Wednesday, December 23, 2009

kayeta

i had dinner at a creole, new orleans style food joint yesterday at the reading terminal market. the food was delicious..and our sweet chef was incredible as well.
his name is kayeta.
he grew up in the ghettos of north philly. there used to be ghettos that were stretch over 10-20 blocks on dauphin-cumberland. the city destoryed everyother block of ghetto and put minisuburb subsidized houses...pushing people, including kayeta, out, making the people weak, less mobilized, and while making the area a more desireable place to live...then kayeta moved where temple campus is now. and experienced being shoved out for the school he will never be able to attend. and then he met a woman (his fathers girlfriends sister) in norristown, married her. and moved to that area. he misses livin in the bulk of the city, so he chooses to work here...making it a daily routine to stop and see his family..where he came from.

kayeta says he is lucky and blessed to live through all these changes, at age 33..many people only get to 25.

a beautiful man. with a rich history.

Monday, December 21, 2009

..compassion

(Compassion is) not a bending toward the underprivilidged from a privilidged position; it is not a reaching out from on high to those who are less fortunate below; it is not a gesture of sympathy or pity for those who fail to make it in the upward pull. On the contrary, compassion means going directly to those peopl...e and places where suffering is most acute and building a home there."-Henri Nouwen

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

parallel journeys worlds apart

this is a poem a friend and peace activist Mimi Copp wrote when she traveled to the U.S. Mexico border in Arizona with Christian Peacemaker Teams. I went to see first-hand the migration of people from Central and South America into the U.S., the militarization of the border by the U.S. and the humanitarian crisis of 100s of people dying each year in the deserts, (In 2009, 206 have died.) i thought this was beautiful and wanted to share -blew

~Parallel Journeys Worlds Apart

I am 29 years old.

I am 15 years old.

I am a U.S. citizen.

I am a Mexican citizen.

I came to Douglas, Arizona by plane.

I came to Douglas, Arizona by foot.

I came to learn why people are dying in the deserts of Arizona.

I passed through on my way to find a job.

I packed sunscreen, a hat, a camera, the Bible, a journal, a sleeping bad, band-aids, a rain jacket.

I packed some food, clothes and water.

I chose to come and spend a week of vacation.

I was chosen by my family as the one to make the trek in order to get work.

I was afraid they’d arrest me if I helped an “illegal” migrant.

I was afraid I’d get lost in the desert and die.

I couldn’t be afraid; people are dying.

I couldn’t be afraid; my family is hungry.

My heart is breaking.

My heart is breaking.

I “legally” crossed the border at the Port of Entry in a few minutes.

I “illegally” crossed the border through a barbed wire fence in the middle of the desert.

They look at me and think I’m “legal.” No need to look at my passport.

They look at me and think I’m “illegal.” No need to look at my passport.

I move about freely.

I must hide.

I sprained by ankle during a walk through the desert and couldn’t walk. I rode home in the car.

I must watch every step. If I get injured I might not get out of the desert.

I’m ready to go home and I will.

I’m ready to go home but can’t.

I’m a child of God.

I’m a child of God.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

truth about thanksgiving...

copied n pasted from Tabu's blog thought id share

The Truth About Thanksgiving and the Brainwashing of the American Hist ory books.

