Writing is Fighting

Goodbye, Michael

Yesterday seemed surreal.

While it was anticipated that Farrah Fawcett would pass, she died yesterday morning of anal cancer. I was out and about yesterday afternoon, interviewing my friend Laura on her experiences in the 70-80's punk scene, and I got a text from another friend that Michael Jackson was dead. I raced home to put on CNN to see what happened.

Shit. That's what I texted as a response to my friend, and that's what I thought. Then I finished working on my Blogher post, which was due.

I was never a big fan, so I'm not even going to front, or wax poetic about his life, his career, his legacy. Here's what I added to my Blogher post:

I was never a huge fan, post the Jackson 5 - My favorite song is "Ben" which always brings tears to my eyes. I actually disliked the man immensely, because as a little black girl I, like probably many others, fantasized about marrying one of the brothers. They were the perfect men, in a 9 year-old's eyes. But when the plastic surgery and the skin lightening appeared, and much later, the allegations of sexual abuse of young boys, that childhood fantasy seemed distorted. I felt betrayed, as I imagine other black girls did. As a kid when the white boys my age called me an animal and never gave me the time of day, it was the images of Jackson boys and the fantasy that there were boys that one day, might like us - were destroyed.

He was a talented man, and a very disturbed man. It's unfortunate that his life was cut short.

I will say - as I said to a friend last night - that I think WE killed him.

If he had never become the mega super-star, what would he be? If he had not been born into such a dysfunctional, abusive, greedy family, how would he be? I am watching a retrospective on his career and I'm shaking my butt to "Wanna Be Starting Something" and it takes me back to my eleven year-old self, rollerskating and dancing to the music, so proud that someone who looked like me - afro, big nose and lips - was on the top of the charts. But as I wrote last night, when he changed his features, it changed me. It hurt me, because back then I desperately needed to believe that people who looked like me could actually be something in life, that despite all the naysayers, that we could be something.

I think that WE killed him because we put him on a pedestal, forgetting that he was a real person with real issues. He, I believe was a pedophile and maybe without the fame and fortune (and hangers-on licking his boots) he would have gotten the help that he so desperately needed. His fame blinded us, making us ignore or dismiss that fact that he was severely fucked- up. The whole thing is so sad, but what stays with me the most is that now his family and hangers-on will now attempt to take every dime he had left - which wasn't much, as I hear.

I hope people learn from this unfortunate incident - that our heroes are people too. I think that today, I have forgiven him for changing his skin color and his features, as now that I'm older I know a bit more about self-loathing. He simply had the money to do what a lot of people might wished they could have done. But I will never forgive him for the lives he destroyed, the children that will always be damaged from his selfish actions. I just can't do it. But I do hope that wherever he is, he finds some peace.

At last.

Random Thoughts and Musings, Pt. 23 - Kara Walker

 

There is a cruel irony in this life I am living. I happened to find out that the artist Kara Walker is speaking tonight at the Art Gallery of Ontario as I was eating my dinner. The talk started at 7:00pm - I read the paper at 7:20pm. Hence, I will not be seeing Ms. Walker speak about her work this evening. I have seen her work previous to this, but tonight I realized that we share the exact same birth date and year, which made me even more intrigued with her art.

Today I found out I didn't get a grant that I applied for, seven months ago. It was so I could take some time off  and travel to complete interviews for my book. So while I was disappointed, I have faced so many delays and disappointments in the last two months that I just felt that I would have to just shrug off another setback and keep on movin'. But it's hard to keep on movin'. Even though only a small percentage of writers get these grants, I can't help but wonder if the nature of my book had anything to do with it.

But reading a bit more about Walker tonight made me feel a bit more optimistic. Apparently, Walker's work, which is predominately centers around imagery (black cut-outs on stark backgrounds) of the tenuous relationships between blacks and whites - predominately, such as in the above video - of Africans  and slave masters during slavery in the U.S. Her images are disturbing, sexually  and visually aggressive. Interestingly, there has been some backlash from other African-American artists who take offense to Walker's work. They have argued that she is provocative just to curry favor with white artists; that she should be only showing the 'positive' images of black life - both historical and contemporary - yet they seem to ignore the powerful messages within her work. She stands true to her art and her message, which is a feeling that I needed to get through today. For that, if not that alone, I find her interesting.

We all have to keep on keepin' on.

