him out
You gave him just enough water to quench his thirst
But where is the fire of his elders
Where is the torch of freedom
Why is fear over the land
Fear rides in the minds
Negro black block
Negro black block
Will you hide the truth while you know
Will you hide the truth while you know
Let the water flow
Let truth be told
Let the elders speak truth to power
Yes, black scholars can be revolutionary
Is is difficult, Baraka asks
Is it difficult to stand on two feet
In the tradition of those who stood before
Who suffered and bled
Who fought and cried in the night
Let the new soldiers step to the front of the line
Let them stand on shoulders strong and stiff from battles long ago
Yet still on the battlefield in the fourth quarter of our lives
For we shall never give up
Tradition compels us to speak and act even in old age
We fight with truth the mighty weapon
We shall tell our story the way it happened
Not the way “they” want it to be
Whoever the fuck “they” is
This is the way it happened
This is why it happened
Up from negroe to black
To teach the masses simple things
To read ancestor tales to soothe our minds
To prepare for battle
Not fairy tales and nursery rhymes
For sleepy time tea nigguhs
We wrote ghetto tales of black fire
Who put the fire out
Who killed the flame
Who made the children passive and punkish
Full of fear and weakness
Only enough will to kill each other
Who killed the truth
Where is the black arts message
Hidden forty years
messengers forbidden to speak
one or two allowed to utter a word
Black Arts wasn’t one or two poets
It was thousands coast to coast
East coast west coast Midwest dirty south
Black arts was black liberation
Not a poetry slam but a slam in the face of capitalism
Black arts was revolution in the land
Black students black arts black liberation
Black students black arts black liberation
Black studies
Radical studies on the street
In the barber shop
In the club
Teach the truth
No watered down bullshit
No miller lite poppycock
Black studies is low down dirty truth
It will get you fired
It will get you killed
It will make your wife leave in the night
Yo husband will run out the door screaming
This is black studies
Stop the music in the club and teach
Stop the music at the party and teach
Tell the truth to dispel lies
Tell the truth to wake up the dead
Will you hide the truth while you know?
Will you hide the truth while you know?
young troopers fall by the wayside
Knowing no connection to yesterday
Hence no vision of tomorrow
A job
a poem full of poppycock
talk to your elders
search them out before they transition
truth is underground
dig it up
search the ghetto streets for your teachers
no, they never got tenured
but they yet speak in bars and clubs
some bitter
some depressed
some almost gone
but speak with them
get the wisdom they hold
stories to inspire you to be bold and uncompromising as they were
you can do it
is it difficult
is it like being lynched
is it difficult
is it like picking cotton from can’t see to can’t see
is it difficult, Baraka asks
negro black block
negro black block
don’t hide truth while you know
don’t hide truth while you know.
--Dr. M (Marvin X)
11/10/07
On Saturday, December 15, 4pm, Dr. M will conduct a session of his Pan African Mental Health Peer Group at the Black Repertory Theatre, 3201 Adeline St., Berkeley.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Winter
Winter has come
Summer is gone
I look into your eyes
Your vibrations are strong….
Trees bare
Air still
Lizards run from wood pile
Old Mercedes
Leaking power steering fluid
I will die with my Mercedes
Like Janis Joplin
She has been loyal
Caused me little trouble
Old as I am
Breaking down by the day
If I would stay from the wicked city
She would last until my funeral
A sip of rum with orange juice
Grenadine and limon
This is my day
I write I write I write
I dream of a young lady
In her 30s
My daughter said,
“Dad, you like them 30’s girls.”
Only if they are secure in themselves
Don’t bug me
Let me write and write and write
I will make love to you in the night
Only if you let me write and write and write.
Jimmy is on the organ
Smith and McGriff
The Hammond
For those who know
If you don’t know
I can’t help ya.
Sun is out
Maybe I’ll walk
To the lemon tree
See if they are ready
Paid $3.00 for a bag of lemons at the store
In the city
Lemons spoil on the trees
I will go to my friend’s house
And bag them all
People in the city
Only buy lemons from the store
In the city
Lemons fall to the ground and rotten
Oranges as well
Mexicans sell oranges for $5.00 per bag
Negroes buy them
Won’t pick oranges off their trees
If not from the Mexican, then the store.
In the city
All is from the supermarket
Even the people
Buy them for two dollars a bag
Cook them in olive oil
Might taste good
Nothing comes from trees
Milk doesn’t come from cows
from the store
Ask the kids
They don’t want milk from no cow
Are you crazy
Don’t want no eggs from no chicken
Even when the chicken comes into their house
Sits on couch to lay her eggs
While the rooster watches TV.
