Interchange

Club 180

2012-01-14T12:31:00.000-08:00

The Sankofa Concept

2012-01-13T11:50:00.000-08:00

When I called my good friend Selaelo Maredi after not seeing him since 1992, what is that 20 years, it was if it was yesterday. He asked me where I was, and when I responded Melville, he couldn’t believe I was that close. I still can hardly believe it.

I set my phone to wake me at 7 a.m. I could hardly sleep the day before—I am going to see Selaelo I kept saying to myself as I went to bed too late. I’d just seen my younger daughter off to the airport. I was now alone, no company, no one to hang out with, to haggle with vendors, to zip my backpack, to tell me I am overreacting, to ask me when I want to pull over on the side of the road for a photo, “what is your vision Mommy?”

I get up, but I am late getting out after getting dressed, packing lunch and drinking my Vega or liquid breakfast. I am riding with a new taxi driver, Pieter, who is the same person who took TaSin to the airport. I have fired Freedom, who didn’t honor our reservation at the last minute. Burning bridges is something Africans do quite easily, whether that is continental or stateside—white skin privilege is a given. Dr. Franz Fanon’s “White Skin, Black Masks,” needs to be on the required reading list for our folks worldwide and for those with privilege too, just in case they’d like to interrupt this unconscious self-degradation. It’s the little things like forgetting the promise to one’s little sister, TaSin, when one has an opportunity to fill one’s taxi with five white passengers, (who, by the way, were flying standby, and ended up returning to the hostel that same evening). Just the day before, TaSin was getting a bracelet woven and up walks a white American and the salesperson puts TaSin’s bracelet down and was going to make the white boy’s first. Mind you, TaSin was buying four bracelets, one was mine. The guy had the nerve to give me a dirty look when I took his photo despite TaSin’s explanation that we were together.

No customer service training.

Reminded me of why my father hated shopping in Oakland. The black people in Oakland, didn’t like black dollars, even though they spent like white ones. They’d act like they were doing the customer a favor when he or she was why they had a job in the first place.

When I get to Selaelo’s in Alexandra Township he tells me two stories, both mean he is happy to see me. I will never forget the honor I felt when he asked me to keep him drum when he was in exile in the United States. It was like someone asking me to safeguard their heart. I returned it, of course, but I have never been so honored ever again.

I am in Jo’burg, South Africa, the Melville District, an area of Johannesburg along the outskirts of Sophiatown, a place in South Africa where people of all races lived harmoniously. At the peak of the Apartheid regime, this town was razed and African people, indigenous African people were sent to the Southwest Township or Soweto. Military trucks came in and removed families that rainy morning. Usually when I am in Africa I eventually feel a familiar vibe, but this place, South Africa, is unlike anything I’ve know thus far. The indigenous Africans live along the periphery of economic fault lines, as if nothing has changed except the faces of the oppressors. Granted women no longer clean white women’s kitchens, instead new immigrants from places like Zimbabwe do this dirty work, while kerchief covered South African heads sweep streets, train stations and latrines in public toilets.

As an African descendent in the Diaspora, I claim citizenship throughout the continent and usually I feel at home eventually, not here, at least, not until I went to Alexandra. There was something about this ghetto that spoke to me in a way that changed my view of South Africa. These people, perhaps because they are the people whose descendents sheltered a young Mandela. Perhaps it’s because my good friend, playwright Selaelo Maredi lives here with his family, older brother, nieces and nephews, three guard dogs—perhaps this is the reason why I now feel more comfortable.
Selaelo is a Diaspora citizen. For 14 years he lived away from home writing and producing plays with well known African American artists like Danny Glover and Caribbean star, Sidney Poitier, Ed Bullins, activists and artists, Alice Walker, Fania Davis and her sister, Angela Davis, and many others whose names escape me.

Presently, he is working on a play about violence against women, namely rape, which is at epidemic proportions here in South Africa. Daily one sees in the news accounts of rape and mutilation from President Zuma to pedophiles masquerading as school teachers. Most of these men, remain unprosecuted or exonerated (like Zuma). In a country the world has looked to as a model of social, economic and political justice, the people, the black people are still suffering: unemployment and undereducation, homeless and houselessness, hunger and illness. One wonders why so many flock to the city to work when options are so slim, but for parents who want to educate their children, the rural education is often worse than that in the townships.

Selaelo speaks of his father’s passing signaling the end of his former education. His uncle sent him to a fashion institute to learn a trade, design, only to find out that those jobs were reserved for whites and with his certificate, all he could do was iron. When asked why there was such a school run by whites who knew their students would never be able to work in the industry, he said, “for the money.”

Everything is for sale: identity, favor and sometimes privilege.

Diaspora citizenship is often commoditized, similar to the way women are commoditized—the female body takes the place of the abstract and often inaccessible pain body and relief is felt when this vehicle is tarnished or removed.

America is not seen with any love here. Our companies come and invest and then leave employees without any recompense when the pseudo feeling of ease disappears almost overnight. On a South African reality tour, we pass by many vacant factories in Alexandra, now places where shacks are built. There is no government regulation in the townships. The only time government comes in is to remove families from land with the promise of permanent housing, only to give that housing away once it is complete. There was a story about such a broken promise in last week’s paper. The families were told they had to wait a year for resettlement.

At the Market Theatre Tuesday evening, January 10, 2012, three plays opened, all of them reprises: Percy Mtwa’s “Woza Albert!,” this show directed by Prince Lamla, Dael Orlandersmith’s “Yellow Man,” directed by Lara Bye, and Anthony Akerman’s “ Somewhere on the Border,” directed by Andre Odendaal. All the plays look at war whether that is internal conflict or both. Armed with different tools and strategies the battles ensue, whether that is protecting the rights of the apartheid state to racist biased rule, as is the case in “Somewhere,” or looking for something outside of the day to day oppressive reality to believe in, to give one courage, as is the case in “Woza Albert!” when protagonists find Jesus’s second coming a reason to resist the norms they’d come to accept. It doesn’t matter if one goes to church, reads the bible or prays, Morena or Jesus is one’s representative and in a place where no one seems to care about the black South African, this is encouraging. The last play’s story, “Yellowman,” which I saw in Berkeley, California, is one of pigment, skin color, a topic black people whether colonized or enslaved share.

In the news here in South Africa, a singer recently had injections to make her appear white. She thought lighter skin would make her more attractive to her boyfriend, who is a millionaire. The procedure, which is irreversible, has made is so she cannot be out in the direct sun. She also has to have regular maintenance treatments which she says she can no longer afford, now that her boyfriend has left her. The story reminds me of John Howard Griffin’s, author of “Black like Me.” Both the singer and the author take injections to change their pigment, Griffin, to turn his skin black, the singer, to turn hers white. Griffin literally poisons his system and dies from liver complications.

Getting back to” Yellowman,” in the story, the lighter complexioned man is in love with a woman who is darker and she feels inadequate, similar to the singer. Set in South Carolina, the play has obvious resonance here.

One wants to belong. African people are relationship people, which means, we thrive in community not isolation.

America is a place where no one belongs except the Native Americans, the few left. As a person of African descent, I belong in that my ancestors are responsible more than any other constituency or group of people for the wealth founding families built this empire upon. I come from unwilling immigrants, not indentured, but captured and bound first physically, then spiritually and psychologically to such an extent that my people are a new people: no conscious connection to Diaspora lineage. Many of my people are not interested in exploring this connection to Diaspora, to ancestral memory(s), yet, without such an exploration we will remain lost, confused and enslaved to behaviors that guarantee our extinction.

Black history did not begin with European conquest, yet, this is the history most of us are conversant. In my work over the past 16 years, I have looked at the riff that occurred when Africans were taken from the continent renamed for a western explorer, a place formally known as Alkebulan or land of the blacks. Dr. Marimba Ani, calls this horrific period “the Maafa,” Kiiswahili for terrible occurrence or reoccurring calamity. The Maafa then is perhaps the worse crime against humanity in our collective histories, yes, even surpassing what happened to the Jews and Roma and homosexuals and some blacks during WW2. What is so horrific about the Maafa or African Holocaust is the way its history is unresolved 150 or so years later. A trauma unaddressed, does not go away, it just gets pushed down and appears in other ways, namely through behavior.

The Maafa Ritual is a way to address this silence. An annual event, it is a time when people of African descent come together to give our ancestors, namely, those who were not mourned, those whose spirits continue to wander, an opportunity to rest. The ceremony is predawn and takes the participants through the ordeal. There is a Door of No Return, where our ancestors passed, no knowing that this would be the last time they touched home-land. We have an altar for prayer and supplication and then in the circle we pour libations, give prayers, sing, dance –leaving space for spontaneity, so spirit feels free to have its way.

I have found in my travels that continental Africans are also addressing this PTSD or Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome coupled with what Selaelo called pull down syndrome, where one does not wish other like himself well, he or she tries to crush their progress.

In Rufisque, Senegal, there are women called The Congregation or who are skilled with addressing mental illness and aberrant behavior associated with such illness. The entire community is involved with the cure which involves music, song, dance and medicine. There are such healers in the Kikongo tradition as well and here in South Africa among the Sangoma.

Alexandra Township, Johannesburg, South Africa

2012-01-09T09:12:00.000-08:00

Today was a crazy day. We were supposed to get out about 10 this morning and ended up leaving the hostel at 11:50 a.m. The tour guide was angry that we were not paying full price for the tour, even though, we'd drummed up additional business for him. They made 800 rand which was a lot less than he would have made if he'd had the courtesy to call and tell us he was delayed.

So the guy pouted for most of the journey there and then at the start of the tour, as we were about to go to the visit some residents who lived in an abandoned factory, the factory had been the site of a large fire too, but was now filled with shacks. He sat in the car and yelled at us to pay him 300 rand. We said no.

He called his brother, Freedom, whom I explained the situation to. We were cut off and then Freedom tried to call me back, but I didn't answer the call. Finally his brother and the driver, a sister who understood our plight and told her colleague that the time he was to pick us up was going to conflict with the tour they were on in Soweto.

Silence.

He had the nerve to say that this was the worse tour he'd ever done. I agree, he took us places randomly, it felt as we didn't know where we were. We went to a Catholic church, but I don't know why it was a part of the tour. There we met two priests from Washington, who were a part of a parish in Oakland, Sacred Heart. I know the church and school. After the earthquake in 1986 the church had to be rebuilt. We had a bakery, sandwich shop across the street from it, Delightful Foods, Marcus Books was down the street (still is) and Kwaku had a African Learning Center next door to us.

It was a Pan African block with an artist shop on the other side of 4026 Grove Street. The street was renamed, Martin Luther King Jr. Way.

I digress.

So we look try to find Bonginkosi's friends. He lived here with his sister. Our driver lived here with he aunt. She showed me where. This place was rough, no running water, wet areas between the shacks. One had to climb over rocks and up blocks of partial stairs. It was often precarious especially when one wanted to avoid rodents--I presume mothers keep special watch over their children.

I am watching a film, called The Bang Bang Club as I write this. The film is about journalists, white photojournalists who are covering the conflict between Inkatha and African National Congress. The problem is the war is between two ethnic groups who have the same enemy, the Apartheid government. This war, perpetrated by the white South African government is distracting the world from the real atrocities--that is, the theft of a nation from a people.

We saw the hostels where the men lived during apartheid, the men who lived away from their families, working most of the year in Soweto in the mines.

This film, told from the perspective of a freelance photographer who lands in the middle of the conflict, gets nominated for a Pulitzer.

Sunday, January 8, 2012, on the ANCs 100th Anniversary, the Xhosa and Zulu, Sothu, live separately, go to separate schools--it's not a war, but after the agreement struck between the two political parties relationships are tenuous.

People are so angry or bitter or something besides happy, all I get are frowns and teeth sucking as only a pissed off South African can make (smile). A kid made the sound when I didn't give him money.

Today in Alexandra, where conditions are the worse I've seen to date, the people are so warm and friendly. They possess a spirit that remains undefeated, even in the face of circumstances where boy children at seven cannot live with their mothers in the women's hostel. It is a big place with 1000s of single units were the women share a kitchen and toilet/baths. Many women, young and older, still make their livings as domestic workers, just now, instead of working for families, they work for the South African government municipality.

I see black women cleaning toilets at the transit station, sweeping the city streets of Jo'burg, heads tied or wrapped at restaurants, while the men guard stores, police shopping malls. There are malls owned by black men, one South African in Sowetho, the other one in Jo'Burg and another I saw today, in Alexandra is owned by a Nigerian as is the one in Jo'burg.

Men sit around unable to find work while liquor signs are the main topic on billboards. I am happy to see a few small stores in the community. We buy candy for the little children we take photos of. One mother tells us that they haven't had sweets for a while. I buy twenty lollipops and twenty packs of bubble gum at one stand and twenty at another where the poor fellow has to run to several stores in both directions for change 30 rand from a 50 rand note. I would have bought more lollipops but he didn't have anymore.

One lady asked what brought us there, would our photographs get them out of the "shit" they were living in. I said, I certainly hoped so. Alexandra is so much worse that Soweto. Perhaps its the concentration of shacks, juxtaposed with the hostels which look like large apartments. Made out of brick, they remind me of the projects in New Orleans demolished after the great flood. They also look like the artist housing in New York. I think its called co-housing or something like that. In any case, it is subsidized housing there and here.