New Orleans, Pt. 2 - Oh yeah, the weaves thing

The tour was really great. I didn't know that there were two sides of New Orleans - The Creole side and the American side - guess what side was more opulent?

We first headed back on through the French Quarter, and the tour guide told us about the history of the railings ( pictured to the left) and how the Creoles became Creoles and the difference between Cajuns and Creoles. He also told us about the French Quarter and the history of how the city became to be. Interesting.

What I found (morbidly) really interesting was the graveyards in the city. As most of you probably already know, historically, people are buried above ground in mausoleums because of the sea level. We were able to walk through one cemetery, which was really cool. Apparently it is extremely expensive to purchase a family mausoleum and you can 'mortgage' it like you would a house. We were allowed to walk around for a few minutes and I asked the tour guide, "where do all the poor people get buried?" He looked at me and smiled. "Have you ever heard of Potter's Field?" Oh. Apparently real poor folks get buried in a field. They dig a hole, plop your ass in there and you are done. No burial stone, no nothing.

Soon after, we headed to see some of the remnants of Hurricane Katrina. I had the chance to take pictures of some of the devastation, but I decided not to. I just didn't feel right about it. The tour guide first drove us to areas that were slightly above sea level, and then gradually, took us to areas that faced up to six feet of water. Many people had been able to rebuild, but there was still a number of houses that had been abandoned and in various stages of disarray. He pointed out these yellow stains that wrapped around some of those houses and said that those were the water lines. I'm telling you, it was chilling to see that these water lines - in the worst areas - were level to the top of the entrances to the houses.

We didn't go to the Ninth Ward - where most of the devastation happened. I didn't ask and in hindsight I should have, but I am guessing that they were not allowed to have tour buses traipse through that area. We also saw the levees, which were surprisingly, not very high at all, and the tour guide said that even though the city had repaired the levee in the area where we were, they recently found out that it still wasn't repaired properly!

There was a lot of suspicious issues surrounding the levees, way before the hurricane. Apparently, there was a woman that lived in the area where we were that months before, had reported to the city that her lawn was mysteriously soggy. The city came out and checked, and told her it was nothing. They later found out ( because she lived across the street from the levee, that there was a crack and it was seeping water not only onto her lawn, but all of her neighbour's lawn. A couple of months later, the hurricane hit and the levee totally gave away.

After getting out of the area, we then drove to the American side, where many of the houses resembled plantations. We drove by Tulane University, Loyola University and "Millionaire's Row" were apparently, Bob Dillon has a house. The neighbourhood was absolutely beautiful.

Overall, while my hotel was in the Warehouse District, which was a great and convenient location, I think that the three-hour tour was the highlight of my trip. I absolutely fell in love with the architecture of the French Quarter and the Creole section, but it was nice getting out of the tourist trap and actually seeing the city in it's entirety.

Food - Off the hook! I had Gumbo, Crawfish.....and drank like a Mo'Fo. People there like to get their drink on in NOLA. I bought a ton of spices and pralines for friends and salt water taffy for my co-workers.

People - Friendly, laid back - I realized that I have visited about nine American cities by myself in the past twelve years and NOLA probably had the highest population of friendly people I had encountered. I also liked to see so many black people chilling and hanging out and liked that I felt like I just kinda blended in. I wasn't being stared at for being a single black female tourist walking around in a daze. I watched black couples who were also tourists, walking hand in hand with their kids and I envied them, hoping and wishing that one day I hoped to be like them.

Hair - I mentioned the weaves thing because my relaxed hair took a beating. The humidity made my roots stand up on end, giving me this weird halfro look, even though I had just gotten it 'done' a month ago. I'm not a big fan of hair extentions but I see why black women get it done, because dealing with relaxed and natural textured hair ( yes, I've done both) in humid weather is crazy. I was compelled to pull out my straightening iron every hour, but my hair would have fallen out. Oh, to be so vain.........

As much as I love travelling by myself, it gets a bit lonesome. I wish I had friends who were a bit more interested in travelling and checking out bands and such. I just get tired of having to swallow my fear and jumping into these experiences. Lucky for me, though, my father, who is a former travelling nut helped me out before I left by giving me some advice about going there, as my parents had been there before. Thanks Papa!