November 22, 2009
untitled29
George Orwell, the author of “1984”, once wrote: “Who controls the past controls the future; who controls the present controls the past.”
Such applies to the history of “Thanksgiving.” Those who are indigenous to this land we call “The United States of America” have been long misrepresented and pushed out of American history textbooks in favor of glorifying those who now rule this nation and represent the dominant culture. What kind of democracy are we when education institutions and teachers refuse to mention the fact that 10 to 30 million Natives were killed at the hands of European invasion and colonialism? What is the point of having a “free market of ideas” when selective and biased history is being taught to our children?
There is no other way to put it, but erasing the memory of an entire race of people through distorted history is a systematic way of deceiving and lying to our children. Not only are we presented with biased history, but we are also subjected to an ever-growing culture of capitalism, in which commercialization of an ambiguous holiday merely pulls us away from facts and meaning. Turkeys are associated with “Thanksgiving” in the same way Santa Clause and the Easter bunny have become synonymous with Christmas and Easter, respectively. Through the guise of innocence, capitalism is constantly telling us to consume because consumption equals “happiness.” Tomorrow is not “Black Friday” for nothing.
And as children dress up as Pilgrims and Natives to reenact the romanticized version of history, they are not only perpetuating stereotypes, but more importantly, they’re being embedded with lies. What do they really know about the Pilgrims and the Natives? Consider a high school history textbook called “The American Tradition” which describes the scene quite succinctly:
After some exploring, the Pilgrims chose the land around Plymouth Harbor for their settlement. Unfortunately, they had arrived in December and were not prepared for the New England winter. However, they were aided by friendly Indians, who gave them food and showed them how to grow corn. When warm weather came, the colonists planted, fished, hunted, and prepared themselves for the next winter. After harvesting their first crop, they and their Indian friends celebrated the first Thanksgiving.
This patronizing version of history excludes many embarrassing facts of European history. As stated by James W. Loewen, author of “Lies My Teacher Told Me,” many college students are unaware of the horrific plague that devastated and significantly reduced the population of Natives after Columbus’ arrival in the “new world.” Most diseases came from animals that were domesticated by Europeans. Cowpox from cows led to smallpox, which was later “spread through gifts of blankets by infected Europeans.” Of the twelve high school textbooks Professor Loewen studied and analyzed, only three offer some explanation that the plague was a factor of European colonization. The nine remaining textbooks mention almost nothing, and two of them omit the subject altogether. He writes: “Each of the other seven furnishes only a fragment of a paragraph that does not even make it into the index, let alone into students’ minds.”
Why is it important to mention the plague? It reinforced European ethnocentricism which hardly produced a “friendly” relationship between the Natives and Europeans. To most of the Pilgrims and Europeans, the Natives were heathens, savages, treacherous, and Satanic. Upon seeing thousands of dead Natives, the Governor of Massachusetts Bay Colony, John Winthrop, called the plague “miraculous.” In 1634, he wrote to a friend in England:
But for the natives in these parts, God hath so pursued them, as for 300 miles space the greatest part of them are swept away by the small pox which still continues among them. So as God hath thereby cleared our title to this place, those who remain in these parts, being in all not fifty, have put themselves under our protect…
The ugly truth is that many Pilgrims were thankful and grateful that the Native population was decreasing. Even worse, there was the Pequot Massacre in 1637, which started after the colonists found a murdered white man in his boat. Ninety armed settlers burned a Native village, along with their crops, and then demanded the Natives to turn in the murderers. When the Natives refused, a massacre followed.
Captain John Mason and his colonist army surrounded a fortified Pequot village and reportedly shouted: “We must burn them! Such a dreadful terror let the Almighty fall upon their spirits that they would flee from us and run into the very flames. Thus did the Lord Judge the heathen, filling the place with dead bodies.” The surviving Pequot were hunted and slain.
The Governor of Plymouth, William Bradford, further elaborates:
Those that escaped the fire were slain with the sword; some hewed to pieces, others run through with their rapiers, so that they were quickly dispatched and very few escaped. It was conceived they thus destroyed about 400 at this time. It was a fearful sight to see them thus frying in the fire…horrible was the stink and scent thereof, but the victory seemed a sweet sacrifice, and they gave the prayers thereof to God, who had wrought so wonderfully for them.
Perhaps most disturbingly, it is strongly argued by many historians that the Pequot Massacre led to the “Thanksgiving” festivities. The day after the massacre, the aforementioned Governor Massachusetts Bay Colony declared: “A day of Thanksgiving, thanking God that they had eliminated over 700 men, women and children.” It was signed into law that, “This day forth shall be a day of celebration and thanksgiving for subduing the Pequots.”
Now, one may ask: What about Squanto, the Wampanoag man who learned to speak English and helped the hungry, ill, and poor Pilgrims? As cited by Professor Loewen, an American high school textbook called “Land of Promise” reads:
Squanto had learned their language, the author explained, from English fishermen who ventured into the New England waters each summer. Squanto taught the Pilgrims how to plant corn, squash, and pumpkins. Would the small band of settlers have survived without Squanto’s help? We cannot say. But by the fall of 1621, colonists and Indians could sit down to several days of feast and thanksgiving to God (later celebrated as the first Thanksgiving).
Note that this text states the first Thanksgiving was on 1621. Indeed, there was a feast on that year, but it was not called a “Thanksgiving feast” nor was it repeated until years later after the Pequot Massacre in 1637. In regards to Squanto, the correct question to ask is: How did Squanto learn English? History textbooks neglect to mention that the Europeans did not perceive Squanto as an equal, but rather as “an instrument of their God” to help the “chosen people.” It is also omitted that, as a boy, Squanto was stolen by a British captain in 1605 and taken to England. He worked for a Plymouth Merchant who eventually helped him arrange passage back to Massachusetts, but less than a year later, he was seized by a British slave raider. Along with two dozen fellow Natives, Squanto was sold into slavery in Spain. He would manage to escape slavery, journey back to England, and then talk a ship captain into taking him along on his next trip to Cape Cod in 1619.
As Squanto walked back into his home village, he was horrified to find that he was the only surviving member of his village. The rest were either killed in battle or died of illness and disease. Excluding Squanto’s enslavement is to paint an incredibly distorted version of history that suggests Natives like Squanto learned English for no other reason but to help the colonists. It is to glorify the Europeans and erase the struggles and experiences of the Native people.
When history is transformed into myths, tales, and bedtime stories, we ignore historical research that enables us to learn valuable and meaningful lessons about our present, as well as about our future. History is meant to be an accurate and honest account of civilizations, cultures, and events; not a body of ethnocentric and selective alterations.
As Professor Loewen states:
Thanksgiving is full of embarrassing facts. The Pilgrims did not introduce the Native Americans to the tradition; Eastern Indians had observed autumnal harvest celebrations for centuries. Our modern celebrations date back only to 1863; not until the 1890s did the Pilgrims get included in the tradition; no one even called them ‘Pilgrims’ until the 1870s.
I did not write this article with intentions to offend or say we shouldn’t celebrate “Thanksgiving.” None of us are responsible for the atrocious deaths of Natives and Europeans. None of us caused the plague or the massacres. But as human beings, I do feel that it’s important for us to approach history with honesty and sensitivity. Perhaps some of you don’t believe this history is relevant to you, but I would strongly argue that a history that is not inclusive is a dangerously racist and prejudice one. Yes, we should spend time with our families and Loved ones, and yes, we should be grateful and thankful for all that we have, but not at the expense of ignoring an entire race of people, their culture, and their history. The fact that history textbooks and schools try to glorify the Pilgrims while omitting significant facts about the Natives represents that there is a lot to improve in the United States. Let us not become blinded by super-patriotism or blowout sales of “Black Friday.” Let us give some thought to the Native people, learn from their struggles, and embolden ourselves to stand up against racism and genocide in all forms.
They deserve your attention.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