Now in New Orleans residents cannot find enough affordable housing since the demolitions.

We saw Mandela's old home there. Someone else lives there now. A community center highlighting the history of the area is under construction, but it has been under construction for years now. We were going to have an African meal, but the houseteraunt we went by wasn't open today. I was looking forward to a South African meal or at least seeing what one looked like.

This would have been the first meal included with a tour. I think we were to see a village, but that didn't happen or the visit to Sandton to see Mandela's statue, but I am happy we found Salaelo Maredi, and I got to see Alexandra.

Did I mention the famous director who was in exile in the United States? He produced plays in Berkeley and along the Pacific Northwest. One time while he was traveling he asked me to keep his drum. Pat, from Vukani Mawethu told me to go by the Alexandra clinic and ask for him, which we did. The first question had to do with his affiliation, Inkhata or ANC. I told them ANC.

We had to ask a lot and then this really nice woman, who worked in maternal childcare, took us around the clinic introducing me to other expats who all know each other. Finally she called her brother, who'd lived abroad and he had been a roommate of Salaelo's, talk about small world. He was still in Bloemfontein, but I called Selaelo and he invited me to go to Pretoria with him in the morning to check out his new play.

I am still trying to decide if I am going to Durban and to Cape Town. It is supposed to be really beautiful, but I am not sure if I feel like traveling. I'd like to see the countryside and the rural areas of South Africa, but I am not sure if I will see them on the minibus experience. I'd love to take the train, but I am not comfortable traveling alone given my experiences here, so we shall see (smile). Cape Town is not going anywhere.

2 January 2012

2012-01-02T07:41:00.000-08:00

Back in Tana December 31, 2011

We just finished eating dinner: chicken brochettes with legumes, bread and ketchup for TaSin. It is just 9:53 p.m. I think I’ll go to bed. Nothing is happening up here and I went to bed late yesterday.

January 1, 2012

We don't get out early. TaSin has to undo something she did on her computer. She probably deleted something accidentally and has to restore it through the temporary files in Task Manager, so I guess I will do my grades.

We saw the fire eating man again; this time we saw him eat fire and extinguish the flame in his pants. We had fun wandering taking photos of fathers out with their families on a warm, dry Sunday afternoon. The afternoon typically means rain—the sky gets dark, the wind starts blowing and then comes the diagonal rain drops—rain storm. Across from the hotel is a pomegranate tree.

There was no water until the afternoon today; the electricity flickered as well, however the big problem is the water. When it came on, we did laundry. It is our last opportunity before South Africa.

January 2, 2012

Today we got out early, 8 a.m. Jany met us and we started our day before the sun got hot. We missed lunch but got a lot accomplished, even visited an area of Tana we hadn't seen before.

There were two boys singing blessings to the New Year by Ortana, which was closed. They were on the stairs we frequent when traversing the area between downtown and uptown. I started to take a photo and then stopped. I am going to stop second guessing myself. It is kind of intimidating hanging with a professional photographer with a camera that lets you capture what you see the way you see it. TaSin says it's the artist not the equipment. However, I am the one watching pictures vanish simply because what I see is too far away, the sun is making it impossible to see it clearly or the camera setting makes the image blurry. Maybe they will be there in the morning (smile).

I thought about Harry Belafonte and how proud he would be of the boys, who had strong harmonies. It was about lunchtime then and folks were either eating or napping, what happens when it is hottest. Our radius is predictable, we have traversed the same territory enough now to recognize photos we've shot or people we've seen, like the pineapple lady I saw yesterday. I hope she had a fresh supply. I also know some of the regular beggars, like a sweet little girl in a wheelchair. She has a lovely smile and sits with a can propped in her lap. She is in a wheelchair.

The boulevard where we people watch wasn't as busy as yesterday, but it was still busy. The mayor's office is down here and today a soldier played a song on his bugle. Yesterday or the day before they were drilling. I couldn't stop to watch because TaSin was leaving me.

Have I told you yet about crossing the street Madagasy style. Certainly this is tongue in cheek. The drivers speed up when they see people in the center of the street. We almost met a few angels many times over the past few weeks. We generally walk with the Madagasy people and cross with someone who is familiar with the rhythm of the traffic. Police direct traffic for a reason--safety (smile).

People do not have the right away. One time, there was motorbike on the sidewalk with us and its driver still had no consideration for pedestrians. TaSin kind of jumped out of the way with "where did he come from?"

As Jany crossed. The rule is, if you get left behind stay on the sidewalk and wait until the coast is clear again. This might take a while. Drivers here do drive like we do: driver on the left. I am not sure if I would drive. I am not certain about right-aways and signals or their absence. I know drivers rely on their horns and when you hear one, you are supposed to jump to the right so he can pass. I saw this alot in the country with shepherds and their zebu.

We went back by the coin exchange and got some old coins. Some of the bills have coin equivalents when the exchange was francs sans Ariary (which is at the bottom of the coin. I don't know why). Reminds me of the money in Senegal and Mali. The coins have zebu on them and one has a rooster, another a queen (French), and the other two I can't read. I will have to clean them up first. The oldest coin I bought is 1943. It's 1 franc. It is copper with a rooster on it. I think it is worth the least, but it is the prettiest (smile).

We picked up the stamps we ordered yesterday and then placed another order with another stamp maker. We went back to pick them up and realized I'd forgotten Pat. I just thought about how I also forgot Carol Afua. Oh well. We have to go and get Pat's stamp in the morning, since it started raining this afternoon.

We saw these two women wearing really lovely cloth, and asked them where they bought the fabric. Their answer is what took us to the part of Tana where the Indians live. We also saw some really fashionably dressed Muslim women, really stylish. I saw a man with two casts on his legs. I gave him a love offering. I saw a lot of old guys hanging out today, a bubble vendor and lots of kids eating ice cream. It was that kind of hot. Then, it is always that kind of hot in Tana: the hilly lovely capital of Madagascar.

Oh, before I forget, we went to a music store where one of the clerks looked like my brother. We had fun listening to music. There is a Madagascar artist who raps like Tupac, he really sounds like him. His message is from ghetto. One of his songs is about girl gangsters. Gangs in Tana are not like gangs in Oakland. The drug is marijuana and the biggest vice is prostitution. We saw a girl who looked like she was a prostitute this afternoon in Indian-town. She was wearing a copper colored wig and a short skirt. There are no handguns. I think the weapon of choice is a knife—if what happened to the tourists in the taxi in Morondava is any indicator. The bandits cut the throat of one of the drivers. He died.

We got more rubber gloves, ours have holes in both pair. We went by Shoprite too and got a free calendar, picked up more cashews and almonds, a towel for my wet face (smile), juice drinks for TaSin, water: Sainto for $1500 AR. We bought Eau Vive earlier. Because of the hills one has to think when one purchases items whether or not she can carry it up the hill (smile). I couldn't find packaged fried bananas, so I settled for the eastern mix sans, which I learned means --without chili. I had the one with chilies when we were on our road trip and it made my stomach hurt. The ingredients are roasted peanuts, potato chips and other interesting pretzels looking items, and something green like a leaf.

We went to a music store and listened to music. It was fun; we then bought a compilation CD and a CD with music from the south: Tsapiky featuring: Teta, Le Corrail Noir, Riake, Medicis, Tearano, Koezy, Zambey, Tsivery, Jafira, Laba and others. Another CD which is hot is called "Best of Best" (yes, in English, which made us think that Ameoba might have a Madagasy section (hum?). The Best of features artisrs from throughout Madagascar: Tense Mena, Jerry Marcoss, Lôla, Faqrah John's, Mima, Melky, Dat, Kôtry, Vaiavy Chila, Onja, and Wawa. We bought a DVD, Salegy Fever: La Fiévre du Salegy, with a concert featuring Wawa and many other artists like Vaneys, Vaiavy Chila, Lola, Black Nadia, Tafita, Rivera, DJ Bungalow, and Toto Mwandjani.

The recorded concert featuring Wawa live was in the north, Nosy Be area. That would have been the party for New Years. I have to find the spot for next year. I have yet to get my dance on for a New Year’s in the African Diaspora yet.

We are back at the hotel. Jany kindly translated the sayings on my Madagasy cloth—I forgot what they are called. I think we have five or six of them. He also told me about the royal family on the stamps I bought last week. I do have the queen who refused to be colonized by the Catholic church, the cool lady who tossed the converts off the cliff by her castle. After she passed, ruling over 30 years, the following queens, all three of them married the prime minister, Rainilairivony, who changed the law or constitution so that he was more powerful than the king. I have the stamp with the final queen as well. She is the one who the French General Joseph Simon Gallieni, helped escape the French and go into exile in Algeria. He is the one who donated his dwelling to the Madagasy government and is now a community center. It is not far from the Queen's Castle, which was burned down and the crown stolen.

We also tried to find DVDs to copy some of my photos and sims cards for my camera. We found three 8 GB at $40.000 AR each and 10 DVDs for $15.000 AR. That is $20 and $7.50 US respectively.

I did a little sewing, trimmed the edges of one of my pieces of fabric, blue with flowers. It says: "Ny Olon Tiana Tsy Mahalavin Tany," which speaks to long distance love. It says love bridges the distance.

I am not sure about that, unless one has frequent travel miles. It is a pretty piece of cloth. It was a remnant, and it matches my skirt from Senegal in navy with a lighter blue pattern of giraffes, masks, cowries, and elephants. I am also wearing my COA tee shirt from yesterday's dinner. I couldn't file my grades yesterday. I hope the system is up today.

I plan to complete the grades after dinner, the usual: brochettes du poulet, legumes with lots of garlic, "ail" in French "tongolo gasy," in Madagasy. We ordered a side of fritz. It wasn't as good as previous meals. Great one doesn't tip. No one expects it. Is tipping an American thing?

The staff could certainly use a tip here, perhaps more than waiters in the US. It's all relative.

It is storming now. We ate lychee to tide us over until the unsatisfying meal. Well, it was okay to me. I had been missing salad; I guess the chef heard me and grilled cucumbers on the brochette--yes, pretty creative cooking. With rules like: only eat food which is piping hot or peeled, one can only do so much gastronomically.

I wonder what people eat in South Africa? I am so excited. I want to dance every night and hangout grooving to music.

They speak English in South Africa. I don't think I can pass for South African, but who knows. There might be an ethnic group I can vibe with (smile).

Starting the New Year in Madagascar

2012-01-01T07:37:00.000-08:00

We got out about 12 noonish. Late. All the stores were closed. The balcony of the restaurant overlooks a big park. Each Sunday for the past three weeks, we've been coming back into town or out of town on Sundays, like Christmas (smile). So we were not able to walk down to see the amusements--It's really nice.

There were the Santas posing with brave little kids. The black man would put on his white Santa mask, his brown arms a mix match no one seemed to care about. There was a prop and one real Santa, the one we saw did a little dance while a mother gave her child a pep talk.

Most of the stores were closed, even vendors were absent; however, there were enough food vendors out, along with balloon salesmen and women. Parents were out with kids and as we stood on a corner behind the beach ball salesman we got some really nice photos.

TaSin is doing a series on dads and Madagasy men love their children and were out in large numbers. It was a mob of folks walking toward the park and away from the park.

When we got to the park, we looked at the games and rides from outside--there were just too many people. There was a train ride for families--it went in a circle. There was the ferris wheel, flying airplanes, an obstacle course for the bigger kids, a trampolin, plus slides and other climbing structures common to parks. There was even a huge inflated Snoopy.

Concessioners walked between the folks seated on the grass just enjoying the warm day--peanuts, salami which you could buy slices of, outside there were booths selling beer and other nonalcoholic drinks and Madagasy finger foods as well as meals.

The sky began to grow dark and we felt a bit of a drizzle and decided to head back to the hotel. We'd ordered stamps for friends, but decided to pick them up in the morning.

It didn't start raining until we'd been back for quite some time though. Dry is still better than soaking wet.

On our way down the hill, we stopped at the fancy bakery and TaSin had some rich pastry. She had a butter filled pasty and a pineapple filled one with whipped cream. This bakery is next door to the fancy hotel where the folks with lots of money stay (smile).

People smoke too much around here. The French, not the Madagasy. I haven't seen a Madagasy person smoking anything yet, just French people--men and women.

The sun is down, and there is the occasional lightning in the sky now.

Imani: Faith

2011-12-31T23:54:00.000-08:00

Today is New Year's Day in Madagascar. We're celebrating it again at 11:55 AM; 11:56 PM Pacific time--right, two New Years Days in one lifetime. I've been here before, in fact for the past four years I have celebrated New Years twice.

This New Year's day there is no running water. We didn't have any yesterday afternoon either. The prices at the hotel go up today as well. We have to go make sure they note the account that we want a discount for the bucket showers we did not agree to. It rained enough yesterday from 4 p.m. until after midnight to leave us flush, but I don't think this place is set up to catch rainwater. In Haiti at Rea Dol's home and in Mali at Aissata Ba's home, both families use the rain water and solar energy.

We were never without water, it was cold, sometimes, but it ran. We are going to go out an get water and mosey around and see what the folks do on Sunday. We are going to go by the mosque and make two rakats.

