(Color) Blind Readers

Q: Are there any stories you've written that you feel have been misunderstood?

A: I've tried to write stories that expect a reader to do some work, to go back and reconsider. I hope there are many layers to explore, not all of which may be tapped in one reading.....I feel that folks might gain from stories....if they look beyond them simply as stories about African-American life. That the characters are Black is important, but not as important as the other ideas and contexts that shape the complexities and realizations in those stories. --

William Henry Lewis (on his collection I Got Somebody in Staunton)


According to my tags on LibraryThing (aka Crack for Book Lovers), my bookshelves are not color-blind. Far and away, I have cataloged more of my books as "African American". My top three in fact (African-American, Poetry, and LGBTQ) could "tell you" quite a lot about me -- this guy likes reading about people like himself: Negroes, Poetizers, and those pesky same-sex types.

I don't think that's 100% accurate, but it's not far from wrong either. I think we all do this. Some folks, however, would rather not admit it.

Author David Anthony Durham recently wrote about the notion of a 'Color Blind Reader', suggesting that the idea was absurd on its face:

I'd be interested to ask each "color blind" reader when was the last time they read something by a black author. They might shrug and say, "I don't know. Remember, I don't pay attention to an author's race." My translation of that - they probably haven't read a black author since a college lit course, because if they had they'd KNOW they had. They’d remember it, and likely they’d have learned things from it....

For white readers that shop at Borders - when was the last time you went browsing for a novel in the "African-American" literature section? They'd likely respond with, "The what? There's not an African-American literature section. Black history section, sure, but..." To which I respond that yes, yes there is a section of Borders - usually a small corner about a shelf and half wide - where the vast majority of fiction by black authors is shelved....I know all of this because that's where my first two novels go - when they're actually stocked at all....So, to the "color blind" reader that has no idea they have NO CHANCE of coming across most black writers in the center of the store... I argue that the fact that you don't read with an awareness of color means that you're being a willing accomplice to institutional segregation. In that regard, being "color blind" also means being blind to a host of inequities, perspectives and realities that you would be able to see if you chose to acknowledge color and to see how much it affects all our lives. Doesn’t make being “color blind” seem so enlightened, does it?

Durham is a VERY good writer (many of us on staff here at the Library are quite high on both him and his work), and I admire him for the range and ambition of his works: Historical Fiction both US (Gabriel's Story and Walk Through Darkness) and World (Pride of Carthage: A Novel of Hannibal), and now S/F - Fantasy (Acacia). I admit to having a weakness for Ambitious Black Writers -- and his personal library (image below) gets me hot as well!:). I find myself agreeing with his take on 'color blindness' (Durham has also posted a number of responses to his post as well.)

Yes, I do keep coming back to people 'like me' in various ways, but in my reading I like to think I've ranged far and wide. Many times it's a conscious decision: I notice I've read a good deal of contemporary work, so I go back to Classics. Feeling overloaded with US voices, I make a decision to sneak some authors across the border. Too many men around? I'll go through a period of reading female authors. I am aware of who I'm reading, where they come from, take into account 'what they are' (gender, orientation, nationality, etc). I have other 'weaknesses' -- Latin American and Spanish authors, for example -- and I'm looking forward to one day immersing myself in Arabic Literature (beyond my crushes on Adonis and Darwish).

A new book by one of my favorite authors arrived at the library as I was thinking about this. Inner Workings: Literary Essays 2000-2005 by Nobel Laureate J. M. Coetzee, a follow up to his previous collection of essays and reviews, Stranger Shores. I note with interest that, in the new book, Coetzee writes about only two writers 'of color' (ie visibly 'non-white' or 'not European'), fellow Nobelists Gabriel Garcia Marquez and V. S. Naipaul. Caryl Phillips, Salman Rushdie and (Nobel winner)Naguib Mahfouz appear in the previous volume -- and I'm purposefully leaving out the brilliant, Eurocentric, "white" Argentinian Jorge Luis Borges.

Now, this is not an attack on Coetzee, nor am I suggesting that he review the latest Omarr Tyree joint. I simply have a suspicion that my bookshelves would be more diverse than his, even if I removed all the 'African American' tagged items. I find it interesting that he, like so many others, doesn't seem to stray too far afield from the realm of the Usual European Suspects....and only one woman (fellow South African Nobel Laureate Nadine Gordimer) in the mix as well.

One wonders if it would cross either his mind, or the mind of book review editors who propose titles and essays to him, to have him survey the work of an African-American author: Since there appears to be a weakness for the Nobel, how about Toni Morrison, or his fellow African Nobelist Wole Soyinka (he did have a review of a black African author in an earlier collection). How much do we really learn in the land of the (color) blind?

Imprisoned

"My alma mater was books, a good library... I could spend the rest of my life reading, just satisfying my curiosity." -- El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz

If Malcolm Little were behind bars today, would he have access to a range of texts? Could he discover the echoing marketplace of ideas in his prison library that would expand his mind and transform him into the brilliant Malcolm X? According to this article, perhaps not....and The Current Administration thinks that this is a good thing:


Prisons Purging Books on Faith From Libraries

Behind the walls of federal prisons nationwide, chaplains have been quietly carrying out a systematic purge of religious books and materials that were once available to prisoners in chapel libraries.

The chaplains were directed by the Bureau of Prisons to clear the shelves of any books, tapes, CDs and videos that are not on a list of approved resources. In some prisons, the chaplains have recently dismantled libraries that had thousands of texts collected over decades, bought by the prisons, or donated by churches and religious groups.