--marvin x
Winter has come
Summer is gone
I look into your eyes
Your vibrations are strong….
Trees bare
Air still
Lizards run from wood pile
Old Mercedes
Leaking power steering fluid
I will die with my Mercedes
Like Janis Joplin
She has been loyal
Caused me little trouble
Old as I am
Breaking down by the day
If I would stay from the wicked city
She would last until my funeral
A sip of rum with orange juice
Grenadine and limon
This is my day
I write I write I write
I dream of a young lady
In her 30s
My daughter said,
“Dad, you like them 30’s girls.”
Only if they are secure in themselves
Don’t bug me
Let me write and write and write
I will make love to you in the night
Only if you let me write and write and write.
Jimmy is on the organ
Smith and McGriff
The Hammond
For those who know
If you don’t know
I can’t help ya.
Sun is out
Maybe I’ll walk
To the lemon tree
See if they are ready
Paid $3.00 for a bag of lemons at the store
In the city
Lemons spoil on the trees
I will go to my friend’s house
And bag them all
People in the city
Only buy lemons from the store
In the city
Lemons fall to the ground and rotten
Oranges as well
Mexicans sell oranges for $5.00 per bag
Negroes buy them
Won’t pick oranges off their trees
If not from the Mexican, then the store.
In the city
All is from the supermarket
Even the people
Buy them for two dollars a bag
Cook them in olive oil
Might taste good
Nothing comes from trees
Milk doesn’t come from cows
from the store
Ask the kids
They don’t want milk from no cow
Are you crazy
Don’t want no eggs from no chicken
Even when the chicken comes into their house
Sits on couch to lay her eggs
While the rooster watches TV.
--marvin x
Note from Mi Amigo Poet Jose Angel Figueroa of NYC
Hola Marvin:
Good to hear from you brother. And it was certainly a pleasure to be reading
and sharing the same stage with you. Let's keep in touch. Perhaps some day we could read together again, elsewhere. I'm beginning to read your wonderful book (Land of My Daughters, poems) - Aloud! There's no way that the silence(s) in your poems could remain...quiet. There is a spiritual faucet of images, an outcry (un grito), humming deep and wild. And after I read your poetry, a ring keeps bouncing off my ears. Must be that preacher in you,that poet who has learned to dance with hurricanes!
Un abrazo, Jose Angel
jose angel figueroa
Marvin X 2005 East Coast Tour:
Marvin X read with Jose on September 30, 2005, at the Bowery Poetry Club, NYC, a benefit for Katrina victims, including poet Kalamu Ya Salaam. Poets present included Amiri Baraka, Suheir Hamad, and a hundred others. On October 1 at St. Marks Poetry Project, Marvin X read with Toni Morrison, Baraka and a hundred others.
On Monday, October 10, Marvin X read at New York University, honoring the memory of Black Arts Movement poet Yusef Iman, organized by his daughter Malika. Those present included East co-founder Jitu Weusi, Mr. and Mrs. Herman Ferguson, City Councilman Charles Barron("For his mental health, every black man should slap a white man.") Also present was an associate of Malik Shabazz, Abdullah Razzaq. Accompanied by flutist/poet Atiba Wilson, Marvin rocked the house with his poems "What If" and "You Don't Know Me." Marvin's daughter Muhammida attended the event. She is now her father's agent: Sun in leo, inc./international mareketing/pr events: 718-574-6331/muhammida@suninleo.com.
The poet departed New York for the dirty south, arriving at Atlanta's Morehouse college, but he first stopped at Spellman, reading to the women on partner violence. The women were shocked at his raw language but did not argue with his message. They showed up the next night when he spoke with the Morehouse men. Aside for his anti-violence message, he stressed the need for them to heed the quote on the statue of Dr. Martin Luther King on campus, "...He moved from the classroom to the community."
Friday, September 14, he arrived at the Millions More Movement, Washington DC, to vend his books at the event that was a great festival.
His Washington DC host was Baba Lumumba of the Umoja House Gallery, who gave him a book party on Sunday. Baba is an Oakland native who co-founded the Northern California chapter of the Black Panther Party that existed briefly before the Black Panther Party of Self Defense. (Know your history, black people.)
Marvin X concludes his national book tour on Wednesday at the University of Virginia, Charlettesville.