I am wearing my African print pants. I have to find a scarf to cover my hair with and my arms. We'd planned to do the rest of our laundry today. I am going to grade the portfolios for all my classes at COA. The grades are due in by January 3.

We are in the basement of the hotel. It smells like mold or sour clothes. In any case, it is not pretty. The only plus side is for two people it is $25,000 AR a night, which is $12.50 US. Lunch averages about $4.50 US at a restaurant for foreigners. Water costs more--Eau Vive is the drink of choice here between $4000 --the highest we've seen and $1500 on the lower end of the scale. Two weeks ago we saw rides for the kids on a Sunday, I hope they have them at the park down the street today. That would be fun to capture in a Kodak or Fuji or Canon moment.

My cards are all full and so is my computer's hard drive. I have to find some technology, I have another country to hit in two days and I know I am going to want to video the 100th Anniversary of the ANC.

More later.

Avenue of the Baobabs

2011-12-31T11:38:00.001-08:00

Nia Girl

2011-12-30T11:38:00.000-08:00

Dec. 14, 2011

My daughter is a Diaspora child. Wherever she goes, the people claim her as one of them, whether that is Cuba, Jamaica or Madagascar. No one sees me. I could all but disappear as Africans claim their Pan African kinswoman, TaSin.

There is so much to see at the King’s Palace—he is the one who had 12 wives, one for each of the mountain tops that encircle Tana, twelve wives on twelve mountain tops or hillsides. The palace we visit is the summer home. It is a traditionally built house, an A-frame rooftop atop a square base. The king slept on a raised bed, his wife is in another bed across the room.

We enter the room or chamber with our right foot and exit backward, so as to show respect—there is a sacred altar in the northeast corner of the large room. People prayed and made offerings there.

There is a photo or painting of the king. The youthful ruler, has dredlocks and holds a spear in his hand. He looks fierce. In the chamber there are serving dishes or bowls and a round dining area where the king would entertain. The benches were also game boards. Madagasy people seem to like board games, a pastime that continues to this day. At any gathering one sees people playing cards or board games, which might be drawn on the ground with chalk and played with rocks.

Next to the bed and cabinet or shelves, is a tall ladder leading into the roof’s rafters. There the king would sit and listen to his guests while his wife entertained. He would drop acorns down signally his decisions to her.

The king was in great shape to be able to climb all those rungs to the top where no one could see him. We left the king’s palace for the rest of the chambers, one where the queens stayed. I think there were three queens who lived there over the course of the monarchy.

There was also a huge bath where the royal couple would have a ceremonial bath. Presently people still make sacrifices there at the sacred tree nearby. The last queen liked European comforts and decorated her chambers with ornate touches one might see at the castle in Europe, chandeliers, embroidered chairs, curtains—long wooden tables and a huge bed. There was also the requisite matching dining ware. I don’t remember carpeting though.

When we left there was another musical presentation, Jany called it “Jijy” from the Sakalava or “Vako-Drazana,” both rap/poetry. (check accuracy here).

“Faly izahay mahita sy mandne ananeo

Ny najana no miahy.”

The trip to the zoo by way of the stadium and a private high school was fun. We saw Muslim girls in hijab.

Malagasy Zoo

The zoo was so green and within the gardens there were many installations of indigenous housing styles and the mysterious tomb replicas for the different ethnic groups in Madagascar: the highlands, east, west and south.

This was a highpoint of the visit. The traditional dwelling or house installations showcased the A-frame design was constant with variations on the theme—some with a veranda for those hot days.

We saw a warthog, shy lemurs circling their cages or hiding behind paws—there was a hungry crocodile who ate the hands of a slow feeder. Talk about a dangerous job. This is a cautionary tale to accompany the saying about (not) biting the hand that feeds you.

Madagasy are great storytellers, at least the few I have met are (smile). Jany told us about another crocodile up north who over a period of ten years ate five children, two adults and twenty zébu, before the townsfolk caught him.

This croc was slumbering. He must have been full.

We saw eagles who only ate fresh or live fish. As I spoke about the bald eagle as we stood in front of the cage, I read a plaque that said the eagles were a gift from the United States. Jany said eagles only have two eggs and only one survives the fight to the death. One sibling kills the other. Only the stronger bird survives. I wonder if this is true; if so, where is the parental oversight?

The park also boasts lush vegetation and a small baobab which is 50 years old, but is a dwarf. Graffiti covers palm leaves and bird droppings or feces have turned vegetation a new color— We passed by the stadium and the angel monument in the center of the man-made Lake. It reminded us of Lake Merritt, just a bit dirtier and perhaps smaller.

Nia woman

The Madagasy stone is TaSin’s birth stone (Sept.) Sapphire. That’s pretty cool.

Dec. 30, 2011—

Back at the train station, we saw some really nice jewelry this afternoon. The necklace we liked the most was $150 US. We went there to get the dolls I liked. The price went up from last time to 10.000 each. We decided to leave them. There was some nice smelling soap with Madagascar imprinted on it—vanilla, licorice, and other fragrances, but they might not hold up in hot weather. We went back upstairs and found some really pretty dolls, that were not there last time we visited a couple of weeks ago.

We went by a fast food restaurant and TaSin had a chicken burger and fries. I had a roasted poulet with chutney, papaya chutney and fritz. Her catchup is fluorescent red. I wonder what the tomatoes look like—certainly not like the one on my plate which I leave. We do not do salad (smile). There is really nice art in the establishment as well and it is set on the corner we like to hang out on and watch the people. It is also near “Times Square.” We plan to end up there New Years Eve and see if there are fireworks.

The paintings I like are mixed media of a group of people reading the newspaper at a newsstand, a typical sight in Tana and elsewhere. People read here. There are a lot of reading rooms set up where people read the bible and other religious material, but even in the most rural area of Madagascar, people are reading the paper and people speak French, the money language here.

The other picture I like is of the three baobabs one sees when traveling through the Avenue of the Baobabs, with a twist. The artist has added a reflection of the trees in a pool of water, which makes the common scene a bit magical and lovely.

Today everyone was out with their kids. We saw two circles of people surrounding a street artist, one a fire eater, the other a magician. The fire eater tried to jam TaSin when he saw her taking photos. We missed the show, but he must have been good; there was lots of money in the circle. The magician made a stuffed teddy bear fall out of his hat. We didn’t understand his jokes about the play snake, but when he pulled out the real snake, wrap it around his neck and walk around, people stepped back. He didn’t get as much money from the crowd. I think he was more gab than skill.

All along the walkway between let’s call the top of the boulevard, the one that the famous people came down with the police escort yesterday, the park with the map of Madagascar on a monument, with famous people surrounding the stature, the end of the boulevard the train station the folks were out. There was even the local radio station with a truck, like KMEL and KBLX does at fairs and concerts. The only thing, there was a live artist singing.

There were photographers taking photos of kids with Santa—yes, a bit late, but maybe it was a sale. The black Santa had a white mask (smile). There were also two other tableaus—one for infants, another with water. Really creative and pretty. There were horse rides and cotton candy, lots of favors and party hats, bubbles. Madagasy people like bubbles and where there are children, one can usually find an adult blowing bubbles for them.

We went by the bank after Planete: Snack-Burger-Salon de the Service Traiteur where TaSin had her first burger with fries. I had grilled chicken. I was really good. We skipped dinner. I am still not hungry. At the hotel, the cook took the day off. Funny no one told us yesterday, dinner was on you own.

We went by a really plush hotel, The Colbert. There was a pianist playing live jazz. Next door was a candy and pastry shop. It was a ritzy row, valet parking and panhandling was only allowed in the parking lot we found out as we were attacked by a well-fed, well-dressed mom with babe in arms while two other kids asked for our money and our purchases from Shoprite. Kids and mom were plenty nervy. We avoided them by getting back on the sidewalk. They thought we’d come out of the $100 a night hotel.

Dream on.

Not Chronologically Speaking

After lunch, at the only bank that take MasterCard, TaSin’s card was captured. Can you imagine? She tried to get 400,000 AR and without a word the card was GONE. You know I was not about to put my card in an ATM after that. The one good thing is that this was a bank. Not Bank of Africa, which doesn’t take MC, but Visa, but BNI of Madagascar. We went in. They woman said to come back Monday. We were like—but we are leaving the country. Someone went out and got the card. We noticed a huge file with the words CAPTURED on it.

She told me since I didn’t have an account there, all I could do was use the ATM. I was able to get money—B of A, not Bank of Africa, the other, had been giving me grief. My card had been refused after making a small transaction—like $17 dollars early on during the trip. I went to the market, Shoprite and the clerk didn’t know how to run the card so BofA got nervous and put a hold on my account. I called them and read them the riot act. I’d told them I’d be traveling so they wouldn’t pull this on me. It happened in Senegal last year and Haiti last year as well. The only thing I like about BofA is the acronym, now that I’ve seen Bank of Africa, which people call in Madagasy, “BofA.” Funny coincidence. Bank of America does not have an affiliate here.

I'd wanted to get some Madagasy money, and we were all set to buy quite a bit back at the forest in Andasibe we'd picked out quite a few old bills and then the price went up twice, from $5000 to $10,000 to $50,000. We put it all back. So when I saw the $5000 Ariary note Vinct Cinq Mille Francs $25000, which are no longer used--but really pretty designs--heroes and artists, along with landscapes past and iconic imagery like the zebu and baobabs and lemurs. The note I bought has a proud looking black man on the front with the country in relief, a baobab near his left hand; it is almost as if the tree is growing from his hand. On the back of the note, is the zebu and two men wrestling. It cost me $10.000 AR or $5 US.

There were also the usual clusters of grungy kids playing together or begging. Lots of kids were drawing with rocks on the pavement. The kids are really creative. I didn’t see any black dolls outside the collectibles I found at the train station galleries or at the hotels we’ve stayed at.

In Antsirabe, the dolls were dusty, they’d been on display so long.

I am not certain if I mentioned the staircases that connect the upper and lower neighborhoods. Really nice staircases literally cut into the sides of hillsides which make the trek up a lot easier, because there are also landings. It is all cobbled and the step is often steep, yet one finds adults and children scaling the stairs like farmers do the same in the countryside where the steps are the space between rice fields, corn, cassava, beans and other crops.

Of course there are vendors along the stairways, so one can shop too. Artisans who carve stamps of Madagasy landscapes and iconic symbols also set up shop here. TaSin tries on sunglasses which range from $2.50 to $5.00 US. She finds some glasses when we reach the bottom of the hill on our way to the plaza. We call them her Malcolm X glasses. They are really sharp, so we don't mind paying the higher price.

We often see people making up prices on the spot. When this happens we decide whether or not we really want the item. Today the sign "tourist" seemed to be plastered on our foreheads. Other times people can't tell. I had on a lapa and a scarf over my head and TaSin had on her usual slacks and scarf. In any event, we couldn't pass today (smile).

I saw Muslim men in long robes and fez. I wonder is there is another mosque where the Madagasy Muslims make salat? In Morondava there were two really big masaajid or mosques near each other, one for the indigenous folks and one for the immigrants. The mosque we pass on our walks up and down the hill only have Arabs entering and exiting. One sees women in black hijab (Arab women) and the more colorfully dressed Madagasy Muslim women, also in hijab, but not black.

The nuns also wear hijab, white and blue.

Back to the stamps

There might be four artisans in a row selling the same thing. It is really, who gets to you first. The artist whose stamps we purchased had a portfolio we liked and I didn’t know he would personalize the stamps we bought with the names of the people they were for. It was pretty cool.

We barely made it back in time to get the stamps we’d purchased—four stamps—two of lemurs, one each whales and a baobab. The artists engraved the names of the people were getting them for on the stamps for us. This is something we see a lot—stamp designers. They were $20,000 AR or $10 US.

After the train station, where the security guard told us that we needed to watch our possessions, as he let us into the train station. Once he realized that TaSin was taking a photo of the sky, not him. Madagasy men guard property, they don't own, similar to in the US. One sees a lot of black men, especially African men hired as guards. I guess it is a way to flip the scary black male mystique in an economically advantageous way, cause white people aren't the only people afraid of black men, black people, including black men, are equally afraid.

Strange phenomena. We are used against ourselves.

Inside the Train Station, gone were all the paintings and other pre-Christmas sale items. The main lobby, which is also a café, was empty. Michel told us that though the train is gone, one can rent the train for a ride. I was happy to see trains in the countryside. It is too bad one cannot hop a train from the outskirts of Tana to its interior. It would certainly expedite the transport of goods in both directions for those who do not own cars.

We went from there to the store, where we got TaSin’s staples: breakfast rolls and juice drinks. I got cashews. There were no almonds—we found a store closer with water so we don’t have to lug the heavy water from town up all the stairs to the hotel anymore.

My breakfast the first week was Vega Complete Whole Food Health Optimizer, an All-in-one, natural plant-based formula—I mix it with 8 oz. water and 5-6 drops of NutriBiotic Grapefruit Seed Extract (GSE), a natural anti-biotic in the morning. It keeps me going until about 1 or 2 p.m. especially if I have a banana too. I brought enough Vega packages for the entire trip. I take my malaria pill with it and other supplements like B-1 and garlic oil capsules, Andrographis Extract (Supports Immune Function), Body Pure (Heel BHI), Bilberry Complex (for my vision), Keep Fit and Ren Shen Jian Pi Wan (Ginseng Stomach), NutriBiotic Maximum Strength, Defense Plus (when I feel under the weather).