Traci Billingsley, a spokeswoman for the Bureau of Prisons, said the agency was acting in response to a 2004 report by the Office of the Inspector General in the Justice Department. The report recommended steps that prisons should take, in light of the Sept. 11 attacks, to avoid becoming recruiting grounds for militant Islamic and other religious groups. The bureau, an agency of the Justice Department, defended its effort, which it calls the Standardized Chapel Library Project, as a way of barring access to materials that could, in its words, “discriminate, disparage, advocate violence or radicalize.”

The Bureau of Prisons said it relied on experts to produce lists of up to 150 book titles and 150 multimedia resources for each of 20 religions or religious categories — everything from Bahaism to Yoruba.

Behind the walls of federal prisons nationwide, chaplains have been quietly carrying out a systematic purge of religious books and materials that were once available to prisoners in chapel libraries.....
The lists are broad, but reveal eccentricities and omissions....The bureau has not provided additional money to prisons to buy the books on the lists, so in some prisons, after the shelves were cleared of books not on the lists, few remained.

Timothy Larsen, who holds the Carolyn and Fred McManis Chair of Christian Thought at Wheaton College, an evangelical school, looked over lists for “Other Christian” and “General Spirituality”...“There are some well-chosen things in here,” Professor Larsen said...But he continued, “There’s a lot about it that’s weird.” The lists “show a bias toward evangelical popularism and Calvinism,” he said, and lacked materials from early church fathers, liberal theologians and major Protestant denominations.

So: in order to stave off Radical Islam (the purging started with Islamic texts, according to a source I have that works for the Prison Libraries here in Maryland), we toss out The HarperCollins Encyclopedia of Catholicism and those Pesky Protestants as well along with the Quran?

What's next on the "Offensive" list?

And whose bookshelves are next to be redacted?

How ironic that I pass by this exhibit on display in our Central Hall every day on my way to work. Although it's true: at this moment, nothings been consigned to the flames....yet! Except, perhaps, for whatever pride we might have had in the fact that, as Americans, we have the right to read what we like, write what we like, research any topic, and think for ourselves, even when behind bars.

Ciao Luciano!

Behind the huggy-bear, "I'm just a happy, regular overweight Italian guy who loves to sing" persona was a great and serious artist
The Washington Post

A fond farewell to the Great Tenor (and hero to 'men of size' everywhere). However, as the NY Times assessment of his career indicates (it’s hard to avoid feeling that he never completely fulfilled his potential, that he squandered some of his awesome talent by letting his enablers turn him from a hard working artist into an overindulged and sometimes clownish superstar), 'The King of the High C's' career does bring up an interesting dichotomy: Does one strive to be An Artist or A Star?

Pavarotti's name is synonymous with opera for many people, and millions watched or listened to him, and purchased his recordings who probably didn't understand a word he sang and had never heard opera before or since. Is that 'bad' in some way, to be a 'popularizer'? In a way similar to the late Beverly "Bubbles" Sills, he managed to introduce people to Art. We hope that some, perhaps small, portion of them continue to be enthralled by it.


Placido Domingo is doing more within the opera world, particularly thanks to his resuscitation efforts in Washington DC....and okay, someone should have said 'no' to Yes Giorgio, and he probably shouldn't have been as indulged as much as he was...but what a Voice! His 'showstopper' Nessun Dorma made me cry (again) this morning....And I wouldn't give up some of his 'High Culture meets Pop" duets for all the world....

Il Divo meets The Godfather (with a brief cameo appearance by Grace Jones)



Two Tons of Sound: Pavarotti and Barry White



Why Opera Lovers miss him: 'Una furtiva Lagrima' (A furtive tear) fromDonizetti's L'elisir d'amore

Sins of the Closet

... Here we go again!

Craig says 'I am not gay,' did no wrong
BOISE, Idaho - Under fire from leaders of his own party, Idaho Sen. Larry Craig on Tuesday the only thing he had done wrong was to plead guilty after a police complaint of lewd conduct in a men's room. He declared, "I am not gay. I never have been gay."

"I did nothing wrong at the Minneapolis airport," he said at a news conference with his wife, Suzanne, at his side....
According to the prosecutor's complaint, obtained Tuesday by The Associated Press, airport police Sgt. Dave Karsnia, who was investigating allegations of sexual conduct in airport restrooms, went into a stall shortly after noon on June 11 and closed the door.

Minutes later, the officer said he saw Craig gazing into his stall through the crack between the door and the frame.

After a man in the adjacent stall left, Craig entered it and put his roller bag against the front of the stall door, "which Sgt. Karsnia's experience has indicated is used to attempt to conceal sexual conduct by blocking the view from the front of the stall," said the complaint, which was dated June 25.

The complaint said Craig then tapped his right foot several times and moved it closer to Karsnia's stall and then moved it to where it touched Karsnia's foot. Karsnia recognized that "as a signal often used by persons communicating a desire to engage in sexual conduct," the complaint said.

Craig then passed his left hand under the stall divider into Karsnia's stall with his palms up and guided it along the divider toward the front of the stall three times, the complaint said.

The officer then showed his police identification under the divider and pointed toward the exit "at which time the defendant exclaimed `No!'" the complaint said.

The Aug. 8 police report says that Craig had handed the arresting officer a business card that identified him as a member of the Senate.

"What do you think about that?" Craig is alleged to have said, according to the report.



I think it's pretty sad. And pretty typical of people uncomfortable with their own sexuality. I also think gentlemen like the Senator are the reason why a lot of us are suspicious of those who are so adamantly against gay rights: They're arguing with themselves. The Lady doth protest too much, methinks...and not only me but others as well, including columnist Dan Savage as well, as he says in this CNN interview:

I remember many years ago being *terrified* to pick up one of Time magazine's 'special issues' with some gay (I think they used 'homosexual') topic blazed across the cover, out of fear that someone would see me looking at it and assume....correctly...that I was 'one of them.' IMHO some of the same dynamic is at work here. I can't support rights for 'those people' or else folks will think I'm One of Them (which, of course, I'm not. Just because I like to ....uh....well...you know....in public bathrooms, that doesn't make me "gay"....)