Hola Marvin:
Good to hear from you brother. And it was certainly a pleasure to be reading
and sharing the same stage with you. Let's keep in touch. Perhaps some day we could read together again, elsewhere. I'm beginning to read your wonderful book (Land of My Daughters, poems) - Aloud! There's no way that the silence(s) in your poems could remain...quiet. There is a spiritual faucet of images, an outcry (un grito), humming deep and wild. And after I read your poetry, a ring keeps bouncing off my ears. Must be that preacher in you,that poet who has learned to dance with hurricanes!
Un abrazo, Jose Angel
jose angel figueroa
Marvin X 2005 East Coast Tour:
Marvin X read with Jose on September 30, 2005, at the Bowery Poetry Club, NYC, a benefit for Katrina victims, including poet Kalamu Ya Salaam. Poets present included Amiri Baraka, Suheir Hamad, and a hundred others. On October 1 at St. Marks Poetry Project, Marvin X read with Toni Morrison, Baraka and a hundred others.
On Monday, October 10, Marvin X read at New York University, honoring the memory of Black Arts Movement poet Yusef Iman, organized by his daughter Malika. Those present included East co-founder Jitu Weusi, Mr. and Mrs. Herman Ferguson, City Councilman Charles Barron("For his mental health, every black man should slap a white man.") Also present was an associate of Malik Shabazz, Abdullah Razzaq. Accompanied by flutist/poet Atiba Wilson, Marvin rocked the house with his poems "What If" and "You Don't Know Me." Marvin's daughter Muhammida attended the event. She is now her father's agent: Sun in leo, inc./international mareketing/pr events: 718-574-6331/muhammida@suninleo.com.
The poet departed New York for the dirty south, arriving at Atlanta's Morehouse college, but he first stopped at Spellman, reading to the women on partner violence. The women were shocked at his raw language but did not argue with his message. They showed up the next night when he spoke with the Morehouse men. Aside for his anti-violence message, he stressed the need for them to heed the quote on the statue of Dr. Martin Luther King on campus, "...He moved from the classroom to the community."
Friday, September 14, he arrived at the Millions More Movement, Washington DC, to vend his books at the event that was a great festival.
His Washington DC host was Baba Lumumba of the Umoja House Gallery, who gave him a book party on Sunday. Baba is an Oakland native who co-founded the Northern California chapter of the Black Panther Party that existed briefly before the Black Panther Party of Self Defense. (Know your history, black people.)
Marvin X concludes his national book tour on Wednesday at the University of Virginia, Charlettesville.
You are invited to a Pan African Mental Health Peer Group
Saturday, December 15, 4pm,
Black Repertory Group Theatre
3201 Adeline Street, Berkeley
You are cordially invited to attend the next session of the Pan African Mental Health Peer Group to recover from the addiction to white supremacy, based on the 12 step model. Why be depressed during the holidays? Come talk with people who want to heal from the stress of white supremacy culture. Let's discuss why you want to beat your mate, or why you sleep with someone you hate, or why you are taking your mother to court over her property.
Why do you want to kill your brother because he looks at you the wrong way? Why do you hate your children, or why do your children hate you? Let's work out some of these issues
These are times of great stress. We don't know what will happen minute to minute. Can you go to the Mall safely, can you go to church or the mosque, can you walk safely to the grocery store?
We recently took a mother to the mental hospital to visit her son. We were shocked to see young people so stressed out they had to be committed. We must heal ourselves because there are not enough mental health workers to go around. This is why we are calling for the establishment of peer groups where we can begin the healing process, as prescribed by Dr. Nathan Hare, our esteemed clinical psychologist and sociologist.
The peer group session is Saturday, December 15, 4pm at the Black Repertory Group Theatre, 3201 Adeline Street, Berkeley, one block south of the Ashby BART. Call 510-355-6339.
"Who knows but it may be that Dr. M's movement of recovery from addiction to and from white supremacy is offering us a final and effective chance to begin to "sit down together," to get together and get our heads together.
--Dr. Nathan Hare, author, the Black Ango-Saxons,
father of Black Studies
Thanks to Dr. M, we now have a universal approach with the Pan African 13 Steps, so we can begin to learn to love, encourage others to love and finally end the vicious cycle of self hate.
--Ptah Allah El (Tracy Mitchell)
Marvin X wrote:
The Black Bird—A Fable
By Marvin X
The cage door was always open, but the little bird wouldn't come out. He loved the cage, he had been in it so long. Other birds would fly into the white house and beg the little bird to come out, but he wouldn't. Sad, the other birds would fly away home to paradise, their hearts white with anger and sorrow for their lost brother who loved the cage. "He is so hard-headed, "the other birds said on their way home, "but we will get him out, we will get him out...." He was a smart bird. Nobody could tell him anything—except his master.