I also carry and take a multiple vitamin, AlphaScob-C (pills and powder), Echinacea, Astragalus, Boneset, Nettle and Quercetin w/Bromelin (supports immune function), Oil of Evening Primrose, Red Sea Kelp, Feverfew, B-complex, a glandular supplement: heart, kidneys, spleen, liver, adrenal. I have Traumeel and Arniflora Arnica gel for pain, swelling and stiffness, also insect bites, in the emergency medicine box—did I mention that I fell three times already while here? Yep. I carry a flashlight too for the uneven pavement. That doesn’t help me when the lights go out in the hotel and I forget that there is step leading to the door and fall down the three short steps. I also fall down steps outside the hotel in Antsirabe. I am still wearing bandages, but the cuts are almost healed. I have Similasan for Anxiety relief, along with Oat Extract and Bach’s Rescue Remedy Spray. I also carry Benadryl and Loratadine for Claritin for food allergies and hives. No matter how well I eat and try to stay away from foods that break me out, things slip into my system and these drugs keep me from itching too much.

Dr. Webb hooked me up three years ago with the Keep Fit, Body Pure and Ginseng Stomach, Astragulus, Echinacea and Boneset. I was already taking Absorb-C. The nutritionist told me about B-1 and garlic when I went to Haiti the first time and wanted a natural mosquito repellent. Maria, also at the Foodmill Store in Oakland turned me onto Defense Plus, which I like better than The Wellness Formula, when one is really sick. I like the Wellness Formula: Cold and Flu, but the FDA in its shortsightedness is making vitamins and natural supplements harder and harder to acquire. She told me about Andrographis Extract this time for travel. TaSin and I took it the first week to build up our immune system. I was already taking the Nettle and Quercetin for hives and Feverfew and Oil of Evening Primrose for migraines. I haven’t had any headaches in a while. I started taking acidophilus 8 billion for my stomach flora last year to control the Candida or yeast. I also stopped all milk products and went gluten free and sugar free. I am eating way too many bananas and other sweet fruits, but oh well, I am traveling.

Other regiments might work well for people, but I have never gotten sick and when I get a stomach ache or a sore throat, it doesn’t last more than a day.

This is probably way more detail than you asked for, but it works.

We are back at the pad, hotel pad that is. We moved our second and last time. We were upstairs, now we are downstairs. The room is larger down here, not as much natural light. The room next to us as this fantastic view and a loft space without a ladder, just like our window seat upstairs in room 3 had dead bugs in it, even if there had been a ladder.

The rooms with natural light seem to get cleaned better. Perhaps the maids think we won’t see the dirt because the rooms are so dimly lit? There are cobwebs under the lovely art on the walls. How do I know? Well, when we remove the painting to hang up our clothes lines, there are cobwebs. I wipe the shelves down and move the wicker shelves and there is dust and dirt and other crap behind the furniture.

We made a reservation two weeks ago before we left, but it wasn’t submitted so we have to settle for this room, which is not as bad as what we’ve seen in the pass week, but it is certainly not great. We have not stayed in any of the better rooms here.

Such is life in the big city.

We haven’t decided what to do tomorrow yet, but it will be a blast, I am sure.

2011-12-29T10:25:00.000-08:00

We went by this place that is listed in TaSin's Madagascar book, Ortana. There are two sites, one just around the corner from where we were staying when I wrote this note. They were a wealth of information, maps and tours. They also host free or almost free cultural events. There was a great concert, I wanted to attend but it happened the weekend we were going to the market to see the zebu.

The concert was with a folk singer who was supposed to be really good. He also, played traditional instruments.

We decided to go visit the other Ortana site where they lead walking tours. There we met Jany, who is Merina and loves history. He led us on the three hour walk, which included the Queen's palace. We ended up going the next day to the king's palace and the next day to the zoo. We were going to travel to the east coast to Morondava with him, but we would have had to ride the bus, so TaSin worked the deal with Vivi, Owen's Tours for a million AR.

We even let Vivi bring his wife and kid.

The walk with Jany ended at dusk where we had dinner. This was the dinner where we met Michel and his wife Dani whom I mention in an earlier post (smile).

TaSin and I took a taxi to Ortana and walked back.

December 14-15, 2011

Today we had the opportunity of seeing local culture from two areas of Madagascar, the Sakelava (Boina) and the Merina. The Merina dancers, musicians and singers were first and reminded me of Mexican folk dance—bare foot, the men had on straw hats and the women pinafores in pink floral colors with scarves they used in the performance as well. The musicians wore long skirts and played the guitar, accordion and other instruments. For the second dance ensemble what I noticed before seeing them were the djembes. The women sat in a circle and played sticks—striking them together and also hitting each other’s—there were songs accompanying the playing and from time to time one of the women would get up and dance.
The women had on geles and lapas, more traditionally African in look. I found Jany’s comments about Indonesia and how there is a town in Indonesia that was similar to the one in Madagascar these people come from, interesting.

I don’t know why there were no men singing in the circle, but later there was a song, a spiritual song to the ancestors that a male soloist sang. The majority of the musicians were also male.
[There was a song sung with religious or spiritual references]—it seems, from the sacred trees to the sacred mountains or hills—to the reverence of the zebu—its flesh, blood, skin and excrement everything is blessed. There were altars all over the castle grounds. Taboo is called “faddy” and one doesn’t want to displease the spiritual realm which seems really close to the physical one.

King Andrianampoinimerina’s castle sits on a hill just outside Ilafy; it is his winter palace. I recalled his story from yesterday. He is the king who married 12 queens and placed them each on one of the hills (ca. 1750–1810). What we saw today was the palace.

12/27/2011 Notes
Poor doesn’t have to mean primitive—the bathrooms at the services station was nice: toilet tissue, water, soap, clean.
I can spare two bananas I hope. I have 4 left and then lychee which I hope is not spoiled. Vivi and Sandra are the epitome of travel on a budget. The tour guides get kickbacks at Joseph’s jewelry place, at the hotels on the circuit, at the restaurants. Nothing is arbitrary, everyone knows everyone’s business. Proof: when we were on our way to a Chinese restaurant on our way back to Tana, Vivi got word that the person who hired him to take Michel and Dani and us to Antsirabe the first time, said he’d stolen his clients, when we never met him prior to the trip which was arranged by Michel and his wife. Funny, funny. At the hotel at the forest, where we stayed in an overpriced bungalow, Deborah threw a fit and told Vivi they couldn’t afford $54,000 ARI, well neither could we. He found lodging with one of the employees. In Antsirabe where we stayed in the roach motel, he stayed somewhere not far in digs which were not optimim: dirty, but okay I guess for the baby.

The stop we’d made before was full. I didn’t understand the arbitrary nature of the trip, like not booking reservations in advance when possible. When we got back to this hotel yesterday evening, the reservation we’d made two weeks ago was not on the books, so we have to move three times between now and January 3, 2012. We are in the upper suites which cost more money, but have less amenities, like space. The ceiling is slanted so I hit my head when I am not careful getting out of the bed.

I have a taste of “bugphobia;” I kept seeing insects last night where there were none. I guess the arbitrary nature of the infestations is what got to me. I am okay with tropical species—I am even tolerant of them as I hope they are of me, since I am the visitor. But when it comes to roaches, the kind I see at home in a luxury apartment hotel, I am like what?! And then bugs, dead bugs under sheets and bug remains raining down on one as she sleeps under the mosquito net that has a hole in it and does not fit the bed—I had to rig it to make it work (smile). Safety pins and bobby pins working side by side—it gets daunting.
Then after telling the driver to drive slowly through the towns he continues to speed and I miss some of the distinctive and unique architecture of the regions we pass through, not to mention the facial distinctions between populations.

When am I coming here again? Madagascar was TaSin’s destination, not mine. I was interested in seeing Reunion Island and the Comoros, but that didn’t happen. The opportunies missed to connect disappoint me. This trip, outside Vivi was so superficial. I am truly a Veza or tourist. When we invited Vivi to join us in the large and spacious bungalow I could see the guide-tourist, Madagasy/Veza protocol at work, when he’d already breached it when he asked if he could bring along the brat and his wife.

I was limited to just one side of the car and they made many stops which were not a part of the itinerary, which was fine with me. I am glad they came otherwise we would not have known nearly as much as we did.

In one town, where we wanted to see the tombs, Vivi asked a guy on a motorcycle where the mayor lived and he was the mayor—how cool can that be—right?! In another when we stopped for breakfast at a Madagasy hotele or restaurant, he mentioned that the governor and I am not sure if he said president, stopped by to get rice pancakes there.

Before we left the hot city, second in the country, the first, Maevatanana, is further north, just 350 km. from Tana, the capital. Deborah bought a chicken at the hotel. They put the bird behind me in the trunk, so I put my backpack next to me. I didn’t want the chicken next to my stuff (smile). Of course, the folks didn’t like that—I could not spread out, while the kid spread out on me—feet, dirty hands, elbows and hands that like to slap and pinch –until he learned the word STOP and that it was dangerous messing when the older Veza (smile).
Found objects like rocks on the seat next to me slid under me—soccer balls next to my feet played tournaments, while the kid who looked like an angel when his eyes were closed slept propped on pillows next to me. It was a really lovely sight, especially when mom and child were asleep at the same time.

Yep. It was interesting, especially when I guess after an especially difficult night in cheap or free digs, Deborah, who is pregnant, needed her sleep and told Vivi to turn off the radio. We never had music in the back after that—days later, it was silent in the back when before the ride was musically interesting if repetitive—the music was programmed on his i-pod.

So they moved the chicken to the other side of the trunk and away went my buffer between me and the brat. Deborah gave the bird away at a hotele where we stopped so they could have lunch—red rice and meat and some kind of drink.

Yesterday morning, 7 a.m. was the highlight of the road trip for me. I have never been in a rainforest and it was cool walking through with Everest and the other guides on the locally maintained forest where we saw the larger lemur, one who is known for its leaps—it doesn’t have a tail. The name sounds like “injury.” I think it is spelled njiry. No internet right now, so I can’t check it.

We encountered an entire family: mom, dad and two kids. Everest told us that the mother or the female is the leader in the community and that she can bear children up to 45 years. In fact, the species is really similar to human beings, in that, it can live up to 70-80 years old. I think the median age is 65 or so. The children are adults at nine and then leave to start their own families. The family has up to three kids at a time and perhaps in their lives only two sets of children, if that many. Both parents take care of the kids.

One of the guides sang to the lemurs and then the forest was filled with their calls. The female’s call is a different pitch than the males. We didn’t hear any female calls. I found it interesting that the lemurs don’t drink water, they eat many varieties of leaves. I think up to 20 or so a day and from their food, they get their water.

We saw the plant TaSin’s hat was woven from, the plant our roofs were made from and many medicinal plants, ones for hypertension, stomach aches, heart trouble. It was pretty cool—this all in the first few steps into the jungle.

I asked about the first Madagasy inhabitants, the forest people—they live in another forest. I wish we could have gone there to meet them and see their lifestyle—how they mourn their dead, celebrate childbirth, puberty and marriage.

When asked where we come from after discovering that we were not Madagasy, especially TaSin, the guides, especially Everest, who taught himself to speak English in eight months, tapes and a book, plus practice with tourists—they would say, you are African.
Everest asked where in Africa we come from. He said the story of the African American is the same as that of the Madagasy. He blamed the French for most of what is wrong with the country, its corruption and political disarray. He is Merina from the northeast, at least, I think that is what he said (smile).

We ran into some Merina folks on our way back when Vivi and wife, stopped to get fresh cassava leaves from the farmers selling along the road. I would hear people give me one price and Vivi another. I’d see them give him more of a product than me—and TaSin would laughingly jam him when he called us his “veza” when speaking to others about us.

We were on the look out for prisons and tombs. I never got into a prison, but we went to many prisons looking for permission. The last one we tried to get into was a men’s prison, but the men were out in the fields the prison official, I guess warden told us. The prisons were in the neighborhood and its administration was a part of the community. I didn’t understand the police system—the border patrols who checked papers, insurance papers. One company NY Havana, I thought mention New York to Havana, Cuba (smile). If one doesn’t have insurance he is in a lot of trouble.

I never saw women driving, not that women cannot drive. I just never saw a woman behind the wheel. The cars are mostly European make: German and British motors. TaSin mentioned that perhaps the women have drivers, like they do in other countries like Mali and in Ghana. Here taxis are high jacked. I couldn’t imagine the distress a family might feel if a woman was out running errands with the kids and never returned home.

While we were in Morondava the owner of the hotel we were staying at—she was mixed race, French and Malagasy, her children, were traveling from the hotel elsewhere and the taxi was taken, one of the drivers killed—I think his throat was cut. They took the women’s luggage and jewelry.
Vivi said there is a system where the taxi drivers are a part of a circuit where they let folks along the route know passengers with wealth are coming. A roadblock is set up—we saw lots of them, usually with police standing guard but last night there were no police there and we kept going. It was along the road, a new road called, The By-pass, built by China. China has sponsored many roads here, and the government, since independence, 1962, has built others.