Senator Craig had been called on his extracurricular activites before. Mike Rogers at blogactive made an attempt to drag him out of the closet (the Devil in me wants to say, lift him up off his knees...) back in October of last year, going so far as to track down men who the Senator had had encouters with in other mens rooms, including the one in Washington DC's Union Station.

This is the way The Down Low works (and since I doubt the mainstream media will call the Senator "on the DL" because that term appears to ONLY apply to African-Americans and not white men leading a double life, like former Governor and rest stop enthusiast Jim McGreevey): engaging in risky behavior on the one hand while tossing out homo-hate with the other in an attempt to 'throw people off the scent' (remember Ted Haggard anyone?)

As I said, it's sad. Very sad.

I'm not saying that there would be no Tearoom Trade if everyone suddenly came out and the world shifted into being a better place for gay men and lesbians to live in. Considering men and the way we are sexually socialized, I suspect there would still be some guys who'd adopt the Senators 'wide stance' in the public loo. And having seen a heterosexual couple going at it in a public space usually reserved for same-sex activity, if straight men could go into bathrooms and fool around with women, they'd do it too. (I'm a fan of the idea of 'runs' SF writer Samuel R Delany created in his novel Stars in My Pocket Like Grains of Sand, designated areas where humans and non-humans alike went off to have guilt free sex).

I'm more interested in, and have been thinking about, something that my doctor calls 'being out as a sexual being.' People who are more comfortable with sex and their sexuality tend also to be more willing to take care of themselves (i.e. not engage in risky or possibly health-harming behavior). It's not about coming out of the closet, it's about self-recognition, and a comfort level with who you are, what your desires are, and how you like to have them met, and being able to express those desires to your partner(s) and those you care for.

Under the Bridge

Here's some literally breaking news from today:

Route 295 reopened in Prince George's Co.
Chunks of concrete fell from bridge over parkway; no crashes or injuries reported
By a Sun reporter
2:35 PM EDT, August 24, 2007

The Baltimore Washington Parkway has been reopened after being closed earlier this afternoon when chunks of concrete fell from a bridge onto the roadway.

Shortly after noon, fist-sized pieces of concrete fell from the Greenbelt Road Bridge onto the northbound lanes of the parkway in Prince George's County, according to the United States Park Police. No crashes or injuries were reported but both the bridge and the parkway beneath the bridge were closed. As of 2:30 p.m., all lanes on both roads were open.

In the initial confusion after the parkway was closed, it was unclear which level of government was responsible for the bridge. A state highway administration spokesman said it was a federal bridge, while the park police spokesman said he understood that it was a state-owned bridge.






If only "infrastructure" were sexy!





What does it take for us to wake up? A bridge in Minnesota. Flooded subways in New York City, and prior to that, an explosion that shot steam and debris hundreds of feet into the air. Sinkholes here in Baltimore.

I'm not a "lets turn our back on the world" style America-First-er here, by any means, but geeze!

When are we going to take care of ourselves, of our own foundations? Do we need to 'declare war' on it? That has seemed to be a good way to get people in motion: Perhaps we need A War on Error! Those falling bridges want to rob us of our Freedom (to drive)! Maybe then we'd get some serious focus on it (and I can break out my long held belief that we need another WPA style rehabilitation program, or a domestic Marshall Plan). Sadly, we live in an age when "it's somebody else's problem, not mine" is the order of the day. And no one wants to pay taxes!

We've done it before, we can do it again. If only it were pretty (and, of course, CHEAP)!

An essential part of any successful action on the part of the United States is an understanding on the part of the people of America of the character of the problem and the remedies to be applied. Political passion and prejudice should have no part. With foresight, and a willingness on the part of our people to face up to the vast responsibilities which history has clearly placed upon our country, the difficulties I have outlined can and will be overcome. General George Marshall

Beauty or the Brain?

"And it’s not that we haven’t desired our AfroBoHo icons (damn near all nerds in reality) in sexual terms — I’m thinking of the Stephen Shames photo of a bare-chested Huey Newton holding a copy of a Bob Dylan album (which incidentally graces the cover of Robert Reid-Pharr’s new book Once You Go Black), and have you seen Zadie Smith lately, for that matter — but we are disturbed when our heroes speak back to our desires."
Mark Anthony Neal



I've been trying to figure out a way to say this for some time.

Years ago, the wonderful writer and editor Carol Taylor had a sign up in her NYC loft that read "Eroticize Intelligence." To me that had a number of meanings. One was to recognize that the best 'sexual organ' in the body is the brain: if your mind's not engaged, no matter what you're doing with the rest of the body, it's not going to be truly 'hot.' Also, since Carol is both very smart and very sexy, to me it meant that there was not and should not be some kind of division between those two attributes: one can put Einstein's brain in (insert name of favorite hottie here)'s body, and...umm... 'double your pleasure/double your fun" as it were.

So much of what passes for 'mainstream black culture' today celebrates the one-dimensional 'thug' image. Erotically that falls in with old-line stereotypes of blacks (men in particular) as purely physical beings, animals without brains, great in bed but dumb as dirt. You want them to be waiting for you when you come home at night for an evening's throwdown, but the idea of actually trying to talk to them, having a conversation, or being seen in public with them is anathema. Introduce them to your friends? No way. And lord help you if you try to have a meal with them (other than a McBurger combo meal) since they probably don't know how to deal with silverware.

Somehow this dumb brute image has returned, and we are (being forced to?) aspire to it.