details

we are given minds
of eternity. but we will
never understand.
...Time.
the sun and the moon's
secret they do not dare
to share. only to look
upon with stares of the
waiting.
excited for our next move.
They call this the gift of God
living in the
mystery
of life.
at least before the
dust finds your sleep,
feel the wind
watch the grass grow
and walk.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Griot chant genealogy

so this is the griot chant that i wrote for the Gathering Around the Unhewn Stone conference. i wanted to have it fully memorized..but maybe for another day. i found the research of our ancestors really encouraging. i hope you find it encouraging as well.


Creator of heaven, earth, sea, and all that is in them.

Our hope is in You

You uphold the cause of the oppressed

Give food to those who hunger

The Lord sets prisoners free

opens sight to the blind

lifts up those who bow down

His love reaches the righteous

Comforts the outcast, the isolated.

Sustains the fatherless, the widow

Frustrates the ways of the wicked.

He does not forget

The Lord God is.

Our Father

O Zion for all generations.

Through our past. Now. Tomorrow. Leading us. His children.

Let us remember our ancestors. The cloud of witnesses.

The faithful. The oppressed. Mirrored in all cultures.

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again

We ask the same Spirit to be among us now

Bleeding Gods power through the hands of her followers.

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again

Adamah --- the earth man

Eve --- mother life

Abel

Enoch --- the one who walked with God

Noah --- alone is his faith, made room for the rain

Abraham

Isaach

Jacob

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again

“We are strangers here,” they say, “Longing for another way.”

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again

Esau

Joseph --- “fruitful tree whose branches climb over the wall”

Moses

Musicians of Jericho --- may their faith through song resonate in our pulse

Rahab

Daniel

Samson --- whose strength was given by God

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again

“We are strangers here,” they say, “Longing for another way.”

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again

Esther --- boldly refused the genocide of her people

Shadrach

Meshach

Obendego

David --- chosen one to speak his name as warrior, poet, musician, & leader

John the Baptist --- calling for renewal and God’s fist

Mary

Joseph

Magdalene

The twelve who left everything and followed

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again

“We are strangers here,” they say, “Longing for another way.”

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again


St Francis & Saint Claire --- through poverty, the kingdom is among us

Sojourner Truth --- “The Spirit calls me, and I must go.”

Harriet Tubman --- Moses among the slaves searching for freedom

Leo Tolstoy --- anarchist, pacifist declaring the kingdom is within you

The kingdom is within you

Geronimo

Crazy Horse

Black Elk

Resisting oppression, preserving traditions as natives of this land

Moved like hinds feet of a deer.