He could sing too. When the master sang, the little bird sang. He knew all of the master's songs by heart. He didn't like to sing bird songs. From all around, people came to see him do tricks. The little bird knew a lot of tricks the master had trained him to do when visitors came to the white house. He was a good house pet. The little bird was so good his master always left his cage door open; he knew the little bird had forgotten what freedom was. "Come, fly away to freedom with us," the other birds would say. But the little bird didn't want to go for self! "I like being in a cage," he said. "You birds are the crazy ones—get away from me!!!"
For days and days, the black bird would sit in the cage looking at himself in the mirror. "He is such a beautiful black bird," all the visitors said. "Yes," the master said, "I have a good bird." To himself, the master said, "This little black fool has made me rich doing tricks and he's too dumb to fly away to freedom—what a stupid bird!"
The master would feed the bird crumbs from his table. The little bird loved the crumbs so much he wouldn't eat anything else, not even when the other birds sneaked into the master's house and offered the little bird some righteous soulfood.
One day the master's house caught on fire. Nobody knew how the fire started, not even the little black bird. The master fought hard to put the fire out, but there were too many flames, so he ran outside, leaving the little black bird behind. The flames grew bigger and bigger, but the little black bird just sat in his cage. Maybe he was waiting for his master to return....
Then, suddenly, a friendly bird flew into the burning white house, "Black bird!" he yelled, "don't you know the house is on fire??? Hurry—come fly away with me!" "But I love my cage," the black bird cried, "I want to stay!"
"You want to burn," said the friendly bird. The friendly bird went into the cage, grabbed the black bird and flew away from the burning house. "Bye, master," the black bird yelled as he passed his master who was crying in the yard. "Bye, master," the little bird called out again—he was on his way home.
(c)1968, 2007
The Black Bird is Marvin X's classic fable written in 1968. Many children were taught this story by conscious parents, including journalist Wanda Sabir of the San Francisco Bayview newspaper.
* * * * *
Order his latest book HOW TO RECOVER FROM THE ADDICTION TO WHITE SUPREMACY, BLACK BIRD PRESS, $19.95. POB 1317, PARADISE CA 95967. Foreword by Dr. Nathan Hare, Afterword by Ptah Allah El. Marvin X is available for speaking and readings: 510-355-6339
* * * * *
I…welcome reading the work of a “grassroots guerilla publicist” who is concerned with the psychological/intellectual freedom of his people.
I think of Walter Rodney as the “guerilla intellectual” who was organically connected to the grassroots. Key book here would be The Groundings With My Brothers [and sisters]. Or Steve Biko’s I Write What I Like. I think though that Dr. M. is closely affiliated with Frances Cress Welsing’s Isis Papers: Keys to the Colors (along with Bobby Wright’s thesis….) Of course we need to also consult Dr. Nathan Hare’s The Black Anglo Saxons, and Frazier’s Black Bourgeoisie. What I am most impressed with is Dr. M’s Pan-Africanist perspective.
--Dr. Mark Christian
"He's the new Malcolm X! Nobody's going to talk about his book out loud, but they'll hush hush about it. It's very straight and plain. They talked about the things I wrote in my book, but wait til you read Marvin's!
--Mother Jerri Lange, Bay Area Black Media Legend
For more sharings by Marvin X, go to www.marvinxwrites.blogspot.com, www.nathanielturner.com, www.youtube.com.
Saturday, December 15, 4pm,
Black Repertory Group Theatre
3201 Adeline Street, Berkeley
You are cordially invited to attend the next session of the Pan African Mental Health Peer Group to recover from the addiction to white supremacy, based on the 12 step model. Why be depressed during the holidays? Come talk with people who want to heal from the stress of white supremacy culture. Let's discuss why you want to beat your mate, or why you sleep with someone you hate, or why you are taking your mother to court over her property.
Why do you want to kill your brother because he looks at you the wrong way? Why do you hate your children, or why do your children hate you? Let's work out some of these issues
These are times of great stress. We don't know what will happen minute to minute. Can you go to the Mall safely, can you go to church or the mosque, can you walk safely to the grocery store?
We recently took a mother to the mental hospital to visit her son. We were shocked to see young people so stressed out they had to be committed. We must heal ourselves because there are not enough mental health workers to go around. This is why we are calling for the establishment of peer groups where we can begin the healing process, as prescribed by Dr. Nathan Hare, our esteemed clinical psychologist and sociologist.