We live with other stereotypes as well, namely that good looking people obviously can't be smart. Or that it is somehow 'wrong' to think of intelligent people as physical beings, crush objects for both their brains and their 'brawn' or whatever. It's "big head vs little head" (for us guys), one thing or the other. Either they're brainy or their beautiful, and never the twain will meet. And the idea that someone smart is also a physical being filled with desires and needs? Disgusting, Shocking and Impossible!!

Frack that!

There are any number of (black) people who are whip-smart and slap-yo-momma gorgeous. It's time we recognize that and honor them. I've had the pleasure of meeting and in some cases becoming friends with folk who I find both physically and mentally attractive. It is one hell of a rush to see that mix, and I don't think there's anything wrong with that. (I've considered listing some of my favorite 'hot brain' folks but am afraid it would just get too long...although I really do feel the ...um...urge?...to give a shout out to Michael Eric Dyson, my friends John and Ernest, Elizabeth Alexander, Tayari Jones, the late Ed Bradley, who I want to be like when I grow up....see what I mean, and I haven't even got started in good yet!)

I don't feel that I am 'trivializing' these people or their brain power to say that these folks are also p-h-Y-n-e as well. If anything, the combination is and should be a great turn-on. There is nothing better than having an intense and stimulating conversation and intellectual interaction, followed up by an intense and stimulating physical interaction, where you give your bodies a chance to speak.

I'm with Carol: Black Nerds of the world Unite! It's time to "Eroticize Intelligence"! You have nothing to lose (not even the horn-rimmed glasses -- in fact keep 'em on: They're sexy!)

Late Summer Reading

One of my sisters and I are both members of the Black Expressions Book Club (I think she joined before I did). It is one of those 'Book-of-the-Month' type clubs that sells 'exclusive' (i.e. inexpensive hardback) copies of titles by African-American authors. My sister was on the verge of dropping them, however, because of her disappointment in the types of books the club choses to promote. Most issues are filled with a great deal of what the book business calls 'urban fiction:' stories from 'da hood,' featuring "thugs" and their women; or variations on the 'girlfriend' genre, made popular by Terri McMillan. A couple of things that don't fit these molds are there as well but for the most part these are our choices -- in addition to Christian literature, cookbooks, a few financial books, and a selection of DVDs.

Since in the main I don't read "urban lit" I really don't want to comment on it. The subject matter for the most part doesn't appeal to me, and looking through the pages of some of the works, the style (...or lack thereof...) of the writing doesn't appeal to me either, although there are exceptions. The Library's Young Adult/Youth Services person here speaks highly of Tyrell, by author Coe Booth. By its cover and subject matter (a 15-year old living in a homeless shelter tries to keep his family together and avoid the easy money temptation of the drug trade) it looks a good deal like any number of other 'Urban' books, but the quality of the writing and character development, it's refusal to supply a stock solution to the Tyrell's problems, make it a cut above the rest. So you really can't judge a book by it's cover.

I've recently been (re)reading work by black (and for the most part male) novelists of the 1960s and '70's: John A. Williams (photo at left), William Demby, William Melvin Kelley, John Oliver Killens and Rosa Guy, all of them very good writers, 'political' without being polemical, writers 'of their times' (and the Black Arts Movement) in the best sense of the word. And, sadly, for the most part not very well known to many readers today (Rosa Guy is much better known as a Young Adult author these days). The great wave of black women writers that came after them, with Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, and Ntozake Shange at its crest, seems to have washed them away from the collective memory. I thought this was a shame, and was curious about why that happened.

I've been thinking about this since The Other Half recently asked me for a list of '25 books every black man should read before age 40' -- one of those impossible tasks that folks ask people to perform on a regular basis. He was asking because his co-workers (or at least the black men under 40 he works with) think he's pretty intelligent and up on things, and wonder how he got to be that way.

The question really is impossible, of course. There are so many great titles to choose from, and how do you limit it to 25? And, for me at least, it tends to change from week to week, as I think of more things which excited me and lead, I suspect, to the formation of my world view. I asked some writer friends for suggestions as well for suggestions as well. Here's mine (not in any real order):

1 The Souls of Black Folk by W. E. B. Dubois

2 Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison

3 Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass

4 The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin

5 For colored girls who have considered suicide when the rainbow is enuf by Ntozake Shange

6 Native Son by Richard Wright

7 Their Eyes were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston

8 Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison

9 The Color Purple by Alice Walker

10 The Autobiography of Malcolm X

11 Brutal Imagination by Cornelius Eady

12 The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

13 Fences by August Wilson

14 Manchild in the Promised Land by Claude Brown

15 Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler

16 The Chaneysville Incident by David Bradley

17 I Have a Dream: Writings and Speeches That Changed the World by Dr Martin Luther King, Jr.

19 The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

20 Meditations of Marcus Aurelius

21 The Constitution/Declaration of Independence

22 The Plague by Albert Camus

23 Let the Dead Bury Their Dead by Randall Kenan

24 A Gathering of Old Men by Ernest J Gaines

25 Cane by Jean Toomer

As you might imagine, these are some of the works that deeply influenced me, helping to make me the person I am today. Not all of them are by African-American authors, or even had black people in mind when they were written, but all, I think, tell us something about the nation and the world we live in, and offer ways with which to navigate through it. You may also note I've included some works usually considered "women's books" to the list. It seemed essential for me to do that (their works have helped to save my life over the years).

FYI: Authors most frequently mentioned (their names/works came up more than twice) when I asked this question of friends and fellow writers were: Alice Walker, August Wilson, Frederick Douglass, James Baldwin, John Edgar Wideman, Langston Hughes, Malcolm X, Richard Wright, Toni Morrison, W. E. B. Dubois, and Walter Mosley.