Overall, I would highly recommend going to NOLA. I really didn't spend that much money - it was a helluva lot cheaper than if I had gone to NYC at this time of year, and there is a lot to do in the city. I didn't get to do half of what I wanted to do, so I will be heading back soon - with friends, I hope.

BTW - coming back to Toronto was a drag!

Sexy but not Beautiful

I'm planning a trip to New Orleans this weekend and during the planning process, I was on one of my favourite band's websites to see if they were playing while I was there. I clicked on their message board and scanned the listings. To my surpise (and initial dismay) there was a thread entitled "Hot Black Girls"

For a second, I was like, oh no. I expected to see a litany of racist and sexist messages from asshole ignorant metalheads. But before I thought about just clicking to another page, my fingers pressed the button and zoom! I was perusing the messages.

Surprisingly at first, they weren't that bad - not overtly offensive. Sure, full of fratboy humor, but nothing that made my blood rise. Some had posted pictures of Beyonce ("She is the most beautiful woman in the world!"), Allyiah (R.I.P), Stacy Dash ( a pic from Playboy - god I want to look that good when I'm 40+), and various other actresses and models.

One thing that I noticed was that all of the pics were of light-skinned women who had European features, long hair ( natural but mostly weaves) and slim builds. Hmm.

And then someone posted this. "Black women are not beautiful"

And then someone chimed in "Sexy, but not beautiful."

For some reason, that has stayed with me all week. I don't know exactly why, but it has bothered me. Not that the opinions of random strangers has much affect on my self-esteem, but it has got me wondering. Is that was the regular, average dude thinks?

Thoughts? 

Jessie Jackson gives a new definition to "foot in mouth" syndrome

I have to admit that when I first saw the clip of Rev. Jesse Jackson exposing his ‘ghetto side,’ I laughed so hard I nearly peed myself. Damn, you better watch when those mics are on, son! Obviously not a whole lotta people thought it was funny as I thought it was.

I don’t know if it was political posturing by media pundits, but a lot of people were pissed. But why? I thought that based on the public response on Jackson’s public gaffe, there is something that no one – especially the guest commentators on CNN or Michael Eric Dyson on NBC’s Today Show bothered to mention – or maybe didn’t want to raise it publicly, that was that maybe Jackson has a right to be (privately) pissed at Obama’s speech on black fatherhood. No, not because he’s playa hatin’ or anything like that, but because his message – which I agreed with, btw – was aired in such a public manner. Yes, black folks – actually everyone needed to hear some of the truths Obama spoke, but I think that Jackson was (is?) pissed for two reasons:

1) He said what white folks wanted to hear him say. Look, Obama can’t please everyone. As the first African-American presidential candidate who has a snowballs chance in actually winning, he’s screwed. He has to appease white people who are scared of black folks and are wary of voting for a Negro, and he has to show black folks that he is still ‘down with the brown,’ despite being a representative for all Americans. He also has to win over Latinos, Asians, Clinton supporters, white so-called ‘’liberal” feminists…anyone who is wary of his policies, his so-called ‘lack of experience,’ and still (for the love of Christ, people) think he is a Muslim.

Also, the fear of having a strong, fine Sista as a potential First Lady is enough to make people doubtful of having a brother in the White House. An Obama candidacy cannot transcend race or racism, let’s get real, y’all. When Obama talks about black parenting, fatherlessness, welfare and the ails of black people in general, to some it seems like he is pandering to the demographic of people who say/think “If only those people would……..” And to some extent that was what I initially thought, that it was pandering to the same people that feel that black racism does not really exist, that if something happens it is our fault. “If only they would get a job, stop having children out of wedlock and act as we do, there would be no problems.........My ancestors weren’t slave owners.” Also, as much as some folks (like in every cultural / entho-graphic population) do perpetuate some of the social situations Obama was discussing, not all of us do. I am not sure of many things in life, but I am pretty sure that there are a whole lotta people who think that black folks are a monolithic group.

We are all the same and we all have propensity to get into some sort of trouble. And those of us that don’t – the very few of us, that is – well, we don’t know our place. We are uppity, think we are ‘better’ and need to be taken down a notch or two. Because of several generations of passed down self-hate and insecurity about our rightful presence in North America, we all feel some sort of responsibility. So when Obama airs our dirty laundry (just like Bill Cosby), it feels like he as exposed an issue that should be taken place behind closed doors.