The peer group session is Saturday, December 15, 4pm at the Black Repertory Group Theatre, 3201 Adeline Street, Berkeley, one block south of the Ashby BART. Call 510-355-6339.
"Who knows but it may be that Dr. M's movement of recovery from addiction to and from white supremacy is offering us a final and effective chance to begin to "sit down together," to get together and get our heads together.
--Dr. Nathan Hare, author, the Black Ango-Saxons,
father of Black Studies
Thanks to Dr. M, we now have a universal approach with the Pan African 13 Steps, so we can begin to learn to love, encourage others to love and finally end the vicious cycle of self hate.
--Ptah Allah El (Tracy Mitchell)
Marvin X
The Black Bird—A Fable
By Marvin X
The cage door was always open, but the little bird wouldn't come out. He loved the cage, he had been in it so long. Other birds would fly into the white house and beg the little bird to come out, but he wouldn't. Sad, the other birds would fly away home to paradise, their hearts white with anger and sorrow for their lost brother who loved the cage. "He is so hard-headed, "the other birds said on their way home, "but we will get him out, we will get him out...." He was a smart bird. Nobody could tell him anything—except his master.
He could sing too. When the master sang, the little bird sang. He knew all of the master's songs by heart. He didn't like to sing bird songs. From all around, people came to see him do tricks. The little bird knew a lot of tricks the master had trained him to do when visitors came to the white house. He was a good house pet. The little bird was so good his master always left his cage door open; he knew the little bird had forgotten what freedom was. "Come, fly away to freedom with us," the other birds would say. But the little bird didn't want to go for self! "I like being in a cage," he said. "You birds are the crazy ones—get away from me!!!"
For days and days, the black bird would sit in the cage looking at himself in the mirror. "He is such a beautiful black bird," all the visitors said. "Yes," the master said, "I have a good bird." To himself, the master said, "This little black fool has made me rich doing tricks and he's too dumb to fly away to freedom—what a stupid bird!"
The master would feed the bird crumbs from his table. The little bird loved the crumbs so much he wouldn't eat anything else, not even when the other birds sneaked into the master's house and offered the little bird some righteous soulfood.
One day the master's house caught on fire. Nobody knew how the fire started, not even the little black bird. The master fought hard to put the fire out, but there were too many flames, so he ran outside, leaving the little black bird behind. The flames grew bigger and bigger, but the little black bird just sat in his cage. Maybe he was waiting for his master to return....
Then, suddenly, a friendly bird flew into the burning white house, "Black bird!" he yelled, "don't you know the house is on fire??? Hurry—come fly away with me!" "But I love my cage," the black bird cried, "I want to stay!"
"You want to burn," said the friendly bird. The friendly bird went into the cage, grabbed the black bird and flew away from the burning house. "Bye, master," the black bird yelled as he passed his master who was crying in the yard. "Bye, master," the little bird called out again—he was on his way home.
(c)1968, 2007
The Black Bird is Marvin X's classic fable written in 1968. Many children were taught this story by conscious parents, including journalist Wanda Sabir of the San Francisco Bayview newspaper.
* * * * *
Order his latest book HOW TO RECOVER FROM THE ADDICTION TO WHITE SUPREMACY, BLACK BIRD PRESS, $19.95. POB 1317, PARADISE CA 95967. Foreword by Dr. Nathan Hare, Afterword by Ptah Allah El. Marvin X is available for speaking and readings: 510-355-6339
* * * * *
I…welcome reading the work of a “grassroots guerilla publicist” who is concerned with the psychological/intellectual freedom of his people.
I think of Walter Rodney as the “guerilla intellectual” who was organically connected to the grassroots. Key book here would be The Groundings With My Brothers [and sisters]. Or Steve Biko’s I Write What I Like. I think though that Dr. M. is closely affiliated with Frances Cress Welsing’s Isis Papers: Keys to the Colors (along with Bobby Wright’s thesis….) Of course we need to also consult Dr. Nathan Hare’s The Black Anglo Saxons, and Frazier’s Black Bourgeoisie. What I am most impressed with is Dr. M’s Pan-Africanist perspective.
--Dr. Mark Christian
"He's the new Malcolm X! Nobody's going to talk about his book out loud, but they'll hush hush about it. It's very straight and plain. They talked about the things I wrote in my book, but wait til you read Marvin's!