Most frequently mentioned texts (again they got more than two mentions) were: Works by Baldwin and Wideman (people said "Anything" by these two), Black Boy and Native Son by Richard Wright, theater by August Wilson ("Collected Plays," Fences, "Joe Turner's Come and Gone"), works of Langston Hughes (Collected Poems, The Big Sea, The Ways of White Folks), novels by Walter Moseley (his 'Easy Rawlins' and 'Fearless Jones' series), The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, Song of Solomon and The Bluest Eye (Morrison), The Color Purple (Walker), The Fire Next Time (Baldwin), and DuBois'The Souls of Black Folk.


Emperor Marcus says: Go Forth and Read!

Barry, Barry, Barry!

I want to extend my heartiest congratulations to Mr. Barry Bonds, new Major League Baseball home run king. Last night he broke Hank Aaron's record of 755 career home runs. His is an amazing achievement, no matter how you slice it.

One day, I hope we will have a serious, sustained conversation about steroids, and other performance-enhancing drugs and other technological assistants (like Lance Armstrong's oxygen tent). For now however, thanks in part to the radioactive combination of Race and Sports, it doesn't seem possible to do that. All folks can do now it seems is scream at Barry Bonds.

People talk about Bonds getting bigger over the years (So have I, btw: it's hard for even me to believe that I could once pack myself into a pair of size 29 jeans, but I did it in 1984). His shoe size has grown. And look at that big bald head!


These same folks also forget that, so far, Barry has not tested positive for steroids (It's also difficult to say how, exactly, steroids would assist someone in hitting a little round ball with a big wooden stick. Seems to me you might need a bit of skill and talent for that in the first place). Nor do many remember the death threats, bad press, and snubbing from the then Baseball Commissioner that Henry Aaron got as he approached (Baltimore's own) Babe Ruth's "sacred record."

Okay, so Barry's not a 'nice person.' He's 'short on people skills.' He's 'surly' ... although somehow the Giants got him to dress up as Paula Abdul for their "American Idol" style mild hazing of the rookies this past year...I guess it's hard to be surly when you're up in a dress!





Sadly, this is often the case when a person of color doesn't want to play "the game." They become the "big scary black man" of SOME peoples obsessions (cf my previous post!) I'm reminded of the Baltimore Orioles' own 'surly' superstar, Eddie Murray. I remember the chants of "Ed-die! Ed-die" in the stands during his glory years. He too was not a great schmoozer of the local sports press, and was chided for being a 'dull' interview, non-responsive, aloof, surly.

When Ted Williams was here and inducted into the Hall of Fame 37 years ago, he said he must have earned it because he didn't win it because of his friendship with the writers. I guess in that way I'm proud to be in his company that way. I was never one much on words. For me to focus a lot on the individual, that's not the way I learned to play the game. Baseball's a team game. You win as a team, you lose as team. You also do so many things together, but it is not an "I" thing. That is one reason why I didn't maybe have the friendship with the media maybe like I could have. But I had to do what I had to do to make myself successful. That's what I learned, and that's what I preach today to my kids. And I still believe it. (Eddie Murray's Hall of Fame induction speech, 7/27/2003). As his Wikipedia entry notes, Murray also gave kids from Baltimore's Northwood Baseball League a dozen autographed bats, 24 autographed baseballs and 100 autographed Hall of Fame programs. Not bad for someone "surly and aloof."

One of my co-workers fits the profile of the big scary black man, tall, bald, thick. He's like a human wall coming toward you. The guy also has a great personality, very warm and friendly, and is, in some ways, just a 'big kid.' I'm sure that this is really him, that his ebullience is genuine, but I've also found myself wondering how much of his personality was formed in order to put others at ease, so they would NOT be afraid of him. Not everyone has this ability to be 'nice', however, in order to allay other's fears. Should they then be judged negatively for that?


It's also a dangerous thing for baseball fans to romanticize too much about 'the good old days', although it seems to be woven into the fabric of the game. Babe Ruth was overweight, and had huge appetites for food, alcohol, and women. Ty Cobb was a racist (as were many other players of that era), and flat out mean to many people. While sports radio blares on and on about putting an asterisk next to Barry's name in the record books, I and many others wonder if we should also be considering doing the same thing next to the names of all those 'greats' who never had to face the amazing cornucopia of talent that was the Negro Leagues.

As Dave Zirin commented to me prior to his program here at the Library in Baltimore, white sports figures are usually 'given their humanity.' They are allowed to make mistakes, be fragile, and are also allowed to redeem themselves. Black and other players of color are seen as extensions of the equipment, simply cogs in a system, and often interchangeable (this is particularly true of Latino players). They...we (African-Americans in general, and black men in particular)...are something more than human when they're successful; something less than human when they fall.

In the hyperbolic world of sports talk, people's masks of politeness and correctness slip very easily. Folks think they can get away with saying just about anything. I urge us all to pay attention to the commentary that will be going around for the next week or so, or until the end of the season, as Bonds starts to approach 760 homers. Genuinely listen to what people have to say about him -- and think about what their comments says about them -- and us.

Bravo Barry!



Poetic coverage ("...on a cool Tuesday night near the shores of San Francisco Bay, 755 finally perished at the hands of a relentless, controversial invader from the west named Barry Lamar Bonds. Seven fifty-five is gone. Behold, 756.") from the Washington Post

Commentary from Salon's "King" Kauffman

Barry-mania from the San Francisco Chronicle

Dave Zirin on Barry ("756*")

(Still) Brutal Imagination

I was going to blog about other things (like this week's buzz word 'infrastructure'), but then:

In 2001, Cornelius Eady published a great book of poetry, Brutal Imagination. Written in the persona of the imaginary black criminal Susan Smith invented to take the blame for the drowning death of her children, the book also takes on the voice of other African-American stereotypes (like Uncle Tom and Steppin Fetchit), and ends with "The Running Man" series, about a bookish young black man who becomes a criminal. It is one of those books of poems that is as moving and satisfying as a good novel.