2) Who the hell is this Negro? A bi-racial, rich, successful, not even really African-American man has the nerve to be spilling our mess…….in a black church…..in front of a television camera…..on Father’s Day? Who the fuck does he think he is, that trifling motherfucker? Obama probably got more people to listen to him than in all the years that Jackson, Rev. Al Sharpton, Bill Cosby and any other so-called ‘black leaders’ have essentially been saying the same thing. And while the furor about his racial identity has calmed down a bit, there is that question of, is he really black? Unfortunately, one of the most insidious but easiest insults used to disparage black folks by black folks is to question their authenticity.

Any time Obama screws up, says or does things that make people think twice about their blind allegiance to his candidacy, they will pull this one out. And while in some ways, people might be legitimately salty because of his social and economic stature (similar to the misgivings about Cosby) his own story – his father wasn’t around and he was raised by his mother’s parents – do add to his legitimacy to let it all hang out. People just conveniently ignore that part of his story. Why? I dunno. Maybe because of self-determination, intelligence and a whole lotta good luck, people would rather be envious than look at his personal background as something to be emulated and proud of. Who knows?

I was talking to my sorta-boss about this today and she said that what bothered her was the media’s constant coverage of Obama that insinuated a tension between him and other blacks. What admires her about Obama is that he signifies how far America has come in terms of accepting the diversity of their country, yet the media is always trying to throw a wrench into that progress. And she is right. After all, why would anyone leak the clip of Jackson if they weren’t trying to prove a point?

The last year and so have been exciting, disappointing and a real dose of reality in terms of race relations in North America. I hope Obama wins the presidency, but I also know that there is a whole lotta bullshit to come.

Random Thoughts and Musings, Pt. 20

Jeez, this is the third time this weekend I have written this post! My computer keeps on crashing, so I'm writing this in Windows Live Writer so I can save this in case it crashes again. DO NOT buy a Toshiba laptop.

Cancer Bats Piece in.......

METAL EDGE

Check it out! It is my first article for the magazine and I'm stoked! It's not going to be online so I'll PDF the print article and I'll have it up shortly.

Obama, Obama Obama

This past week on Blogher I wrote that I was relieved that the Democratic nomination was over - but the worst was probably yet to come. I had a bit of a run-in with a rabid Hillary supporter who, like many other people who refuse to admit that racist tactics from the Clinton camp actually happened and that racism is a figment of black people's imagination. I figured that I wasn't going to spend much time more on that issue, and you cannot get blood from a stone. Plus, what this person thinks is generally irrelevant anyway, just like my opinions, I guess. Hopefully I won't get into trouble from the Blogher powers-that-be for cutting off the conversation......

The premise of the post was, what do people do now? A lot of nastiness was raised, people's true colours were shown and now that Obama has been nominated, are people just supposed to forgive and forget? People have seen the slimy tactics that are used to win an election. Perhaps in my supreme naivety I sometimes forget that this is just real life, but I tell ya, if I was an American Democrat and Clinton won the nomination, I would be voting Independent.

Yesterday, I checked out That Black Girl and she has has an interesting post up about feeling more self-confident because of Obama's success (written before he officially won the nomination). I am assuming that she feels that white folks will now have greater respect for blacks, now that one of our 'own' has a great chance of becoming the next American president. What do you think?

In the first two drafts of this post I wrote that I didn't think that an Obama Candidacy is going to change much in terms of making white (or otherwise) folks who currently harbour racist thought suddenly become non-racist. I have a hard time believing that in 2008, people were using race-baiting tactics in the presidential campaign. Not like I think that racism is dead, but it is so blatantly politically correct that it just doesn't look so good. Kinda lazy, innit?

Well some people bought it. He's Muslim, right? He is a black militant whom, if elected will give the great unwashed masses of uneducated Negroes jobs in the White House. God Forbid!!!

So back to TBG. From previous posts, it is evident that she has some issues with being black and middle-class in Portland, and while I would never, ever post my self-hatred so blatantly in public, I do think that a large number of black folks might feel the same way. What white people think, in some cases is a necessity, especially if you live and work in a predominately white environment. Sure you cannot change how you are treated by the average Jane or Joe on the street, but in terms of access to housing, public places (restaurants, clubs), education and employment, if the person who can ultimately decide whether you get what you are looking for is not going to give it to you because of the colour of your skin, you are going to be (temporarily) screwed - it won't be the end of the world, but it is always going to be a pain in the ass.