We maneuvered through one with a lot of holes on our way back from the coast, that was when the brakes were squawking and squealing and the tire kept loosing air. That was when we ended up at the hot hotel—Christmas day 2011. I forgot to mention we dropped by a service and visited the church. No one wanted to come in. We stood in the doorway and listened to the prayers and communion. The church was full.

School is out and so there are no kids to visit. As we travelled kids asked for presents along the way to Antsirabe the first trip with the French couple—former French teachers (16 years). Dani is Vietnamese. Michel called Madagascar a paradise—a literal heaven on earth. I kept thinking of Cuba and how it was once the playground of the rich Europeans. It is the same here, only the government supports their frivolity.

France owns Madagascar, just as to some extent it still has way too much influence in Senegal regarding its development and tourism. I guess I didn’t see this side of the trade, because I didn’t eat at the hotels and didn’t stay in many either my first trip. The second time, it was different. I didn’t notice francophone menus like I do here. There are restaurants run by the French, lot of them. Michel said the reason why the French don’t serve more local cuisine, is because they don’t know how to cook it.

Meet Michel, Director

Michel Boccara, Petit á Petit, ltd productions, is a filmmaker and producer, whose film formed the basis for The Lion King (different title) on Broadway. His voice is that of the slave trader in the film, The Lion King. I thought that was pretty cool. He also used to run the cultural ministry for Madagascar in Tana. The train station is closed now and serves as an arts center where artists have studios and sell their work, crafts and fine arts.

Our first hotel, La Ribaudiere, TaSin booked before we left home on-line. I book the hostel we’re staying at in Melville, Jo-Burg, from Madagascar. It looks like rain, the sky is dark, but it hasn’t started yet. Rain is an event—it blows sideways and one cannot stay dry. It is getting chilly and I am going to have to leave the restaurant and go get a sweatshirt. I have washed clothes and they are hanging on a clothesline TaSin brought from home. Yes, my girl is prepared (smile). I bought soap the last time we went to Shoprite. Everything shuts down at about 5 or 6, sunset, one cannot even find a public toilet and if one is looking for lodging, he or she better have a reservation, otherwise, most reception desks are closed.

Dinner is prepared by request, so one cannot just drop in for dinner, not at the tourist hotels, hotely seem to be open all times of the day or night, but the quality of the grub also depends, along with the cleanliness of the establishment. At one point, Vivi said he his body was with us, but his mind was on autopilot. I could tell the wife and kid and tourists with a car falling apart was getting to him. He left us at an Italian restaurant too long and at the forest park too long as well. His phone had no minutes and he didn’t answer half the time. We amused ourselves at the restaurant, which we’d visited before with Michel and Dani, one wet rainy afternoon. It wasn’t rainy Wednesday, but clouds were gathering in the distance. We visited with a nice shepherd, Rakitonjanahary Augustine, from Hautte ville, Anbatolamoy, in the back of the establishment, which also catered. He was really nice—posing for photos and encouraging us to make ourselves at home. The zebu are so sweet with their wagging tails.

The restaurant had trellises with grapes, lots of green grapes on the porch on the side (I think they are purple when ripe)—a man came along and plucked the few there and ate them (smile). There was also a garden with pineapples. I never saw pineapples on short stalks before. They sit almost ankle high, really cute and not dwarfed at all. There were also banana plants with bunches of green bananas.

The rain has stopped and but the clouds have not cleared. It might or might not be a good time to travel (smile). We are sitting here typing our notes and wishing for Internet which is not working. I feel like switching hotels, but this one is well lit and the service is while not better is just as friendly and one doesn’t encounter the stuffy Frenchman who doesn’t speak English as the one here, who makes himself scarce. In Madagascar, kids learn English in secondary school if they complete high school everyone has a rudimentary grasp of English, even if they don’t have an opportunity to use and it and forget it, just as we do at home, with languages we study but don’t use. The French is necessary for work. It is the money language here. In the most rural areas, folks speak French. The only English is hi, hello, goodbye and maybe please and thankyou. I think that’s pretty good, ‘cause, that’s all I know to in Madagasy: Good Morning, “Manahoana”; Please: :Azafady;” Thank you: “Misotra” (big thanks, or big anything, add: be) “Misotrabe:”—Thanks a lot.

We met this really nice waiter at the first hotel. His introduced himself as Rado.” We were like, sure. No one has a name that short. What’s the realy deal and we got the following name and story.

Rado’s name is: Ralaivao Ange Andriamandimbisoa Rado Martinez. Ralaivao is his sister, brothers, grandparents, in other words, family name. “Ange” means angel. “Andriamandimbisoa” is his late brother’s name. His brother died before him and he carries his brother’s spirit; his brother is reborn through him. “Rado” is his personal name and “Martinez” is the priest who baptized him.

A lot more interesting, right? The “Ra” in the family name indicates his ethnic group too; they are the Merina, one of the larger ethinic groups in the central highlands. I noticed at the Queen’s palace at the museum that a lot of Merinas have led this country politically. “Ra” means “blood.”

I can’t find the receipt with the name of the restaurant where there is the garden and zebu, but here is a partial list of places we stayed and dined:

24/12/2011 1 omeletter aux fine herbs 3500 AR Emilienne in Monondava
27/12/2011 1 escalope de Poulet 9000 AR and Pizza legumes 7500. Total 16.500 Ville Ambatakampy

26/12/2011 Hotel La Maison du Bonheur in Antsirabe Terrain Karmaly (horrible place—great internet)
REEUKA75SGVEX code

22/12/2011: Bengalows-Bar-Restaurant, Chevel de Mer in Nosikely, Monrondava
1 Poulet et legumes + fruit, 9000 AR, 1 eau vive 2500 AR, 1 Fanta 2000 AR. Total 13, 500 AR

24/12/2011: Les Bougainvilliers Bungalow-Restaurant Morondava:
2 nights at 40000 per. Total 80.000 AR

We were here, 4 nights at 20.000 a night. It was 80.000 for the 4 nights. The woman who wrote the receipt couldn’t read French or something. Whatever, it ended up the same price. This place was literally on the beach, really nice.|

I liked this part of the trip the best. Okay, I said I liked the visit to the forest the best, but I liked the visit to the island to see the village where they build the boats, the coconut water and coconut fruit, fresh from the tree—that was nice, especially after the boat ride there. It was a long narrow boat and we were close enough to the water to be able to run our fingers through it. I think what I liked best here was meeting Malagasy Rastas and learning to dance. It’s a combination of the twist and the New Orleans second line dance, mixed in with West African hip rotations—freestyle. There was this brothers who was really good; if I’d stayed in town, I would have danced with him again. He was really fun.

As you dance you go all the way to the floor in a swat and stay there. It’s really fun. Christmas eve., I had on my Rasta Bob Marley t-shirt, pants and a dose of ready to get down—with no where to go (smile). None of my dance partners were at the club, so I didn’t get a chance to dance again.

I haven’t seen any other dance parties since.

28/12/2011: Bezanozano Restaurant, Muramanga-ville
grilled au poulet 8000, galette de poisson 8000, eau vive (water) 3000. Total 19.000.

28/12/2011: Hotel Mikado, Andasibe Hotel-Restaurant
We got a deal and then the guy took it back when it came time to pay. We were like, honor your word. He tore up the receipt and wrote another one reflecting the agreed upon price. People get greedy and don’t realize they are messing up their potential revenue for the future. 4000 AR is just 2 dollars but the place was pretty horrific. . . two horrible places in a row. It’s no wonder I have the creeps.

The dinner was cold the night before and we had to eat with flashlights since we could hardly see our food.

1 assiette vegetarian 6000
1 suplemen de legume 5000
1 bungalows 50.000

total: 61.000 (terrible place. Do not lodge here). Too expensive and not clean enough. I like the hot place the best Christmas weekend. After I cleaned it up it was really nice. No bugs and the décor was pretty, also the host was really nice, he and his relatives, Brice and his cousins. This is the place they shared dinner with us, fish and rice and bought us water.

20/12/2011: Bar Restaurant Razafimamonjy Avenue de l’Indepence, Antsirabe
1 pizza vegetarian 9000
1 poulet aux legumes+ fr 7000
1 eau vive 3000
total: 79.000

24/12/2011: Les Bougainvilliers-Bungalow-Restaurant
2 Frites 2000 (4000)
2 Legumes soutes 1500 (3000)
1 omelette-ou fine 3500 (3500)
Total: 10.500

26/12/2011
1 Poisoon poineau 12.000
1 Quart de poulet 12.000

1 Eau vive 3400
total: 27.400 AR

26/12/2011
1 Quince de poulet 12.000
1 Quart de poulet 12.000
1 eau vive 3000
total: 27.000

This is the place TaSin liked when we visited Antsirabe before. I’d gotten wet and skipped dinner that night. We stayed at the Carmelita which was ant infested (smile). There were cute bunny rabbits in the garden, pheasants and I think tortoises, a regular menagerie.

Everywhere we ate, we were often the only tourists there. Vive and his wife got a free meal. They gave it to Owen, who didn’t like it. The second time we dined there they have red rice and meat. The red rice is really red. I have to try some. Perhaps they will have it here at Niaouly Hotel –Restaurant, Anananarivo.

We have 50.000 AR left, $25 US. Meals are running us $20 a day each, room $20-25 as well. We need to stop eating two meals. I think we got into the habit of eating two meals on the road trip. Vivi would stop for lunch and dinner. We aren’t doing as much now, so the meal requirements will probably lessen. At the first hotel, there was no breakfast available, not real breakfast, more continental—TaSin has a her own stash: breakfast rolls or Danish-like Madagasy style, a fruit flavored drink. I have bananas, sometimes lychee—I just don’t like all the flies they attract. The mangos are the same. Flies love them. I have only had one papaya, no two. It was great.

I bought four kinds of mangos a couple of weeks ago: red, yellow, green, and yellow-orange. The only good ones were the little red ones and the orange/yellow one. The green one was like starch.

I had purple sweet potatoes the other day, at the nice restaurant with the garden. They were so yummy (smile). I also liked the zucchini Vivi fixed with garlic and onions and green beans with home fries. It was our Christmas meal. He really didn’t feel like cooking. He awoke early to a flat tire, had to go fix it. We’d gotten up at 5 AM to leave at 6 AM, we didn’t get out until 9 or 10. I am not sure which, it just meant everything was backed up.

At nightfall, I was starving. I can’t eat much. Deborah’s beans and rice at the hotel on the beach was a sweet memory. Madagasy people like sauce, so there is sauce with every meal, that and rice. She made good rice too. Most of the rice is dry and hard and nasty at the restaurants we’d visited on the road.

8:38 AM; 7:39 PM
We just returned from a walk. We tried a new route to the bottom of the hill where there is a market and a store. On the way down we admired the view-how many ways can one say houses on a hill (smile). Madagascar is hilly and we are at the top of one of them. We saw an Apple store and these cut kids who were clowning for us. We were at the bottom of the stairs and couldn’t do them justice, that is, photographically, so we climbed the hill and took photos up close and then showed them to them.

As we continued our lesuirely walk to the plaza where there is a stature of Madagascar and traffic police, a motorcade came down horns blasting and lights and sirens going—some of the cars looked like our police cars and then there were others that didn’t . I videotaped it. TaSin said she saw and man with a rifle in his lap. The dignitaries were looking out of the windows.
I have it on tape, TaSin on film. I then took photos of all the cops and the police car—green and boxy shaped. I took the photos fast, before they noticed me. TaSin took a photo of a police man directing traffic and he wanted to take her camera. He spoke to her in Madagasy and then in French. She responded in English. He looked at me and I shook my head as in I can’t help you brother (smile). We then quickly moseyed on down the road.

We got great rush hour in Madagascar’s capital shots. There was even a Times Square video screen with music videos and commercials—a younger Mariah Carey sang and girls in music videos danced. It was cool—I can hardly wait until New Years.

We saw some pretty old Madagasy women this evening too—one lady was really wrinkled, while the other two with a bit more melanin perhaps looked equally great. We were told the life expectancy has gone down to about 65-70, maybe younger than that. The medical system is pretty bad, unless you have money. It isn’t that there isn’t healthcare for the poor, its just that the poor don’t get served unless they have money to bribe the doctors. I can’t understand a system that has no oversight—why waste time putting such services in place, if there is no follow through?

The ousted president built a dairy factory that produced milk and eggs, but it stands empty. We passed it in one of our many drives—I forget which one. I think it was when we were leaving town.

As we walked we saw disabled children propped in their chairs or on the sidewalk. We gave them $200 each. It was really sad, but the Madagasy people love their children, so I feel that the money will go to the children’s well being. Funny how when you see kids dating one thinks about sex and babies, since children are seen as wealth, the more the better, so birth control is not practiced much if at all.