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again

“We are strangers here,” they say, “Longing for another way.”

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again


Mohatma Ghandi --- resisting tyranny through mass civil disobedience

Miguel Pro --- executed, humiliated, for his constants steps of Faith

Dorothy Day

Dietrich Bonhoeffer --- “we must bandage the victims under the wheel

But we also jam the spoke in the wheel itself”

Mother Theresa

Rosa Parks --- mother of the civil rights movement

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again

“We are strangers here,” they say, “Longing for another way.”

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again

Oscar Romero --- martyr for his voice of the poor in El Salvador

Faney Lou Hamer --- she would not be silent in the presence of injustice

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Leonard Petier --- still calling for peace behind the whip of iron

Steve Biko --- martyr of the South African aparthid… black is beautiful

And the six leaders of faith recently slaughtered in Colombia!

Their voice is that of Abel--- still screaming the truth from the ground.

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again

“We are strangers here,” they say, “Longing for another way.”

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again

We listen to that of Jesus

The one who walked this land, teaching the ways of peace and justice from the Father.

His Cry broke the walls of separation

Ready to move in use physically and spiritually.

He died that we may live.

Be not of this world

These systems of oppression

These structures we are taught to follow that make hazy or abilities to be open,

Affected, and ready to move with the breeze.

Lord, let us be your tool.

Carving your name in the hearts of those who hear

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again

Hebrews writes that these followers were that of the righteous

Shut the mouths of lions.

Quenched the violence of fire.

Escaped the threat of the sword.

Out of weakness made strong.

The dead raised to walk.

Though they were chained. Tortured. Persecuted.

Wanderers of deserts, mountains, and caves.

The words of the lord remained on their faithful tongue.

“The world was not worthy of them:

Lord help us not be afraid. Give us strength

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again

Here we are.

Use us.
Be with us.

We are strangers here. Longing for another way.

Spirit of our Ancestors come move us again

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Words of Douglass

"If there is no struggle, there is no progress. Those who profess to favor freedom, and yet depreciate agitation, are men who want crops without plowing up the ground. They want rain without thunder and lightning. They want the ocean without the awful roar of its many waters. This struggle may be a moral one; or it may be a physical one; or it may be both moral and physical; but it must be a struggle. Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and it never will. Find out just what a people will submit to, and you have found out the exact amount of injustice and wrong which will be imposed upon them; and these will continue till they are resisted with either words or blows, or with both. The limits of tyrants are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppress. Men may not get all they pay for in this world; but they must pay for all they get. If we ever get free from all the oppressions and wrongs heaped upon us, we must pay for their removal. We must do this by labor, by suffering, by sacrifice, and, if needs be, by our lives, and the lives of others."--Frederick Douglass

Monday, November 2, 2009

life project. story of a mother

The life project was a sweet night. many organizations & individuals sharin' what they are doing in the area. it was a lot of work...but i hoped more people could attend and get connected.

here is a story from a lady who sees her mission to share her story with as many folk that passes her way. she was beautiful. vulnerable. and wise.

10-23-09

I was in college. i got pregnant.
my boyfriend and i agreed to have an abortion.
i went to the clinic.
"Ow!" i said. " Shut up! look what you made me do," said the doctor.
i left the room. my body felt like little needles exploding through my insides.
over and over.
"you just had an abortion. what else were you expecting," said the nurse.
something was wrong. but no one was listening.
the nurse handed me pain pills. and guided me to the recovery room.
to my left was a new mother.
to my right was a lady who just had her 5th abortion.
and i was still throbbing in pain.
a week went by, and i still knew something was wrong.
i went to the emergency room. they kept asking so many questions. so many
how many times do i have to say i killed my child.

i found out that the doctor, during the abortion, punctured my uterus
i was 22 and had to have a hysterectomy.

and oh how i would give everything to hold my own child....but knowing i will never be able to.

and so. i continue to tell my story 32 years later.

















Wednesday, October 14, 2009

gathering around the unhewn stone


I am singing and performing a griot chant of our ancestors of faith! so good. this weekend...