(On a side note: in the first few years of living in Toronto I realized after one too many times of calling a landlord and arranging to look at a place, getting there and being told that within the span of an hour that the place was already 'rented' I asked my (white) older brother to accompany me to look at apartments).

But what do you do? Stepandfetchit all of your life? alter your physical appearance so you will look more.......I dunno, less intimidating? So regardless of what I think about TBG, her post, in a warped weird way, did raise an interesting scenario. Holla back about this. I'd be interested in what others think......

Rebbecca Walker's Latest Diss

A couple of weeks ago I happened to come across this article by Rebecca Walker in the UK's The Guardian about her relationship with her mother, novelist Alice Walker. Ouch!!!

It was a fascinating read but a friend had lent me Rebecca's book, Black, White and Jewish a couple of years ago, so I wasn't entirely surprised at the vitriol between mother and daughter. In the book, Alice is not portrayed as the most nurturing mother in the world - it is pretty obvious that her writing and her personal relationships took credence over child-rearing - and when I read it I had wondered what she must have thought when she read it.

Now obviously, this information is all one-sided. Some commenter's on the fabulous blog, Black Snob where Snob posted the link pointed out that if she hated her mother so much, why did she legally change her last name to Walker when she embarked on a writing career? Is this just a ploy to garner more attention for her writing? I am on the fence about this one, too. I love my Mommy - she isn't perfect and no ones mother really is, but I tell ya, there is no way in hell I would air dirty laundry so publicly as Rebbecca did. She might have a valid reason for doing so but I am trying really hard not to judge her for her actions.

Alice Walker is so well-renowned for her work that I wonder what this article will do for her current saint-like status in the black feminist / womanist community. Just a thought.

Vancouver - Where are all the black folks?

One of the very few perks about my FT job is that I get along with my bosses. A couple of weeks ago, they asked me if I wanted to go to Vancouver to serve as an on-site producer for the conference company I work for. Of course I agreed. A trip to Van City for free? Yeah!......Oh yeah, I have to work.

So I landed here on Monday afternoon and am staying at a very nice hotel downtown. Luckily a friend / co-worker of mine was also in town for another event so we hooked up and she took me to this incredible Japanese restaurant, were I actually ate chunks of raw fish (salmon and tuna) and didn't gag. Actually, it was amazing. But I noticed that when we entered the restaurant, the manager / owner of the restaurant would direct his questions to my friend (white) as though I was invisible. At first I thought I was being too sensitive but when he brought over our drinks, he did it again. Also, while the restaurant is in the heart of downtown Vancouver, it was 90% filled with Asian customers who looked like they were locals. As we walked in, a number of those customers turned and stared at me, and the staring continued as we sat and ate and new people walked in and sat beside us.

My friend, who had landed in the city a few days before me mentioned that she had rarely seen black folks as she travelled around the city. I agreed with her that it was sparse, having visited Vancouver a few years back when I went to visit my now ex-boyfriend. I knew back then that there was no way in hell I would ever live there, and my opinion hasn't changed.

After I finished working today, I changed my clothes and headed to the nearest mall near the Hotel, and then I walked up and down Robson and Granville streets, the main shopping districts. I did see a two brothas, whom ( probably because I was staring at them) looked at me and quickly looked away. Whatever, I guess, but I recognized the expressions on their faces - the same expressions black folks would give each other when I was a kid growing up in Kingston, ON. It was the same flash of recognition and then a dash of embarrassment, like 'I see you but I can't acknowledge you because we're both black and that's not right and then white people will look.' Part of me wanted to stop and ask them, where are the black folks here? Damn, how can you live here?

I have to admit that the reason why I am so sensitive is that I don't feel comfortable being the fly in the buttermilk. I endured 18 years of it and could not wait to move to Toronto where I could finally feel that I could blend in. And that was kind of a bust,as I found that I didn't fit in with black folks either...but at least there is more of them there than Kingston! I have no patience for the looks of surprise ( like I am getting from white people at the hotel I'm staying at) and it is really starting to annoy me.

Don't get me wrong. Vancouver is an absolutely beautiful city, minus the countless homeless and crack-addicted people that litter the streets. The weather is great, the influence of Asian culture is pretty cool and I hear that the Weed is primo. Just not for me. George Kelly and his wife recently visited Toronto and I took them along the rapidly gentrifying Queen Street West and he mentioned that I should visit a friend of his there, Cecily, who is African-American but married a Vancouverite but I have never met her in person, just online. Perhaps I should, just to ask her 'how do you do it?'