I thought about that book on hearing about the lastest news from Florida State Representative Bob Allen. Allen has been charged with solicitiation of an undercover policeman in a public park. Turns out he didn't offer the policeman $20 for a blowjob, and really want sex: he was just afraid -- of Big Scary Black Men...and also the weather:

State Representative Bob Allen says he was feeling nervous and offered sex to get away from a man he didn't trust.

"This (undercover officer) is a pretty stocky black guy, and there's other black guys around in the park that—you know!"

Allen said he was also frightened of the weather. So he fled to the men's room.

"I said the building is safer than staying out here, so I went back in and I sat down."

He said he offered the man in the men's room what he thought he wanted, just so he could get out safely.

"I went ahhh -- I'm about to be a statistic. You catch all kinds of people, so a legislator is like whoa! You know, especially one that's the (police union) guy of the year...this is too ironic!"


As one of those 'stocky black guys', all I can say is, "Yeah, Ironic. That's the word I was looking for."


When called, I come.
My job is to get things done.
I am piecemeal.
I make my living by taking things.

"How I Got Born" by Cornelius Eady
From BRUTAL IMAGINATION (G.P. Putnam's Sons, 2001)

"Big Brother/Texas" (Black LGBT Writer Edition)

...or as poet Marvin K. White (shown at right posing for the paparazzi) called it, "Survivor, Lake Buchanan"

Back from an incredible few days outside Austin, Texas, at a retreat initiated by Redbone Press publisher Lisa Moore. Together with a reading at the Victory Grill in Austin, the weekend allowed a number of the authors she's published over the years to get together to meet, talk, share work, and bond (aka eat, drink, and live together), in a house overlooking the magnificent Lake Buchanan in the Texas Hill Country.



So often we hear: black men and black women don't get along. Gay men and lesbians can't work together. Get a bunch of black people together and they'll snipe and tear each other apart.






Artists and writers feud with each other all the time. People from different disciplines don't share a language with which to talk to each other....We all 'know' these are stereotypes, but sometimes it takes something as powerful as a weekend like this to bring home how wrong they really are. And also how there can be 'another way' for all of us to relate to ourselves and to each other. It was also wonderful and rare that artists from across so many different disciplines were able to talk and share work: poets, fiction writers, academics, visual and performance artists, critics...we really are the world! Most of the people there fell into more than one of these categories.




The venue was comfortable (even the couch I crashed on was wonderfully fluffy) with a stunning view of Lake Buchanan. My only caveat about the whole thing was how far FAR back in the hills the place was, and the two-lane highway => dirt road => goat path we had to take to get there. You know you're not in the city any more when a rabbit sits in the middle of the road and refuses to move for an SUV!

Otherwise, it was magnificent. And much too short. More, please, Ms Moore! What do you say: Same time next year?
Lisa and Eunice record for posterity

Farewells

Ingmar Bergman.

Almost singlehandedly, he turned "movies" into "films," and a space for serious philosophical exploration - then moved on to direct operas and write fiction. He should also be honored for introducing the world to Max von Sydow, Bibi Andersson, Liv Ullmann, and the Wizard of Light, cinematographer, Sven Nykvist (shown above with Bergman).


Tom Snyder

I remember staying up late to watch Synder's "Tomorrow Show" when I was growing up (I even saw his famous interview with Charles Manson, but was fortunately both too young and too tired to be as disturbed by it as I probably should have been). A strange man with weird hair, smoking constantly, with a wild laugh. But also someone very rare nowadays: An intelligent talk show host with a point of view that actually talked to his guests. It was like watching a conversation with the smart but crazy uncle everyone tells the kids to stay away from. Sometimes you didn't know what he would do, or what might happen on the show...no I take that back. You did know a couple of things: you wouldn't be bored, and you'd be both entertained and enlightened by Tom and his guests. How far both late night television and talk shows have fallen!

ADDENDA: News of the passing of Michaelangelo Antonioni hit the press on Tuesday, making Monday the 30th a particularly dark day for film fans. Again a very serious artist (more dour in interviews than Bergman, who could be surprisingly sunny considering his work), and one not afraid of occasionally maddening ambiguity (the [in]famous ending of “L’Eclisse” for example). Like Bergman, Antonioni used movies to ask questions, to make us think, however uncomfortable that might be, and not to have us just sit back and watch disengaged.

I want to be one of the artists of the cathedral that rises on the plain. I want to occupy myself by carving out of stone the head of a dragon, an angel or a demon, or perhaps a saint; it doesn’t matter; I will find the same joy in any case...I will never worry about the judgment of posterity or of my contemporaries; my name is carved nowhere and will disappear with me. But a little part of myself will survive in the anonymous and triumphant totality. Ingmar Bergman

On the (Writer's) Block: Fear

I can't go on. I'll go on. Samuel Beckett



As Joan Acocella pointed out in an article in The New Yorker, Writers Block in some ways began with Coleridge in the early 1800s, and developed into a wide spread disease in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries. The romantic image of the Suffering Artist, struggling to reconnect with The Muse flourished. It didn't hurt that many American writers of the early 20th Century -- Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Faulkner, etc -- were also prodigious drinkers (Tom Dardis' excellent The Thirsty Muse recounts some of their stories). There's nothing like being blotto to keep The Muse away, and destroy whatever artistic discipline they may have had. Interestingly, James Baldwin, not known for shying away from a good party, apparently also used to get up and write every morning, no matter what carousing he'd done the night before, and hungover guests would be awakened to the sound of him banging away on his typewriter.