I got up to close the door to the restaurant which was blowing cold air on us and someone swiped my chair, that quickly. Funny.
We saw some t-shirts and looked at a few for presents and bought three. The woman couldn’t add or subtract. I had to recalculate the prices for her and then TaSin had to keep sending her back until she got the right change. Two cost $7000 and the third cost $1400, she added wrong and got 38.000 AR instead of 28.000. TaSin gave her 30.000 and she could count 2.000. First she gave her 500 AR and the second time, $1.000. She kept giggling and running back for more change. The man standing near her told TaSin to put up her camera, that someone would come by and grab it off her neck. I flipped my backpack to the front and so did she while in the crowd. We crossed the street on the way back to avoid the traffic cop, if he was still there (smile).

We thought about going to the place where I saw burgers advertised. We weren’t sure if a burger in Madagascar was a sandwich on a croissant. We decided to not try it tonight and settled for the chicken we know. Back at the hotel, TaSin ordered Riz-cantoncus (au zebu). The waiter told her it is filling. It was veggies and rice and eggs and meat. I had Brochettes au poulet with legumes and fritz.

We found two Internet cafes one around the corner and one next door. They both charge two cents a minute. I plan to do my grades in the morning and send a story to Mary for the SF Bay View and post something on my website.

Internet is working!

Happy Kwanzaa! Habari Gani? UMOJA

2011-12-26T10:14:00.000-08:00

Habari Gani?

Monday finds me in Madagascar where no one I have spoken to knows about the Pan African celebration of first fruits or Kwanzaa (smile). We are 12 hours ahead of Pacific time, so it is dark and late right now.

We have been on the road, new city, new hotel--not new, in that we've been in Antsirabe just a couple of weeks before. This new hotel: La Maison du Bonheur, Hotel Chambers Appartements is definitely cooler than where we spent the day and night yesterday.

Christmas Day in Madagascar was a fiasco for the non-Christians, Veza or white people, in our case, "black white people" without food. Our tour guide, Vivi couldn't find anything open, so we went to a few stores to see what we might be able to throw together: Lorna Dones, crackers, sardines and then I saw a lone vegetable vendor, a sister with a hallo--okay bananas and carrots and string beans and squash --looked like zucchini on steroids (smile). There was also tiny garlic cloves and tinnier onions. Oh, I mustn't forget the potatoes.

Vivi made us dinner and it was so delicious--better than the finer traveler restaurants as compared to the local fare in hoteles (Madagasy for restaurant).

Christmas morning we went to a local breakfast eatery where Vivi and his family had rice pancakes and I had a cauliflower one. I have been having my usual trouble finding something to eat--here, the local fare is zébu and fish. Chicken is also common, but the way it is cooked it's really hard to chew it, so I have opted often to just have legumes or veggies.

Vivi's home-fries or fritz (pronounced: freets) were so good. I had had to clean the hotel room a bit before we could get comfortable. There were a lot of dead bugs around, especially in the shower so I took the all purpose soap the proprietor gave me and put in some anti-bacteria from grapefruit seeds and got to scrubbing. I cleaned the sink and the toilet to.
I was so happy all the bugs were dead. It was as if my wish was granted for the one evening: screens and regular pest controls. We had the requisite mosquito net over both beds and a few dead ants inside, but the operative word here is "dead."

It was so hot, we could make tea with our water from the bottle. I think Miandrivazo is the second hottest place in Madagascar. There was going to be a party that evening and the DJs were playing techno TaSin knew from home. There are quite a few remakes of songs or the actual oneo on the local radio stations.

We met a really cool b-boy, brother man had on the bling, double strand rhinestone studded necklace, a big piece of ice in his right earlobe and rings on multiple fingers --all in a setting of silver.

He is Madagasy on his mother's side, with Reunion heritage on his dad's side. He was well traveled and could speak English having studied at a college in Capetown, which he loved. He told us about his travels to France, Paris, which he didn't like much, Germany which he said was the party capital of Europe. He also spoke of Canada, Montreal, as a place he'd like to return to.

He wants to come to California to LA and SF. Where else? He has relatives in most of the places he has visited and was in town this weekend to visit cousins. He and his cousins fixed us fish and rice, which was really nice of them to share their meal with us. They also bought us some water.

Our wakeup call two days in a row, today included was 5 a.m., yes, too early for a vacation. Christmas, Vivi had a flat tire so though we were up early, we didn't get on the road until 10 a.m. By the time we reached the second hottest place where we spent the night, the tire was flat again.

On our way to Monrondava, the coastal city, in Mandivazo, we stopped at another inn, that one lost its electricity just as we arrived and got our room. We had a candle. It was pretty primitive (smile). But hey, that's what Third World country means, right?

Bugs and mosquito nets and laundry by hand and no indoor plumbing? Wrong, what it means is that everyone knows life isn't fair, too many kids and not enough food, fat cats bringing in all the money and government services like free hospitals and free education, is not free for those who need it because like everywhere, bureaucracy breeds corruption, whether we are in Madagascar or the United States.

The 99 percent looks basically the same--well almost (smile).

Today the tire held up and we stopped first at the gold mines. Yes, families were out mining for gold. A gram was $40 US or $80, 000 AR. I have been trying to find cloth with Madagasy sayings on it. I have about five pieces now. I can't remember what each one means. I have to ask Vivi again to read them to me: "no matter how much people talk against you, you do not get angry,' "he loves you the best," "you know how to keep a confidence."

There are similar cloths in Tanzania, which means they are being made elsewhere and sold in these different countries. I wonder if they are made in China? Many of the roads are sponsored by the Chinese government. This afternoon we traveled down a road with lots of potholes, yet even on the worse roads the vistas are so breathtaking one can't help but marvel over the Goddess or God's creation.

This afternoon for lunch we dined at a restaurant in Antsirabe TaSin liked from our first stay here. She had vanilla chicken and I had grilled--of course the entree name was in French. The vegetables were great and I could actually chew the chicken which was cut the way we do at home, thigh and back together. Madagasy cooks are really creative with the way they carve a chicken.

Deborah, Vivi's pregnant wife and now three year old son, Owen, (today is his birthday) are also traveling with us. They are fun. Owen is such a bright kid--speaking in three languages: Madagasy, French and English.

Tonight he wanted to ride the merry-go-round, but his mother didn't like it: too fast for him even if he's with his dad. Owen took a ride in the push-push or man pulled carriage.

Yeah, it's weird, being pulled by a man running with a cart. It reminds me of the Indian system with what they called "coolies." Some people call it slavery.

We were dancing to the Madagasy music, which was nice. Kids and youth sat at tables gambling at a board with numbers on it. Some kids had lots of coins piled up high in front of them. While we were there is started to thunder, lightning streaked across the sky and then the drizzle started.

TaSin and I carry a plastic poncho and raincoat in our pockets or purses. One never knows when it will rain. This afternoon is rained after arrived at the hotel. These downpours can last for a few minutes to even longer. Many times we've gotten drenched, with our rain gear, more often without (smile). We wisk out the plastic when the drizzle signals.

People have come to know the Americans. Can't miss us: I wear a read cloth hat and TaSin has been rocking her Madagasy basket hat. But when one pulls out the camera and our "Salamus" don't have the same accent as the locals, we start getting hit up to purchase other items. In other areas, like the country, kids would ask us for presents.

Vivi's been trying to get me into a prison, a women's prison, but so far we haven't gotten far. Today, we visited a men's prison. The prisons are right in the neighborhood. The men were working in the field today. In Madagascar, mothers keep their children, so the children are in prison too. Often from what I read, the children don’t get enough to eat and as they grow older, if there is no family to receive them outside they are serving time with their moms. One mother had two babies while inside—she was a returning prisoner.

We met the children on an outing at the zoo in Antananarivo, the capital. The woman with the kids said that they take them on outings twice a month or was it twice a week?

Another thing I have been studying are the cemeteries. Yesterday, the prison we visited was across the street from this really big public cemetery. More often, people bury their family on their land, but in the city, where people rent, a lot of time people are buried where they died.

This afternoon after visiting the larger marketplace where we couldn't find hats large enough to fit our heads we went to Chez Joseph, who sells precious stones. It was quite the tour, almost theatrical as we went on a tour from one part of the establishment to another. The cast members told us about the stones from rose quartz, to rubies, to fossilized wood, plants and other gems. There were even tortoises crawling on a bed of precious stones which the establishment gave us an envelope to fill. Then came the sell, which was left to Joseph, the gracious host, who met us at the start of the tour and returned at the end.

He reminded me of the French men one sees on television. I was surprised to learn he was Madagasy--could have fooled me, but then, how many French men do I know?

None (smile).

Now I know why throughout Antsirabe there is so much rose quartz. It literally lines the porches and walkways of many establishments.

Oscar Grant Committee Action

2011-11-27T08:36:00.001-08:00

PACK THE COURTROOM. Carrethers v. Mehserle, civil case for Mehserle beating unarmed Kevin Carrethers, a black man, at the Coliseum BART station 6 weeks before Mehserle killed unarmed Oscar Grant.

Trial resumes on Mon. Nov. 28, 8:30 am, 450 Golden Gate, San Francisco. Judge Chen, courtroom 5, 17th Floor. The trial is expected to last 2 weeks.

15th Anniversary of The Fire Inside

2011-11-24T20:57:00.000-08:00

As co-host, I couldn't take notes like I wanted to, but here are photos from the event, courtesy of Scott Braley. As you can tell, the event was well-attended. The community came out to support our sisters, the formally incarcerated and those still inside whose internal fire remains lit.

Melanie DeMore shared a song with us that spoke to how important it is to stand with someone, even when we can't change her circumstances. It was a beautiful moment singing "I will stand by you . . . " as we watched Melanie hold Patricia Wright's photo in her hand. Slowly, many people in the audience stood until everyone who was able seemed to be on his or her feet.

Melanie came on after Angela Y. Davis's inspiring talk about women in the prison system and how so little has changed for women especially when we look at gender equity and the potential for sexual violence, in addition to racial violence. She spoke about how little attention had been paid to the plight of incarcerated women and what turned her attention to such.

So many people forget that Dr. Davis is a former political prisoner and as a scholar, she brings both a theoretical and practical experience to the discussion on prison abolition. She was proceeded by women who were recently released. It was just so wonderful to see women whom I'd visited when they were behind bars, now free.

It just puts everything in an entirely different perspective. Just as freeways cut up communities and allow citizens to bypass and skirt and skip and ignore entire populations or constituencies, so does prison remove from the public discourse important participants in the national dialogue. If this is a democracy then everyone's voice is important, especially those voices artificially silenced by imprisonment.

It is like a timeout, only we are not children.

This is our house.

Take Patricia Wright, Carletha Stuart, Debbie Peagler's stories and multiply them 1000 times and perhaps the roar will deafen you as the voices we can't hear become audible. This is what The Fire Inside newsletter published by formerly incarcerated and incarcerated women does, it gives these women a platform to speak and get heard. Visit www.womenprisoners.org

Wandas PicksJustice for Patricia WrightMaafaSFBayArea.com 10/28 by Wandas Picks | Blog Talk Radio

2011-11-24T13:47:00.000-08:00

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/wandas-picks/2011/10/28/wandas-picksjustice-for-patricia-wrightmaafasfbayareacom#.Ts66tJ7O0Q0.email

In 1997, Patricia Wright was sentenced to life without parole for a crime she didn’t commit. Now, she’s facing another sentence, one no judge or jury can overturn: Patricia has stage IV breast cancer, and all she wants is to spend the remainder of her days at home, with her family by her side. We are joined by Patricia's younger sister, Arletta Vanessa Wright, daughter Mistey Ramdhan and son, Alfey Ramdhan. For information visit http://sfbayview.com/2011/three-strikes-holds-dying-innocent-woman-behind-bars-justice-for-patricia-wright-and-her-family/

Next we have high school teacher Karla Brundage joining us to talk about a poetry reading organized by one of her senior students, Sabrina for the MAAFA Commemoration POETRY reading Sunday, Oct. 30, 2011, 1:30-2:30 PM at the Oakland Public Library, Brad Walters Community Room, 125 14th Street, on the Madison Street side. This event is being sponsored by the OPL Teen Center.

Director Sam Burbank and a programmer from the San Francisco Film Society join us to talk about Cinema by the Bay, Nov. 3-6, 2011 at New People in Japantown in SF, 1746 Post Street. Sam's film, Where's My Stuff, screens Sat., Oct. 5. Go for the entire day beginning at 2 PM with WeOwnTV: Freetown in the Bay with dir. Banker White.

We close with The Lady Sunrise who has a concert this evening, 7:30 PM (doors open) at The 57th Street Gallery, 5701 Telegraph Ave., Oakland. For reservations visit: www.57thStreetGallery.com

Music: Destiny Muhammad, Rev. Liza Rankow, Lady Sunrise (live).

Photo: Melanie DeMore holding a photo of Patricia Wright at The Fire Inside 15th Anniversary event. Scott Braley, photographer

Patricia Wright Update: Brain Surgery Nov. 21, 2011

2011-11-24T13:21:00.000-08:00

Listen to this interview with Patricia's daughter and son: Wanda's Picks Radio Show Interview October 28, 2011

In 1997, Patricia Wright was sentenced to life without parole for a crime she didn’t commit. Now, she’s facing another sentence, one no judge or jury can overturn: Patricia has stage IV breast cancer, and all she wants is to spend the remainder of her days at home, with her family by her side. We are joined by Patricia's younger sister, Arletta Vanessa Wright, daughter Mistey Ramdhan and son, Alfey Ramdhan.