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

psalter drum circle :)



new one that was posted.. sound is amazing.

feeling the rhythms..falln in love

worship will kill the beast.. tear down these walls with music rather than weapons. open. here we are.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

...we who believe in freedom



i am going to be singing this for psalters:) comin up. im really excited. definatly drawn in the encouragment.

we must act now.

its interesting. around here in philadelphia..politics are affecting the neighborhoods extremely lately. because the council does not want to pass the crazy budget that the mayor made up, he has planned to close all public free libraries, recreation centers, 1000 street lights, and picking up trash once everyother week. the budget that is wanting to pass will stress communities out even more as well as make it hard for small businesses even to survive.

here's a bit from the library:

Friday, August 21, 2009

Psalm 146

1Praise the LORD!
Praise the LORD, O my soul!
2I will praise the LORD while I live;
I will sing praises to my God while I have my being.
3Do not trust in princes,
In mortal man, in whom there is no salvation.
4His spirit departs, he returns to the earth;
In that very day his thoughts perish.
5How blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob,
Whose hope is in the LORD his God,
6Who made heaven and earth,
The sea and all that is in them;
Who keeps faith forever;
7Who executes justice for the oppressed;
Who gives food to the hungry
The LORD sets the prisoners free.
8The LORD opens the eyes of the blind;
The LORD raises up those who are bowed down;
The LORD loves the righteous;
9The LORD protects the strangers;
He supports the fatherless and the widow,
But He thwarts the way of the wicked.
10The LORD will reign forever,
Your God, O Zion, to all generations.
Praise the LORD!

we read this today for 11:45 prayer. i walked away still thinkn about it. here i am. trying to follow this constant Lord of the land. so encouraging. i hope this encourages you.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Bring Your Words Aug 09'

Last night was super sweet at the second annual Bring Your Words at Circle of Hope Frankford Norris.  there was at most 60 people there, willing to open their hearts, interests, stories, and laughs. its interesting if you just provide an intentional space. people will come:) I am going to be hosting this event, starting September, ever first Saturday of the month at Circle of Hope FN. (2009 Frankford Ave). hoping to get gravity in the neighborhood, connections and an honest safe place with snacks and delicious lattes. :). My ultimate goal for this event is to be spread out randomly in other neighborhoods, sharing each Philadelphia neighborhood's voice. ill get there one day. 






Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Maoribayassa




what we are workin on in class...i love it

Saturday, August 1, 2009

echos

of slapping fake guitars and drums. tones of song are making my furrow wrinkle.

something like this brings people together..so i guess i cant complain too much

guitar hero

Bare open

You tell me not to worry
matthew.
but my senses are straining & collapsing.

you tell me not to worry

i wake up not knowing if i can pay my bills, loans, rent, food, all these things.
i feel trapped unable to move
Paralyzed. right, paralyzed.

i think the homeless have it right,
Rejection of a system of oppression.

You tell me not to worry.

Where do i come from?
i come from a broken family
father absent
mother sleeping in restful bed of dirt
virginia with the love of my brothers
..miles away
school drop out.
you told me

I am broken and you tell me not to worry
as the birds of the air
and the flowers of the field..

if thats your promise
i hope you see my anger.
hear my cry

expect my wail to cause a chill up your spine.
because i am in pain.
my brothers and sisters are in pain.

you are my only hope to look past this
entanglement, this sadness, this darkness.

help me not to worry

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Rocco Berry

Siah and i met this sweet soul outside of 7-11. i wanted to share his story...

My name is Rocco Berry.
I always asked my mother why i have such a crazy name. why not Jeffery? Sam?
She told me to shut up. 
I've lived in Philadelphia for a long time.
North Philly, Kensington, Washington Square Park.
Just got back some years ago from Ohio--in the hospital. 
Look at my wrists.
different color bracelets,
needle pocks there, there, there...

My arms are weak.
My body is weak.

My story?
why are you listenin to my lips, to my past?
I dont mean nothing.
hmph...cops makn me move there, go there.. 
Get out of the way! they say.
I dont mean nothing. 

Its cold.
Someone stole my jacket when i was sleeping on the bench of Walnut & 8th
Im not worried,
but its getn cold.

Thank you for this treat.
got no teeth from all that sugar i ate.
but thank you.

Im gonna be honest,
I'm tired.
Tired of all this.
i have lived.
all i know is to keep my eyes toward God.
I am tired...
of all this.
I have lived.
Can you send some prayers my way?
pray for me. 
october 25 2008

I didnt want to let go of his hand. his beautiful hand. bloodshot honest eyes. i had a lot to learn from him. .....Rocco Berry. a beautiful brother.  

Leotah's Place...a project i have started

I host events and am present at events through Leotah's Place, a Traveling Coffeehouse

8/8/2009 -- Bring Your Words! a night of spokenword, poetry, song, and hearts. the mic is open for performance. bring your friends, family, and neighbors! 7pm, 2007 Frankford Ave!

BYW aug 09