I admire the dedication and work ethic of writers like Anthony Trollope who wrote a set number of words everyday before going to work in the post office, or Joyce Carol Oates, who can apparently write a novel while most of us are taking a shower and eating breakfast, or even Harry Potter's Mom, J. K Rowling, writing the seven title series at approximately 2 1/4 years per book. Me? I'm not mad at 'em, but, let's face it, I tend to be pretty lazy.

But I've been thinking about this subject, not so much because I'm blocked -- MY tendency is to do everything BUT write, rather than not being able to do so: I need to put in more Butt in Chair time -- but because it comes up from time to time whenever writers or artists get together. As always, I'm haunted by quotes: Samuel R. Delany's comment that "Not writing can be as much of a habit as writing" and Audre Lorde's command to her students to "Forget 'The Muse.' There is NO MUSE! You just sit down and work."

I wonder too, how much of our blockage (or my own hesitations) are based on Fear. Fear of failure, fear that we are exposing too much of ourselves in our work, even with names changed to protect the innocent and the guilty. Even a fear of success: I've often said to people who have hesitated before applying for positions or grants and the like, "What's the worst thing that could happen? You'll get it and then you'll be forced to do the work!" (Amazing how much easier it is to tell someone something than to do it yourself, huh?:)

And there is that very large fear that the work is not "just right" or "perfect." Waiting for it to be perfect, or working on something until it is 'Perfect' can be a huge stumbling block. I'm not referring to being slapdash or shoddy, what I mean is, to take a personal example, is literally changing just one word in a story at least ten times before thinking it worth while to be sent out. Perhaps I was channeling Flaubert!


John Shannon and Becky Schreiber of Schreiber Shannon Associates (link to their old website, soon to be updated) closed out the 2007 Maryland Library Leadership Institute with the following quote from Marianne Williamson. Parts of this I'd heard before, but it remains incredibly powerful, and resonates very, very deeply with me:



Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Marianne Williamson from A Return To Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles

So: What am I hiding by avoiding work? What 'old tapes' are playing in my head telling me I'm not worthy which stop me from writing, which hold me back from being my best? Interesting questions....

Eyes on Texas: The Redbone Press Revue

It's gonna be hot (and not just because the weatherman is calling for a weekend in the 90's!)


THE REDBONE REVUE: A READING OF BLACK LGBT WRITERS!
Sponsored by ALLGO

When: Friday, July 20, 2007
Time: Reading – 8:00 p.m. / Dance – 11:00 p.m.
Where: The Historic Victory Grill [1104 East 11th Street – Austin, TX 78702]
Cost: Donations Accepted!
Contact: Lorenzo Herrera y Lozano – (512) 472-2001 / lorenzo@allgo.org

For the first time ever, Austin will bear witness to a gathering of some of the most prolific LGBT Black writers in the country, the RedBone Revue. Hailing from across the United States, RedBone Press authors include: New York-based Samiya Bashir, Austin-based sharon bridgforth, Los Angeles-based Ernest Hardy, Baltimore-based Reginald Harris, New York-based G. Winston James, Austin-based Ana-Maurine Lara, D.C.-based Lisa C. Moore, and Oakland-based Marvin K. White.

A dance will immediately follow the performance with a live DJ spinning Hip Hop, R&B, Salsa, Merengue, Reggae and Reggaetón. So come prepared to experience a one-of-a-kind evening of artistic breadth and non-stop dancing until 2:00 a.m.

CLICK HERE FOR MORE INFORMATION ON THE ARTISTS!

Melvin Harris 1903-2007

(with Melvin in Annapolis, Thanksgiving 2005)

It's difficult for me to even begin to think about all the things I could say about my 'Uncle Melvin.' First off, to make it easier on myself and others I've been referring to him as my grandfather for a number of years. This is not accurate. He was, in fact, my grandfather's uncle-in-law, and married to my great aunt (i.e. my great grandfather's sister), Edna Harris. The explication of this blood tie, however, doesn't really do him justice because he and Edna were my main 'parents,' raising me here in Baltimore from when I was three years old. "Grandfather" while not to-the-letter true, comes closest to the mark. "Father" has some level of accuracy as well.

I would joke sometimes that underneath his somewhat gruff exterior -- a friend from high school still recalls the rough-voiced grilling he got from Melvin on the phone the first time my friend called our house -- was an equally gruff interior. Because under that, the man was a real pushover. In his later years his edges smoothed somewhat, so most people knew his softer side -- although he still had a tendency to ask you questions that made you uncertain if he was concerned or just wanted to get in your business.

To the end he looked to be in his 80's, perhaps 90. He always credited his religious faith for this (Heathen that I am, I feel moved to add that it's not clear how much credit for his being 'well preserved' should also go to his occasional shots of 100 proof Old Grand Dad as well). He managed to live on his own very well up to last fall, cooking his own meals, traveling on senior citizen bus trips to Atlantic City (where he'd spend his $10 in quarters, walk the boardwalk, eat at a buffet, and be ready to return home), complain about the Orioles and the Ravens. His wife of over 50 years, Edna, died a few years ago (at age 102), and he had a '90-something' girlfriend, whom he would talk to on the phone once or twice a day between their visits to each other's senior apartments. Many of the women in his building would cook for him: later after his move to a nursing facility where his great granddaughter works, all the women on staff there fell in love with him as well, calling him 'Pop Pop.' One of the last big events in Melvin's life was to meet his infant great great grandchild. He held her for a while, then both decided to take a little nap together.

Melvin decided to wait until after age 100 to become 'famous': he was part of an article on "Hack" cab drivers in the Baltimore City Paper; feted by the Pennsylvania Avenue Branch of the Pratt Library during their "Salute to The Avenue" for his reminiscences of that once bustling entertainment hub (I still remember him calling Billie Holiday, "That girl who used to live around the corner"!); appeared in a film on Baltimore Past and Present directed by teen members of the Wide Angle Youth Media program
; and, this past March, cut the ribbon to open Maryland General Hospital's Acute Care for the Elderly (ACE) Unit.