Address to Write Patricia Wright:

Central California Women's Facility (CCWF)
Attn: Patricia Wright W79941
Skilled Nursing Facility Room 21 Left
P.O. Box 1508
Chowchilla, California 93610
Phone: 559-665-5531

This is from an email from Patricia Wright's sister, Arletta: Update on Patricia Wright

GOOD NEWS IT: 11-23-11, Attorney Csaba had a meeting with Deputy District Attorney George Castello, "as of 11-23-11, the Los Angeles District Attorney has not opposed Patricia Wright's Motion to commute her prison sentence," all the Los Angeles District Attorney and the Presiding Judge want at this point is proof that Patricia has terminal cancer. Patricia's Doctor Malik got Fired, I called his office he said he can no longer write any letters for Patricia, now there is a new doctor on prison staff that has taken over Patricia's medical situation, Attorney Csaba, said when Patricia signs a release giving Attorney Csaba's Private investigator permission to speak with Patricia's doctor the Private Investigator will do a declaration under oath to the Los Angeles Superior Criminal Court verifying that he spoke with Patricia's doctor and the doctor stated that Patricia's condition is terminal. That's all we need at this point going forward, Attorney Csaba is rushing this process along he is a very good attorney, he is thorough.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Patricia Wright had brain surgery 11-21-11, she had three cancerous tumors in her brain, the doctors removed only one tumor off Patricia's brain stem, this is the seventh surgery Patricia has had this year for cancer. 11-21-11, Patricia's doctor put a steel plate in Patricia's head, Patricia was extremely ill last night, Patricia said her head is extremely swollen.

Arletta says: "I am very concerned, Patricia finally called me last night I was so worried I had not heard from her in two days,because the prison keeps surgery dates secret due to security reasons, so prisoner's won't try to seek assistance for prison escapes."

Other Coverage:

1. Channel 7 KABC, Judge Blocks Path Release of Inmate with Terminal Illness October 11, 2011.

2. Channel 4 KNBC Local News, Cancer Striken Inmate Denied Early Release October 11, 2011

3. Channel 2 KCBS and KCAL Channel 9, Families Rallies in LA To have Dying Mother Release from Prison.

4. San Francisco Bay View Story October 10, 2011

5. Son's Story in San Francisco Bay View August 2011

Wanda's Picks Radio Nov. 23, 2011

2011-11-23T00:07:00.000-08:00

We will speak to the directors of Sarabah, Maria Luisa Gambale; and Judy Lieff, dir. Deaf Jam, one live, one prerecorded (smile).

In Lieff's Deaf Jam, Aneta Brodski seizes the day. She is a deaf teen introduced to American Sign Language (ASL) Poetry, who then boldly enters the spoken word slam scene. In a wondrous twist, Aneta, an Israeli immigrant living in the Queens section of New York City, eventually meets Tahani, a hearing Palestinian slam poet. The two women embark on a collaboration-performance duet - creating a new form of slam poetry that speaks to both the hearing and the Deaf.

Sarabah, Hip Hop in West Africa? A woman DJ Sister Fa?

This wonderful film takes its audience on a whirlwind tour as we get trapped in the vortex of Sister Fa's life. We enter the theatre thinking we're here for a concert, after all, the story of the first Senegalese woman DJ is pretty hot, then without missing a beat once we pass go, Sister Fa falls in love, gets married, moves to Germany, has a daugher--we then find out that she is a victim of genital cutting (FGM) as her art becomes a tool for the movement she joins to address and stop this practice which is dangerous and harmful.

Between taping sessions Fa finds her voice once again in a foreign country as she prepares for a tour to change the world for her child and other children like her.

The wonderful footage and deeply personal tale dir. by Maria Luisa Gambale and Gloria Bremertakes this viewer completely by surprise. I kept thinking the film was over as we rounded yet another thematic corner. Sarabah is about an orphaned daughter, her father, the extended family and traditions that we need to let go. "Sarabah," is a daydream, it is the mythical place that Fatou visited as a child when she missed her mother and father and wanted a safe place to retreat. Sister Fa takes her “Education Without Excision,” which uses her music and persuasive powers to end the practice to her own village of Thionck Essyl in 2010 where she receives a wonderful surprise. The film, Sarabah, captures that mystical, magical and scary journey.

Recently Sister Fa won the Freedom To Create main prize in Cape Town, South Africa. She is the first female winner. "SARABAH" was screened the 1st of November at the Move IT! Filmfestival in Dresden, Germany.

The 60 minute film is in English, French, German, Wolof and Diola with English subtitles and premiered at the Mill Valley Film Festival. Visit http://www.sisterfa.com/ & siterfadocumentary.com

Photos: Poets, Anetta & Tahani from DEAF JAM; Sister Fa from SARABAH

Wanda's Picks Radio Nov. 16-18, 2011

2011-11-18T11:12:00.000-08:00

Wandas Picks Radio Show COEXIST the Film Kinyarwanda 11/16 by Wandas Picks | Blog Talk Radio

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/wandas-picks/2011/11/16/wandas-picks-radio-show#.TsayQefx84U.email

We open with an archived interview with Wadada Leo Smith speaking on his project, 10 Freedom Summers which premiered in LA last month. The world premiere of the trumpeter/composer's civil rights opus features the his Golden Quartet and Southwest Chamber Music.

The musicians recorded the project in the days after the premiere for release on Cuneiform in the spring of 2012. The visionary trumpeter and composer delivers his masterwork, a vivid, spiritually charged musical tapestry that celebrates the movement's heroes and the turbulent era's milestones, while also posing philosophical questions about the nature of democracy and equality.

Mishy Lesser, Ed.D. Learning Director and the director, Adam Mazo, Coexist, join us to talk about their film project, Coexist, screening at La Peña Cultural Center in Berkeley, Friday, November 18. 8pm. Tickets are $10 at La Peña Cultural Center, 3105 Shattuck Ave. Berkeley.

Coexist is a new forty-minute documentary by director Adam Mazo about post-genocide Rwanda where a social experiment in forced reconciliation is currently underway. By featuring victims, perpetrators, and supporters of genocide, as well as social commentators, government officials, and a U.S. scholar of Rwanda, the film lays bare the complexities of forgiveness and reconciliation. Viewers will meet Rwandan victims who choose to forgive and others who do not, and can decide for themselves if perpetrators are sincerely remorseful and whether they believe coexistence is possible for all Rwandans.

We close with an interview with Alrick Brown, director, Kinyarwanda. We also feature a short interview with a member of: OCCUPY LA, opening music is by Wadada Leo Smith.

Wandas Picks I AM AMERICA Black Geneology UMOJA Band 11/18 by Wandas Picks | Blog Talk Radio

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/wandas-picks/2011/11/18/wandas-picks#.Tsa0FxDFV7Q.email

Kheven Lee LaGrone, curator, I Am America: Black Genealogy Through the Eye of An Artist, November 5, 2011 through February 2, 2012 at the San Francisco’s Main Public Library’s African American Center.

A genealogists/artists reception will take place on Sunday, November 20, 2011 from 1 pm to 2 pm. A program follows from 2 pm to 3 pm in the Latino Hispanic Room.

Participating artists: Alice Beasley (quiltmaker); Inez Brown (mixed media); Karen Oyekanmi (doll maker); Makeda Rashidi (painter); Malik Seneferu (painter); Marion Coleman (quiltmaker); Morrie Turner (cartoonist); Nate Creekmore (cartoonist); Nena St. Louis (sculptor); Nicka Smith (mixed media); Orlonda Uffre (painter); TaSin Sabir (mixed media); Tomye (mixed media)

We close with a conversation with members of Umoja: Damu Sudi Alii (piano) and Muhammad Bilal Hanif (alto & soprano saxophones): Dance of the Kalahari: In Memorium Concert.at the 57th Street Gallery, in Oakland, Sunday, Nov. 20, 2011, 2-5:30 PM, featuring besides Damu & M.B. Hanif, Larry Douglas (trumpet & flugelhorn), Mali Vincent Williams (bass), Willie G (vocals) and others.

The ensemble is honoring the memory of founding members: Kennth Byrd (flutist) & Kamau Seitu (drums). There will be free food at the event. Admission is $10.00 per person. Music featured: Umoja: Blessings & Dance of the Kalahari; Rene Marie's Lift Ev'ry Voice.

An archived interview with Lavinia Currier, OKA director, opens the show. She speaks about her latest film, in theatres Oct. 28, 2011. OKA is the story of the Bayaka people in Central West Africa and an ethnomusicologist Larry Whitmore, who falls in love with the people and culture. Visit http://okamovie.com/

Pity the Proud Ones at the Robey Theatre at the Los Angeles Theatre CenterNov. 11-13, 2011

2011-11-11T14:50:00.000-08:00

Darrell Philip (Martin O'Grady) up close and personal with Dorian Christian Baucum (James Perez) photo:Adenrele Ojo

The first weekend in November found me dashing to Los Angeles to say goodbye to a dear friend who was transitioning from one leg of his soul journey to another, one those of us bound by gravity could not follow. Jet-lagged and fighting a cold, I made it, the farewells neatly tucked into Jamal's pocket as he bid us farewell Friday afternoon.

Saturday morning after a special broadcast of my radio show seated at a table in a noisy cafe at USC, my mother and I headed for the Pacific Ocean.

The water was calling me, and so we drove to a beach not far from LAX. Planes were so close we could almost see the passengers (just kidding). The weather was lovely and my mother took off her shoes and waded as I hung out with the shore birds who were enjoyed a late morning snack.

The tide was out and seaweed covered the relatively quiet terrain. I thought of Jamal Ali, who loved the water and always found himself near an ocean if he could at all help it.

LA for me was Mama and Jamal, California African American Museum and Robey Theatre, so while at the hospital a friend whom I'd last seen two years ago at a Robey matinee, S. Pearl Sharpe, told me she'd had tickets for Saturday and had just called and cancelled them. She didn't know the name of the play, but like me, it didn't matter, if it was at Ben's theatre it was a black story and it was good (smile). I immediately called for tickets and was so happy when I arrived early the next day to find a reservation in my name.

We detoured at Occupy LA, the only Occupation supported by a municipality in the nation. I spoke to Melissa who was giving an interview when I walked up and asked her about the site. People were lined up for dinner. It was a celebration of sorts, lots of spaghetti and baked bread and dessert. Earlier marijuana was dropped off to the dismay of the police parked nearby, but they worked it out Melissa said.

Earlier that day, after the meditation on the beach, Mama and I went over to CAAM where I checked out Places of Validation, Art, and Progression,part of Los Angeles's Pacific Standard Time: ART In LA 1945-1980. That afternoon, Dr. Samella Lewis was giving a talk! Yes, that Dr. Lewis, the woman who almost single-highhandedly took it upon herself to give black artists public access or venues to network with other black artists and places to show their work, whether that was through publications she started or galleries she opened or books she wrote. I couldn't believe my good fortune. And then I found out that her grandson, Unity, and my younger daughter, TaSin Yasmin Sabir, went to school together, The California College of Arts and Crafts. The two of them started Black Artists and Designers or BAAD, a student organization for Pan African undergraduates and graduate students. Visit camuseum.org

Both the director, Ben Guillory and the playwright, Kurt Dana Maxey, were present that night at the Los Angeles Theatre Center, 514 S. Spring Street, and agreed to be on my show today, closing weekend. Pity the Proud Ones looks at slavery's impact on a family, and the secrets and lies parents keep to themselves for many reasons.

Perhaps in this story Martin O'Grady (actor Darrell Philip) is ashamed of his past, which is why he doesn't tell his son, James Perez (actor Dorian Christian Baucum) who he is, that he was once a slave. O'Grady is looking for his son to pay a debt; Perez is looking to collect and he does, more than he bargained for, but certainly what he needed.

It is a stormy play. The chaos sets the world at kilter, the hour glasses break and time stops as the characters all claw their way up from the manacles and debris, waste and refuse they'd grown too fond of especially Ella Mae McDonald (Staci Mitchell) and O'Grady.

James Perez, O'Grady's son, refuses to feed from the bottom and this pride costs him. His is a righteousness one admires, as is Elizabeth Marie's (actress Caroline Morahan), the woman he loves, who works as a bookkeeper at a brothel, Ella Mae's brothel, Ella Mae Irish like O'Grady.

The other character is Pettigrew (actor Ben Jurand) who is a military veteran who learns early on to fight smart and live when he almost loses his life. He is a proud man who is content to use others to get back at the white men, the small white men who don't realize his power. He runs the town from behind his bar stool. He is the first person O'Grady meets when he comes to town. He is also the only character who lives above the chaos--the audience's peer. We can look into his eyes.

The relationships in Pity crisscross so much, it is almost incestuous. Is this indicative of small towns or small people? Hum. To travel from Barbados to Florida and speak of other places like New Orleans yet allow one's world to shrink in on itself where the air is almost gone. . . this is what we see happening on stage as the storm crashes outside and we all fear for our lives.

At Pity's center is the story of a father and son at odds because of lies and deceit. The dad hides his shame in drunkenness--his acts too barbaric and horrific for him to bear sober for long.