--Mother Jerri Lange, Bay Area Black Media Legend
For more sharings by Marvin X, go to www.marvinxwrites.blogspot.com, www.nathanielturner.com, www.youtube.com.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Marvin X Replies to Cara Stanley:
Cara, thank you so much for your kind words. I hesitate to reply before digesting them thoroughly since there is much truth in your remarks. Of course all black people live and work in a generally hostile environment, even though many would claim they have a "good job" free of racism--for the most part, this is simply denial. As per working with white people, very few of them have deconstructed their white supremacy thinking and behavior, thus we are sometimes subtle victims of their dominating actions, resulting in us contracting their dis-eases, leading, yes, to death.
Black men are not dying in academia because in many cases they have been excluded, so they have the luxury of dying in the streets like common dogs. Even our high profile brothers go out this way.
Yes, women have a tremendous burden, aside from being women, they must often dawn the persona of men, especially when forced to be the sole parent. And clearly, strong black women find it difficult to secure a mate who is their equal, who understands them intellectually and spiritually, and who is determined to stand and stay with them until death do us part.
But conscious women and men must of necessity go far beyond the call of duty in teaching and mentoring. And yes, it is many times a thankless job, yet we push on with unconditional love, simply because it is our duty to "teach the uncivilized." But we are often guilty, men and women, of not following that adage: physician heal thyself. In our love of community, we ignore self love and healing. We sacrifice everything until we are physically and mentally exhausted--the body tired and diseased because we are lazy with caring for self, rejuvenating self, taking time for RR, continuously ignoring the fact that our health is our wealth. As a man, I am guilty of neglecting myself, especially when it comes to exercise and socializing. I am addicted to sitting on my behind at the computer, even when a walk in the woods is at my doorstep. This is laziness pure and simple.
As per women, I have lost female friends and lovers who died from smoking, drugs, alcohol and other addictions. As a result, I am traumatized when I see a woman with a cigarette in her mouth.
And the fact that HIV/AIDS is the leading cause of death among black women 24 to 34 is agonizing, especially since I have three daughters in this age range. But as you say, where is the alarm bells for the health epidemic in our community, especially among our women. We seem to think our problems will be solved by singing Silent Night. In truth, they will only be solved by individual and collective action, by all of us standing together as a conscious force for radical healing and liberation. We cannot isolate ourselves in academia, rather we must reach out to the community in general, letting them know we are one and indivisible. We who are educators must be like the professor in Akila and the Bee, determinded to assist the ghetto child while in the process healing himself.
Peace and Love,
Dr. M (Marvin X)
Reply from Cara to Marvin X’s “Is the University of California Killing Black Women Professors ?”
Good morning,
I believe the issue of Black women dying in their prime is more complicated than a hostile white environment. America is a hostile environment for Black people. I think how we as Black women are socialized plays a tremendous role in our dying far too soon.
We are taught at an early age to forego our own needs, wants and desires for the good of the community. The politics of respectability place a heavy burden on the backs of Black women along with the tacit responsibility of being strong for everyone in every situation. I did not know Sherley Williams, but I did know June, Barbara and VeVe.
What I do know as a Black Cal graduate and Cal staff member for the past twenty years, is that these three sisters loved Black people. They took it upon themselves to support and mentor others in ways that many of their colleagues did not. They internalized the legacy of Race women and modeled commitment to and responsibility for the greater community.
What I think killed them, was how we as a larger community, admired and loved them from afar, yet we allowed them to not take care of themselves. We tend to glamorize the Black women soldiers without supporting and loving them. Black women are visible only when they are serving someone else or when we are dead.
In our daily living, we are ignored, pushed aside, and treated as not being worthy of nurturing, loving or resting. Otherwise, why we would sit silent as Black women die from AIDS, breast cancer, ovarian cancer, high blood pressure, obesity etc. Where is the call to save the endangered Black women? Why aren't Jesse and Al marching to bring attention to the health crisis of Black women?
If you think I am over dramatizing the issue, I ask one simple question, Why are our Black men in the same environments not dying in similar ways? Gender plays an important role in the way we live as Black people in America .
I challenge us to love one another as Black people. Let's make sure that we love ourselves enough to take time to make sure that we are healthy, sleeping, eating good diets, exercising and getting help with our depression. We are constantly in the pressure cooker of racist micro-aggressions and we need to manage them in productive ways. Alcohol , sex and drugs are not solutions, they just take the edge off.
It is with love for Barbara, June and VeVe, and Black people that I write this.