This is going to be one crazy-ass summer, Part 1.

Part 1. The Music

Awesome concerts. Protests. The possibility of riots. Fun Fun Fun!!!!

Anyone who has been reading this blog since 2005 knows that I have been a die-hard Judas Priest fan since I was a kid. A friend of mine recently let me know that they are coming to Toronto August 13th with Motorhead. Holy shit! What a lineup, since I first saw Priest in 2004 and Slayer opened for them. Fabulous! Needless to say, I am going. I have always wanted to see Motorhead, so this is going to be a show.

The funny thing is, is that my bestest homegirl has agreed to come with me and after I got over the initial excitement, the first thing that came out of my mouth was, "let's get wasted and kick some ass!" It wasn't until the next day that I realized that a) there is a good possibility, given both of our tempers and willingness to fight random people that that could actually happen; and b) that I had temporarily forgotten my age, ethnicity and gender and that I was no longer a naive kid who could stir shit up and conveniently forget about consequences....like prison? Criminal record?

The week before that concert, the Rockstar Energy Mayhem Energy Tour featuring Mastodon, Slipknot, disturbed and from what I originally gathered, Sevendust, are coming to town. I thought that I would definitely check out the Toronto show, but they moved the location to a field, which turned off all my potential concert-going friends. One potential, who is my age, said that she was too old to be using a Port-o-Let in public, especially after a long day drinking beer in the hot summer sun. Another friend bowed out because Kathy Griffin is doing a show in the T-dot that night. Jesus! Man up, people!

Seriously, though. Do I really want to spend a day hanging around kids who are half my age and risk getting even more sun damage to my already ravaged skin? I think not. That's why if I go, it is going to have to be writing / work related. Getting older really sucks sometimes! So I might bow out of the latter concert, as I am told that Mastodon will probably make another trip to town sometime later this year, god willing.

Stay tuned for Part 2 - Political and racial strife - What is going to happen this summer?

I love My People....Really

There has been a whole lotta excellent blog posts up recently. Well if you look hard enough there are always great posts. For me, what is attractive is when someone dares to discuss something that you had thought about posting about but hesitated for fear of a nasty rebuttal. But since my hits have dropped off, I guess it doesn't really matter what I post here! So here it goes:

I am really feeling this new-ish blogger, The Black Snob who is off the hook. An excellent writer, funny as hell (you also need to check out her satirical site The Secret Council of American Negroes) she recently posted a commentary on, well, bougie black folks, most notably referring to the new website The Root.com.

I checked out The Root a few weeks back and actually felt a bit bad for thinking that not only was it kinda bougie, but that while it could have served as a valuable resource (as a potential freelancing opportunity), it was just not my skeez. I instantly knew that there was no way that not only would I have nothing to offer them, but I just did not relate or have interest in anything that they would want a prospective writer to cover. Plus, I looked at their roster of talent, which was pretty uninspiring - they have selected a roster of previously well-known AA writers with no great emphasis on bringing fresh faces to the table - playing it safe with no surprises. No offence, Jimi. So anyway, I was pretty pleased that Snob covered it.

I've been thinking about writing this post for a long time, especially since recently I have said to a couple of friends that as a writer, I no longer want any Black Canadian clients. Reading Snob's blog, checking out some recent posts from the Field Negro has compelled me to let it all hang out - a bit. Things are heating up in the US with the Democratic Presidential election and race and racism has reared its ugly head - always was there, just now everyone has a bird's eye view. On the other hand the NAACP has decided - along with Al Sharpton - to defend the accused Black rapists / torturers from the Dunbar Village case. We can love our people but we cannot be blind to the fact that everyone is human and that sometimes, we have to look after ourselves before anyone else, which means we sometime have to call each other out.

Sounds pretty bad, eh? Kinda prejudiced? Let me explain, as I think that it needs a bit of explanation.

