Raising Free Children, Resisting "Ally" Cookies

Longish story and reflection mostly directed towards my white friends here. Please no cookies in the comments.

Story: The Boy is at Aquarium camp this week so we took the train home together during rush hour (OMG it was amazing I appreciate his presence so much). This dude is currently obsessed with the early history of the US and enjoys sharing facts back and forth, I had none so I did my Googles and played along. The fact I find to share had the word slave in the sentence twice. I read it to him and interrupted myself, "Honey, I misspoke. I'd like you to try something with me. Let's not say slaves anymore, let's say enslaved people. When we say slave it makes it their whole identity, not people not human, but slaves. When we say enslaved people it honors that they are human, and recognizes that something was done to them." 

Now like, I know that's a lot y'all but The Boy is really smart. He gives me his thinking face (pushing his loose tooth out sideways between his lips which makes me gag) for 10 seconds. Then he says "Actually that makes a lot of sense. I don't understand why people don't say it that way.... ...... wait they probably said it that way on purpose cos like you can't call someone a person and be ok slaving them, right? Like right?"

I'm like, right. Convo and commute continue. We get off the train and on the escalator behind us a man who is Black and maybe 10 years older than me taps me on the shoulder. He overheard our conversation and with a warm smile thanked me for having real conversations with my child about this country's racist history.

Reflection: I feel like urban whites my age and sheltered suburban whites of any age are surprised at the racist times we are living in. White people need to be personally affected to be aware. Inexcusable ignorance and a disgusting reality. I see memes with quotes like "if you wondered what you would do in Civil Rights, whatever you're doing now is your answer." The shit is daunting and overwhelming, but no action is action. And sometimes action doesn't feel like much, but telling the truth within our families IS action. You don't need to aggressively "check" people left and right to make a difference, you could mention to your coworker that they often describe Black youth as "well spoken" but have never described a white youth that way. Not everything has to be a GOTCHA to be meaningful.

We also need to do this when no people of color are watching. With our white friends, in our white workplaces, and in our white families. Performance is worthless so if you only speak up when it's convenient or when people of color can witness it, you have more work to do. It's also ok to feel good about making someone else feel good without trying to. My good white person cookie tasted sweet today and I had to check myself when I ate it on instinct.

#nocookies #cantbestillonamovingtrain #teachthebabies

From the Vault: What do you believe in?

October 7, 2009

I believe in my child
in his innocence
his snot and sweat and kisses
I believe in smiles upon waking
which make me believe change is real
I believe in the brown walls of my girl-selfs home
and though it is broken I am not
I believe in courage. 
I hold it in my vulnerability.
I water it with faith and trust and openness

I have seen an abused woman turn abuser 
slinging insults and fists like lightning bolts
I have seen my father cry
leaving me behind
knowing it was the only way for us both to survive
I have seen the waters of the Sumpul
where tragedy flows red
and
the reclamation of that life source

I have had a partner stolen from me time and again.
Cos once you've been in
that's likely where you will end
I have been called a whore and a slut
because I like to fuck
and that's not okay for a proper lady to do
I have been denied pride
the confidence to walk with my head high
and the ability to tell truth from lie 
because I just want to be loved.

And if I can do anything at all I can
raise my boy to be a man
and that man does not equal
violence hate or posturing
but compassion equity and justice
I believe in my child
In being broken and rebuilt
In the courage to lay bare your soul 
regardless of unconfirmed judges
And I know
that with love work and hope
Mamas can raise babies who might not need as much rebuilding




**Written using a Reflect & Strengthen Our Sister's Behind the Wall writing prompt based on Assata Shakur's 'i believe in living'

A love note to music educators...

Yesterday I was outside Berklee waiting for the listening session to start and a couple yards away I spotted one of my former instructors speaking to a summer student. I watched her face, and mannerisms. I watched the student too, she was looking up at the instructor with so much respect and admiration, I could see the same feelings reflected back to the young student from the instructor. I couldn't hear their words but the tone was bubbling and happy. It was beautiful to watch because that same instructor had drawn out that same smile and energy from me numerous times. They said their goodbyes and parted ways, the instructor turned around and saw me smiling at her I said "Hey Darcel!" and she responded "OH MY GOD ALEXIA!!" and embraced me.

I was Darcel Wilson's student 17 years ago in the early years of City Music when we still called it SYSTEM-5. I was one of many vocalists in her ensemble, and far from the strongest one. I would spend the next 17 years graduating from CRLS, participating in SYSTEM-5 and 5 Week, and then the long and winding 13.5 year path to graduation from Berklee. Darcel has taught THOUSANDS of students over the years but she remembered me when I was absolutely certain she wouldn't. My heart boomed. I wanted to cry tears of... I don't know... joy? Recognition? Realness? (but obvs I didn't because mascara, duh!)

Berklee is a bustling place, it can feel like a revolving door. If you aren't a part of Singer's Showcase, it feels like you are nobody. Seeing Darcel reminded me I am one of thousands, but I AM ONE. I was not and am not invisible. Life really isn't about "who you know", but who knows you, and I needed that. <3 <3 <3

The false equivalency of #BlackLivesMatter and... Almost everything else

White folks, please read the whole thing so you don't take this as a personal attack because it isn't. 

I'm having a moment of realization around how hard many white people are pushing back against the Black Lives Matter movement/Civil Rights Reboot... it is still white supremacy at the core, however I'm noticing one particular manifestation of white supremacy - the myth of "Bootstraps" and the lack of empathy that creates, which leads to the "what about me and my struggles" reaction that clouds the vision of many. 

My mother died of AIDS – She deserves more than stigma

Today is World AIDS Day. On March 11^th of this year, my mother died of AIDS-related encephalopathy. My mother was an activist, a southern belle trapped in the north, a grandmother, and a recovering addict. In her life she survived multiple rapes and attacks on her humanity. She overcame drug addiction and homelessness. She turned her “tragedy to triumph” (yes Kanye) when she became a national advocate for ending homelessness in the HIV/AIDS community. She served on the first five years of the historic Massachusetts Ryan White Planning Council.  She lived with HIV for 16 years.

I write this because even at the time of her passing some of my closest friends did not know what she was dying from. In my heart I knew I was not ashamed of her status, so why was I being evasive?

Save #InvestInBoston

So your boy Mumbles pulled some corny stuff and vetoed Invest In Boston which passed in the city council unanimously. Please see action steps below and take them. This is Councillor Felix G. Arroyo's signature piece of legislation, we owe him this. Let's make sure it doesn't get lost in the power games of a rapidly shifting political landscape. ("thanks for feeling me on this y'all")

Another Summer (Annalisse) 4/26/07

We made it through Winter
We made it through Fall
Made it through the Spring
Hard times and all
But it feels good to see Another Summer

This morning I saw leaves on the trees
It felt like rebirth
Winters have become so cold here,
It sometimes feels like the frost will never break
The cold sets deep into the bones
The sun rarely shines
And then….in a cosmic plan
That you nor I could ever understand