Ache,
-Cara
Cara, thank you so much for your kind words. I hesitate to reply before digesting them thoroughly since there is much truth in your remarks. Of course all black people live and work in a generally hostile environment, even though many would claim they have a "good job" free of racism--for the most part, this is simply denial. As per working with white people, very few of them have deconstructed their white supremacy thinking and behavior, thus we are sometimes subtle victims of their dominating actions, resulting in us contracting their dis-eases, leading, yes, to death.
Black men are not dying in academia because in many cases they have been excluded, so they have the luxury of dying in the streets like common dogs. Even our high profile brothers go out this way.
Yes, women have a tremendous burden, aside from being women, they must often dawn the persona of men, especially when forced to be the sole parent. And clearly, strong black women find it difficult to secure a mate who is their equal, who understands them intellectually and spiritually, and who is determined to stand and stay with them until death do us part.
But conscious women and men must of necessity go far beyond the call of duty in teaching and mentoring. And yes, it is many times a thankless job, yet we push on with unconditional love, simply because it is our duty to "teach the uncivilized." But we are often guilty, men and women, of not following that adage: physician heal thyself. In our love of community, we ignore self love and healing. We sacrifice everything until we are physically and mentally exhausted--the body tired and diseased because we are lazy with caring for self, rejuvenating self, taking time for RR, continuously ignoring the fact that our health is our wealth. As a man, I am guilty of neglecting myself, especially when it comes to exercise and socializing. I am addicted to sitting on my behind at the computer, even when a walk in the woods is at my doorstep. This is laziness pure and simple.
As per women, I have lost female friends and lovers who died from smoking, drugs, alcohol and other addictions. As a result, I am traumatized when I see a woman with a cigarette in her mouth.
And the fact that HIV/AIDS is the leading cause of death among black women 24 to 34 is agonizing, especially since I have three daughters in this age range. But as you say, where is the alarm bells for the health epidemic in our community, especially among our women. We seem to think our problems will be solved by singing Silent Night. In truth, they will only be solved by individual and collective action, by all of us standing together as a conscious force for radical healing and liberation. We cannot isolate ourselves in academia, rather we must reach out to the community in general, letting them know we are one and indivisible. We who are educators must be like the professor in Akila and the Bee, determinded to assist the ghetto child while in the process healing himself.
Peace and Love,
Dr. M (Marvin X)
Reply from Cara to Marvin X’s “Is the University of California Killing Black Women Professors ?”
Good morning,
I believe the issue of Black women dying in their prime is more complicated than a hostile white environment. America is a hostile environment for Black people. I think how we as Black women are socialized plays a tremendous role in our dying far too soon.
We are taught at an early age to forego our own needs, wants and desires for the good of the community. The politics of respectability place a heavy burden on the backs of Black women along with the tacit responsibility of being strong for everyone in every situation. I did not know Sherley Williams, but I did know June, Barbara and VeVe.
What I do know as a Black Cal graduate and Cal staff member for the past twenty years, is that these three sisters loved Black people. They took it upon themselves to support and mentor others in ways that many of their colleagues did not. They internalized the legacy of Race women and modeled commitment to and responsibility for the greater community.
What I think killed them, was how we as a larger community, admired and loved them from afar, yet we allowed them to not take care of themselves. We tend to glamorize the Black women soldiers without supporting and loving them. Black women are visible only when they are serving someone else or when we are dead.
In our daily living, we are ignored, pushed aside, and treated as not being worthy of nurturing, loving or resting. Otherwise, why we would sit silent as Black women die from AIDS, breast cancer, ovarian cancer, high blood pressure, obesity etc. Where is the call to save the endangered Black women? Why aren't Jesse and Al marching to bring attention to the health crisis of Black women?
If you think I am over dramatizing the issue, I ask one simple question, Why are our Black men in the same environments not dying in similar ways? Gender plays an important role in the way we live as Black people in America .
I challenge us to love one another as Black people. Let's make sure that we love ourselves enough to take time to make sure that we are healthy, sleeping, eating good diets, exercising and getting help with our depression. We are constantly in the pressure cooker of racist micro-aggressions and we need to manage them in productive ways. Alcohol , sex and drugs are not solutions, they just take the edge off.
It is with love for Barbara, June and VeVe, and Black people that I write this.
Ache,
-Cara
THE BLACK BIRD
A FABLE
BY
MARVIN X
C)1968, 2007
The cage door was always open, but the little bird wouldn't come out. He loved the cage, he had been in it so long. Other birds would fly into the white house and beg the little bird to come out, but he wouldn't. Sad, the other birds would fly away home to paradise, their hearts white with anger and sorrow for their lost brother who loved the cage. "He is so hard-headed, " the other birds said on their way home, "but we will get him out, we will get him out...." He was a smart bird. Nobody could tell him anything--except his master.