A few months back, I did some work for a person who was referred to me by a longtime client. To make a long story short, during the duration of doing this job I realized that she was known as a con artist and the cheque that was given to me for the final portion of the job,bounced. She had her 'financial advisor' write me a cheque to an account that was later revealed to be sans funds (that they knew about) when they gave me the cheque. The bank froze my account two days before Christmas. So during the Christmas holidays and into February I was trying to get paid. Because I hounded both my client and the 'financial advisor' they became upset with me for inquiring about payment because after numerous text messages and phone calls, promising that they were on the way to the bank to deposit money into my account, even though the money was never deposited. What bothers me are two things:

1) They felt that because I didn't trust their transparent lies that they were on the way to the bank to  that they did not have to pay me - this was after over two months of not reimbursing me for the  bounced cheque;

2) The 'financial advisor' said to me when I was sceptical (and was proven right) that he was going to pay what was owing to me in my account in the next couple of days,that as 'black people we need to work together, to have each other's back.' Are you fucking kidding me? Now the motherfucker won't return my calls.

The caveat? I am now charging interest and will have to take them to small claims court. And I will have to pay for the court case out of my pocket and will probably never see the money. Oh, and I had the client sign a written agreement that she would pay be within 14 days of the completed project. I guess she lost the agreement. I haven't.

Needless to say, I was so angry that I had to let it go, otherwise I would have killed her. Also, this is part of the game of freelancing - you do have to trust that the people you are working with that they are going to pay you. Right now, I am dealing with another client who is giving me a song and dance and most likely, I will have problems recouping my money from her. She also used the same song and dance on me about how we need to look out for each other.

It is not these two instances that have turned me off working with Canadian Black folks - and I say Canadian because it seems to be a common trait and I have American ( Black and white) clients who I have not had these issues with. Over the seven years I have been doing various writing gigs for people in my city, I keep having the same problems with people that think you should work for them for free, people who delay paying you until you harass them to death and what I find incredibly insulting, is that despite my experience, they feel that they are doing you a favour and that all us Negroes need to scratch each other's back. But you aren't scratching my back. You are fucking me in the ass. (Excuse my language).

Quite frankly, I had it with being ripped off, unprofessional-ism among my own people and people who want to run their own business but unwilling to put the effort into doing it right. It sounds incredibly bad, snobby and prejudiced, but in my experience it is the truth. I honestly think that some Black Canadians are so in love with the facade of Americanized Hip-Hop success, that they think that it takes little effort to become successful and / or to make a load of money. We do not know enough about how successful Black folks had to work to make their coin, and some of the people I have dealt with over the years are unwilling to deal with others in a professional manner. And you know why I am writing this? Because it is hurtful.

Hurtful because I am a supporter of black and minority-owned businesses, I spend hours every week writing about issues that effect our communities. I put in the time in educating myself in ways that I needed to because I did not grow up in a black family or environment. I am not feeling sorry for my elf, but just realizing that it is time for me to grow the fuck up a bit and stop romanticizing that perhaps we will all be miraculously 'unified' because of our shared ethnicity.

Money only comes in one colour, and that is green, baby.

My New Year's Resolutions and a Few Other Things

First, has anyone heard of Crust Punk?

Up until Saturday, I had never heard of it and kinda made an ass out of myself. Well, not really, but here's the story.......

So Saturday, I decided to take a bit of a break and went for a walk to Bloor & Bathurst to go to one of my favourite record stores. I was looking for a couple of music DVD's, such as Afropunk and the Mastodon DVD (I told you that they are my current obsession), and a friend told me that he had peeped a couple of Josh Homme's Desert Sessions albums. After deciding that the DVD's were perhaps not the best thing to buy as I was low on funds as someone owes me money I picked up just one CD and started walking home.

My neighbourhood is interesting. Primarily an older neighbourhood, there are no large chain stores or franchises, primarily stores owned by people from the various ethnic communities that reside there. Somalian, Ethiopian, Portuguese, Italian and Asian folks own alot of restaurants, convenience stores, etc. So when I walked past a large storefront a couple of blocks from my street that had about a hundred black concert t-shirts displayed in the front window, I slowed my roll and went in. It reminded me of the head shops that used to litter Yonge St. back in the day.

It was a record store, specializing in punk and metal music, both new and used. I walked around, checking out whether I could find the stuff I was looking at in the store I had just left for a cheaper price. I was looking at one of the rows of Cd's and there was a sign that said, "Speed Punk, Metal and Crust." I didn't know what Crust was so I asked the guy behind the counter, who I assume was the owner. The guys was about 50, looked like an ageing punker who was probably in a band back in the day.