Melvin slipped away very quietly last Friday, July 6, 2007. The women at the FutureCare facility where he'd been living since February said they had gone in to check on him early that morning and he said he was fine. When they went back into the room, they thought he'd just drifted off to sleep. And so he had. Although 'expected' his loss was still a surprise for all of us. He seemed perfectly capable of going on and on forever

I cannot repeat Robert Hayden's famous lines from "Those Winter Sundays" here -- many of us were able to thank Melvin for all he had done and meant to us over the course of his many years. For that I am grateful. Things got a little tense around the time I came out to him in the '80s (some friends even questioned why I would do that, since people his age 'Wouldn't Understand'). Years later, as he became more comfortable with who I am, he told me that he considered my life-partner to be like 'another grandson' to him. I nearly cried.

I am also grateful to have grown up around someone from the Old School, even if I did hate it when I was younger, as well as someone who so easily navigated between the "Saturday night social and the Sunday morning service," to borrow a phrase from Albert Murray's Stomping the Blues, listening to jazz and pop on Saturday night (with a set up of scotch, braunschwager, Limburger cheese and crackers), then listening to gospel or going to church Sunday morning. This was the range of Life, and neither contradicted or canceled the other out. Quite obviously my continuing love of all forms of music comes in large part from him.

My sister sent this along after hearing of Melvin's passing:

Reggie,

When you called me this morning with the news regarding Uncle Melvin all I could do was smile. There is a feeling of peace and calmness that fills my heart when I think of his transition to the future.

He enjoyed GOOD MUSIC, GOOD FOOD, GOOD COMPANY, GOOD HUMOR, GOOD LIQUOR, AND GOOD WOMEN..........Uncle Melvin LIVED!
He truly shared his life with all of us and gave us "little pearls of wisdom" just when we needed them. Whether we thought so or not!

Uncle Melvin was the only person I know or will ever know in my lifetime with a total re-call from memory every street and intersection (including the Beltways) of the City of Baltimore. He took with him the grid to the City of Baltimore.. and I mean how it was back in the day and how it is today! I know this for a fact because I called him one day when I was downtown trying to find the Maryland Board of Nursing office that is located out near Baltimore County somewhere. I called "Unc", told him where I was, where I needed to be and he talked me through the city all the way out to where I needed to be.

I am humbled and honored to have known a man such as Uncle Melvin. My life has been enriched so much having known him. I thank God for the Father, Uncle, Griot, Confidante, and Friend. I will carry in my heart through eternity.

God has allowed me to hold court with a King and be in the presence of Royalty in my lifetime.

Marva.

A wake for Melvin Harris will be held on Thursday, July 12, 2007 from 4-8 pm at Miller's Metropolitan Chapel, 1639 N Broadway, Baltimore Maryland (410-327-2777)

Services will be held Friday, July 13, 2007, (wake at 10:30 am, funeral at 11 am) at Macedonia Baptist Church, 718 W. Lafayette Avenue, Baltimore, Maryland (410-669-5776). After the service, we'll be traveling to Annapolis to place Melvin next to Edna.

*****

Here's a 'Melvin poem' from 10 Tongues which I last read at the American Library Association Convention's Many Voices One Nation reading in Washington DC this past June:


The Reading

Words remain a mystery to him,
forced to turn from one-room school-

house to fields after Grade 8.
Words came from preachers,

God, some unseen
somewhere else.

And now this boy
approaching middle age,

reading him a poem
about the past:

the years of bouncing vans
across the South,

eating in the back of restaurants,
pissing in the woods,

sleeping in the truck or with strangers
while the white owner settled into a hotel;

the taxi driver playing ferryman
for others across the city,

called first Colored, then Negro, then
Black (he hated that),

now African-American -
(We are a People of Color he still insists);

the ones who never tipped,
the whites who called out Nigger from the window,

then turned and said, Oh,
I don't mean you;

the women gone:
mother lost to madness,

first wife lost to madness,
second wife consumed

by old age uncomfortably
like madness;

gone:
son in California,

daughters dead, grandchildren
seeds scattered on a shifting breeze.

One alone is left,
not even his blood,

her kin, dropped
on them like Isaac

on Abraham and Sarah past the age
when both could think of flowering,

one who returns
with increased infrequency,

to talk, cook,
watch a ball game,

half-listen to his stories,
the cast them later into lines upon a page -

for all his book learning
dumbstruck before the wisdom of this man

called illiterate
behind his back.

The voice reading quivers,
stops.

You write that?
A nod and shrug,

a whispered Yes. Pages fold
with a sound like cracking eggshells.

He nods and clears his throat.
Read another one, he says.

Carrying On

I am very pleased to be part of this project. It is our first attempt at a bibliography like this (so be kind!:) -- the next edition should be even better. At only $10 each, it's a real steal -- Get 'em while they're hot!

Carry the Word: A Bibliography of Black LGBTQ Books is a seminal reference work, featuring over 600 titles by and about black Same-Gender-Loving (SGL) and Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer-identified (LGBTQ) writers and culture, as well as interviews and articles about black SGL authors.

A must-have for booksellers, librarians, academics, community-based organizations, book clubs and readers interested in black LGBTQ books and authors, all proceeds from sales of Carry the Word will benefit Fire & Ink, Inc., supporter and advocate for SGL writers of African descent. Carry the Word is co-published by Vintage Entity Press and RedBone Press.

Steven Fullwood and Lisa Moore talk about Carry the Word on GayRadio.com

Purchase the book (PayPal via Vintage Entity Press)