He could sing too. When the master sang, the little bird sang. He knew all of the master's songs by heart. He didn't like to sing bird songs. From all around, people came to see him do tricks. The little bird knew a lot of tricks the master had trained him to do when visitors came to the white house. He was a good house pet. The little bird was so good his master always left his cage door open; he knew the little bird had forgotten what freedom was. "Come, fly away to freedom with us, " the other birds would say. But the little bird didn't want to go for self! "I like being in a cage, " he said. "You birds are the crazy ones--get away from me!!!"
For days and days, the black bird would sit in the cage looking at himself in the mirror. "He is such a beautiful black bird," all the visitors said. "Yes," the master said, "I have a good bird." To himself, the master said, "This little black fool has made me rich doing tricks and he's too dumb to fly away to freedom--what a stupid bird!"
The master would feed the bird crumbs from his table. The little bird loved the crumbs so much he wouldn't eat anything else, not even when the other birds sneaked into the master's house and offered the little bird some righteous soulfood.
One day the master's house caught on fire. Nobody knew how the fire started, not even the little black bird. The master fought hard to put the fire out, but there were too many flames, so he ran outside, leaving the little black bird behind. The flames grew bigger and bigger, but the little black bird just sat in his cage. Maybe he was waiting for his master to return....
Then, suddenly, a friendly bird flew into the burning white house, "Black bird!" he yelled, "don't you know the house is on fire??? Hurry--come fly away with me!" "But I love my cage," the black bird cried, "I want to stay!"
"You want to burn," said the friendly bird. The friendly bird went into the cage, grabbed the black bird and flew away from the burning house. "Bye, master," the black bird yelled as he passed his master who was crying in the yard. "Bye, master," the little bird called out again--he was on his way home.
______________
The Black Bird is Marvin X's classic fable written in 1968. Many children were taught this story by conscious parents, including journalist Wanda Sabir of the San Francisco Bayview newspaper.
A FABLE
BY
MARVIN X
C)1968, 2007
The cage door was always open, but the little bird wouldn't come out. He loved the cage, he had been in it so long. Other birds would fly into the white house and beg the little bird to come out, but he wouldn't. Sad, the other birds would fly away home to paradise, their hearts white with anger and sorrow for their lost brother who loved the cage. "He is so hard-headed, " the other birds said on their way home, "but we will get him out, we will get him out...." He was a smart bird. Nobody could tell him anything--except his master.
He could sing too. When the master sang, the little bird sang. He knew all of the master's songs by heart. He didn't like to sing bird songs. From all around, people came to see him do tricks. The little bird knew a lot of tricks the master had trained him to do when visitors came to the white house. He was a good house pet. The little bird was so good his master always left his cage door open; he knew the little bird had forgotten what freedom was. "Come, fly away to freedom with us, " the other birds would say. But the little bird didn't want to go for self! "I like being in a cage, " he said. "You birds are the crazy ones--get away from me!!!"
For days and days, the black bird would sit in the cage looking at himself in the mirror. "He is such a beautiful black bird," all the visitors said. "Yes," the master said, "I have a good bird." To himself, the master said, "This little black fool has made me rich doing tricks and he's too dumb to fly away to freedom--what a stupid bird!"
The master would feed the bird crumbs from his table. The little bird loved the crumbs so much he wouldn't eat anything else, not even when the other birds sneaked into the master's house and offered the little bird some righteous soulfood.
One day the master's house caught on fire. Nobody knew how the fire started, not even the little black bird. The master fought hard to put the fire out, but there were too many flames, so he ran outside, leaving the little black bird behind. The flames grew bigger and bigger, but the little black bird just sat in his cage. Maybe he was waiting for his master to return....
Then, suddenly, a friendly bird flew into the burning white house, "Black bird!" he yelled, "don't you know the house is on fire??? Hurry--come fly away with me!" "But I love my cage," the black bird cried, "I want to stay!"
"You want to burn," said the friendly bird. The friendly bird went into the cage, grabbed the black bird and flew away from the burning house. "Bye, master," the black bird yelled as he passed his master who was crying in the yard. "Bye, master," the little bird called out again--he was on his way home.
______________
The Black Bird is Marvin X's classic fable written in 1968. Many children were taught this story by conscious parents, including journalist Wanda Sabir of the San Francisco Bayview newspaper.
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