He looks at me up and down and says (in a snotty voice) "If you don't know what Crust is, there's probably a reason for it."

Me: "Excuse me?"

He then looks at me as though I was slow and then explained what it was. Here's the definition I got from Wikipedia:

Crust punk is a derivative form of hardcore punk and anarcho punk mixed with extreme metal riffage. The speed of Crust punk is very often quite high but rarely to the point of thrashcore or grindcore. Vocals are often in the dual form (often male and female) very shrill and/or throaty and guttural belted out at high speed. The duelling male and female vocals are drawn from their use in anarcho punk. The guitar work is typically very gritty, unpolished and bass heavy and very metallic. However guitar solos are seldom used and some groups do not use large amounts of metal in their sound, such as Aus-Rotten. Drumming is typically Scandinavian-influenced drumming done at high speed with blast beats sometimes being used. The lyrical content of crust punk tends to be very bleak and nihilistic and extremely political. Crust punk songs are often about but are not limited to: anti materialism, gay rights, sexism, popular culture, apocalypse, nuclear war, misanthropy, emotions, cycling, religion, the environment, censorship, anarchism, historical events, parody, militarism, peace, war, animal rights, health care, lies, corporate crime, crimes against the innocent, police, an oppressive state, international trade, the media, education, abortion politics, hatred of specific people or leaders etc. Crust punk is one of punk's least recognizable forms due to metallic elements and extreme vocal style and is at times mistaken as a form of metal. A sub-note is that a number of bands exist are not bound by the above definition often having a slow sludgy sound such as Dystopia.

Well, excuse me! I didn't bother trying to explain that I was a music journalist (okay, right now a half-assed one) and that was why I was interested. Not willing to throw in the towel just yet, I asked him about new metal releases. He gestured towards the back of the store, turned around and went back to what he was doing. I grabbed a free copy of Vice Magazine ( which was a find, even though it is a bit hipster-ish for me) and left, feeling like a bit of a fool. An old fool, mentally beating myself up for not being in touch with this genre. And feeling even more foolish to find out that it emerged about twenty years ago!

I don't know if this had anything to do with the chilly reception I got from the store owner, but I know that I do not look like someone who is interested in those genres of music. Frankly, I am more into Death / Thrash / Speed / Hardcore metal than I am in punk, which I only have a general knowledge of. Honestly, situations like that don't happen very often, but it brings back that nagging feeling of insecurity that editors of music magazines, people in the biz whom I need to take me seriously will doubt my knowledge and enthusiasm about the genre. I've already encountered enough bullshit pitching stories and meeting editors to know that this is a problem. First, there are only a few female journos interested in the genre, and how many of them are black? closer to 40 than 30?

Fuck it. This is what I want to do and I am not going to let anyone get in my way. But honestly? The only person that has been standing in my way is me.

I know this story is a bit off topic for New Year's resolutions, but it does tie in. Here it is: I have been a die hard music fan since I was a kid, starting when I was seven and seeing that cheesy KISS movie (I think it was KISS meets the Phantom of the Opera or something like that) on TV. The only friends I have had who share my musical tastes have been white males - I have never, except for my best friend who was in the grunge scene with me in the '90's, ever had a female friend who was interested in the same genres of music. As an adult, it has not only been a passion of mine, but writing about music ( as well as writing about race and social justice issues and alternative culture) is how I make a portion of my income - and more importantly, what I want to focus my writing on.

So the first resolution: Moving the direction of this blog into more of a music site, posting more videos and hopefully podcasts - just playing stuff that I like and new releases and stuff that I am hoping others will enjoy - trying to get the word out that Negroes can rock out too!

Second resolution: The content of this blog will also include info about the project I am working on - I imagine that more details about this will be available in a few months, hopefully.

Third resolution: I will stop letting my day job overwhelm me with stress and anguish and deter me from posting more often.

Fourth (and most important) resolution: I will get the hell out of Toronto. If not permanently, for a good chunk of 2008. Not only do I feel that I have to in order to advance my career, I need it to get me back. From reading some of the posts from this summer and fall, I realized how unhappy I have been. I've alienated a lot of really good friends because of it over the past couple of years and I am tired of it. I'm stuck, behind this computer, in my apartment and I want to travel and enjoy what life I have left.

So I hope you will come (or stay) on this ride with me. I wish you all the best in 2008.