The Irish were enslaved on the island of Barbados along with Africans, eventually becoming a commodity of choice when it was cheaper or more cost effective to enslave an Irishman instead of the more expensive African. During the 1600s the British government made a bundle from this free labor as Irish joined the Africans either as kidnapped nationals who refused to surrender land to Oliver Cromwell or military prisoners. Like Africans these "barbadosed" Irish and white indentured servants to British planters were often enslaved for life.

The playwright states in program notes that the number of Barbadosed Irish is not known and varies between a "high of 60,000 to a low of 12,000. Both groups suffered harsh treatment and banned together to revolt against the British," yet in the 1880s census not a mention shows up of the Irish Barbadians. What happened to them?

Pity the Proud Ones is such a story . . . that is, the story of the ever after, if not happily. . . . O'Grady's clan sets out to rewrite their history complete with a forged family crest and an anglicized version of their name. It is easier for an enslaved white person to pass as a freeman than an African, yet freedom is more than a crest or literacy. Freedom is an attitude which O'Grady lacks. The British saw no difference between the Irish and African, both were savage, both were seen as property, both had no rights as human beings.

In Barbados there were French and Spanish pirates who raided the island colony, and if that wasn't enough, the weather was not hospitable to agrarian living--"decimating crops and morale, stirring the seeds of revolt and revolution among Africans and Irish allies."

Pity the Proud Ones is set in this turmoil--the storm raging within O'Grady and his son James. The two weather systems meet at the brothel and the ensuing storm breaks windows, decapitates homes and sends buggies rushing to their makers.

Maxey leaves much unsaid and unresolved when the storm ends, O'Grady bleeding but not dead, the truth lying on the floor between he and his son, alive, but barely breathing. Seated above the set, the audience looks down or in on a sketch or sliver of a story, one of many past and many to come and like most of life, if we don't get it when it happens and perhaps never fully comprehend all of its nuances, we can hope the sip at the well will make the next chapter a bit easier to swallow.

That's all one can hope for and I guess in Pity the Proud Ones, so that's what we get. Visit robeytheatrecompany.com

Wanda's Picks Week of Nov. 7-12, 2011

2011-11-11T14:13:00.000-08:00

WandasPicks with Jouvanca Jean-Baptiste; Susan Heyward 11/09 by Wandas Picks | Blog Talk Radio http://www.blogtalkradio.com/wandas-picks/2011/11/09/wandas-picks-radio-show#.Tr2QUlaelOg.email

During her second year as a member of the resident artist company, Jouvanca Jean-Baptiste performs the roles of Nedda (Pagliacci), Violetta (La traviata) and Marguerite (Faust.) The Haitian-born soprano joined OSJ’s resident company during the 2010 – 2011 season, debuting in the title roles of Anna Karenina and Tosca and as Mimì in La bohème.

Ms. Jean-Baptiste recently made her main stage debut with Florida Grand Opera in the role of The Abbess in Suor Angelica. Previously, she sang with West Bay Opera, understudying the role of Cio-cio-san in Madama Butterfly. Other roles in the soprano’s repertoire include Suor Angelica (Suor Angelica), Mother (Amahl and the Night Visitors) and Miss Rose (Lakmé).

Oneika Phillips (Sandra U/S, Ensemble) From Grenada, West Indies, Oneika holds dual degrees in Dance Performance and Business Management from Shenandoah University, Virginia. Formerly a featured member of Abdel Salaama’s Forces of Nature Dance Theatre, Oneika's theatre credits include the workshop, FELA! A New Musical, “Anita” in the 50th Anniversary International Tour of Jerome Robbins’s West Side Story, directed by Joey McKneely and nominated for The West End's Olivier Award for Best Musical Revival, winning the Theatergoer’s Choice Award in the same category. Oneika is thrilled to return home to the shrine with the FELA! family for her Broadway debut. Oneika couldn't join us this morning. We'll speak with her on Friday morning.

We play an encore interview with Susan Heyward, ACT SF's production of David Mamet's RACE through Nov. 13, 2011.

WandasPicksDavid Murray CubanEnsemble Plays Nat King Cole 11/10 by Wandas Picks | Blog Talk Radio http://www.blogtalkradio.com/wandas-picks/2011/11/11/wandas-picks-special-david-murray-cuban-ensemble-plays-na#.Tr2Om9cFjhI.email

For many enthusiasts, David Murray Cuban Ensemble "Plays Nat King Cole" is in town this week with this new ensemble, Friday-Sunday, Nov. 11-13, 2011 at Yoshi's San Francisco, CA. He is already a jazz legend, if we look at the number of albums he has recorded, of concerts he has performed and at the number of awards with which his career to date has already been crowned (Grammy Award, Guggenheim Fellowship, Bird Award, Danish Jazz Bar Prize, musician of the 80’s by the Village Voice…). However, just over a quarter of a century into his career, his music still expresses the verve and inspiration of youth, throughout a career which is prolific as much in terms of output as in terms of musical orientation (from the World Saxophone Quartet, of which he is one of the founders, to his octet, not forgetting his big band and the encounter with the Gwo Ka Masters of Guadeloupe, amongst many other groups and creations), all of it with the greatest musicians. David Murray goes down as a worthy successor for some of the biggest names in jazz, and he is now contributing to the rise of young talents such as Lafayette Gilchrist, a young pianist who has already been widely acclaimed by the critics. Music: "Cachito," "A Media Luz," "Black Nat" from En español!

Wandas Picks Theatre of War Kalakuta FELA Robey Theatre 11/11 by Wandas Picks | Blog Talk Radio http://www.blogtalkradio.com/wandas-picks/2011/11/11/wandas-picks#.Tr15X2Nt3V0.email

Timothy Hull, an A.C.T. Master of Fine Arts Program grad who has been deployed to Iraq, speaks about Theatre of War Productions in Collaboration with A.C.T., USF this weekend: Sunday, Nov.13-14, 2011, 7 PM both days at University of San Francisco's Presentation Theater, 2350 Turk Blvd., San Francisco, CA. Reservations are recommended: 415.749.2228 or act-sf.org

KALAKUTA @ Oasis Restaurant & Bar, Sat., Nov. 12, 2011 at 135 12th Street Oakland, CA from 9:00 PM - 2:00 AM, $10 before 11pm $15 after features: Wunmi World! afro-funk : afro-beat : house : soul : afro-couture: In the world of dance music, Wunmi is a one-off, an artist that effortlessly joins the dots between Nigeria’s Afrobeat heritage, New York’s house pedigree and London’s jazz, broken beat and classic street soul sounds.

After ten years of classic collaborations working with production heavyweights like Masters At Work, Osunlade, Seiji and Truby Trio; Wunmi is finally flying solo with her acclaimed debut album, entitled A.L.A Born in London, Wunmi aka Ibiwunmi Omotayo Olufunke Felicity Olaiya lived in Nigeria for 10 years, returning to the UK at age 14. http://www.wunmi.com/

Robey Theatre Director, Ben Guillory & Playwright, Kurt Dana Maxey whose Pity the Proud Ones continues Friday-Sunday, Nov. 11-13 at LA Theatre Center www.thelatc.org

We close with cast from FELA! Adesola Osakalumi (Fela Anikulapo-Kuti Alternate), Nicole Chantal de Weever(Ensemble) & Oneika Phillips(Sandra U/S, Ensemble) who open at the Curran Theatre Tuesday, Nov. 15, 2011, 8 PM, continuing through Dec. 11, 2011, in San Francisco.

Jamal Ali Joins the Ancestors

2011-11-05T10:26:00.000-07:00

My friend, writer, scholar, poet, Jamal Ali, joined the ancestors yesterday evening surrounded by family and friends in Glendale, CA. He is the author of the Heartfire-Rendezvous-Trilogy. Visit http://heartfirerendezvous.wordpress.com/

Wanda's Picks November 4-5, 2011

2011-11-05T10:07:00.000-07:00

Friday, Nov. 4, 2011, 8:30 AM

As a singer, RACHELLE FERRELL is a quintuple threat: Besides having success as a jazz singer, she is also well respected in the R&B, pop, gospel, and classical music genres as well. Known for her six octave range, Ferrell is also an accomplished pianist who has worked with Lou Rawls, Patti LaBelle, Vanessa Williams, and George Duke. For tickets call (800) 380-3095 or www.TheRrazzRoom.com

David Mamet's RACE at ACT-SF through Nov. 13, 2011 features SUSAN HEYWARD as "Susan," whose credits include: in New York: Ruined (Manhattan Theatre Club), Nathan the Wise and The Oedipus Cycle (The Pearl Theatre Company), I Have Before Me a Remarkable Document Given to Me by a Young Lady from Rwanda (The Phoenix Ensemble), and The Snow Queen (Urban Stages), as well as readings at The Public Theater and Red Bull Theater. Regional credits include Sabrina Fair (Ford’s Theatre), The Master Builder (Yale Repertory Theatre), You Can’t Take It with You (Peterborough Players), and numerous plays with the American Shakespeare Center, including, Romeo and Juliet, Antony and Cleopatra, The Winter’s Tale, The Tempest, Othello, Hamlet, Pericles, and As You Like It. Film and television credits include Ma’George, The Big Date, Oedipus, Revelations, 30 Rock, Law & Order, and Michael and Michael Have Issues. She received her training at Carnegie Mellon University and the Moscow Art Theatre School of Acting.

Special Broadcast, Nov. 5, 2011 9:00 AM PT

On Friday, Nov. 4, 2011, I was unable to broadcast these two interviews, with Banker White, director or WeOwnTV, debuting at Cinema by the Bay, 2 PM, Saturday, Nov. 5, 2011 or the interview with Naima and Fanta, who speak about the fundraiser, HAITI RISING, A benefit for Ayiti Resurrect, Sunday November 6, 2011, 4-9:00 p.m. @ The NeXus @ United Earth Networks, 1414 Harbour Way South, Suite #1010, Marina Bay, Richmond, CA 94804.

WeOwnTV: Freetown in the Bay, Dir. Banker White, Black Nature, Saturday, November 5, 2:00 pm, SF Film Society | New People Cinema on Post Street in San Francisco. When San Francisco-based filmmaker Banker White made Sierra Leone's Refugee All Stars (2005), a documentary about six musicians who form a band while living in a refugee camp in Guinea, he made the extraordinary decision to try to help others in Freetown by developing a collaborative media project with other Sierra Leoneans. This program will present a series of the considerable array of styles, such as newscasts, art films and traditional tales now being produced by WeOwnTV in Sierra Leone.

On Fete Gede, the night of Festival of the Ancestors (Haitian Day of the Dead), we will gather to honor those who passed in the earthquake and all celebrate the resilience, survival and self-determination of our Haitian family.

An inspiring array of artists from coast to coast with bloodlines in the Haitian Diaspora across the globe are coming together at HAITI RISING to being a powerful offering to Spirit, and to support the collaborative healing work Ayiti Ressurect is engaged in Leogane, Comier, Haiti. Get over any hesitation about going to Richmond on Sunday night, to this post-industrial temple filled with magical sculptures and creative sanctuary. We will be drunk on the synergy of poetry choreographed to movement, medicine distilled from song, music carved from the hollow spaces transformation creates in our lives.

HAITI RISING
A benefit for Ayiti Resurrect
Sunday November 6, 2011, 4-9:00 p.m.
The NeXus @ United Earth Networks
1414 Harbour Way South, Suite #1010
Marina Bay, Richmond, CA 94804

Wanda's Picks Radio Show, Friday, Oct. 28, 2011

2011-10-28T10:39:00.000-07:00

In 1997, Patricia Wright was sentenced to life without parole for a crime she didn’t commit. Now, she’s facing another sentence, one no judge or jury can overturn: Patricia has stage IV breast cancer, and all she wants is to spend the remainder of her days at home, with her family by her side. We are joined by Patricia's younger sister, Arletta Vanessa Wright, daughter Mistey Ramdhan and son, Alfey Ramdhan. For information visit http://sfbayview.com/2011/three-strikes-holds-dying-innocent-woman-behind-bars-justice-for-patricia-wright-and-her-family/

Next we have high school teacher Karla Brundage joining us to talk about a poetry reading organized by one of her senior students, Sabrina for the MAAFA Commemoration POETRY reading Sunday, Oct. 30, 2011, 1:30-2:30 PM at the Oakland Public Library, Brad Walters Community Room, 125 14th Street, on the Madison Street side. This event is being sponsored by the OPL Teen Center.

Director Sam Burbank and a programmer from the San Francisco Film Society join us to talk about Cinema by the Bay, Nov. 3-6, 2011 at New People in Japantown in SF, 1746 Post Street. Sam's film, Where's My Stuff, screens Sat., Oct. 5. Go for the entire day beginning at 2 PM with WeOwnTV: Freetown in the Bay with dir. Banker White.

We close with The Lady Sunrise who has a concert this evening, 7:30 PM (doors open) at The 57th Street Gallery, 5701 Telegraph Ave., Oakland. For reservations visit: www.57thStreetGallery.com Music: Destiny Muhammad, Rev. Liza Rankow, Lady Sunrise (live).

Post Afric Highways presents: Untitled Script for MAAFA Oct. 21-22, 2011

2011-10-21T23:33:00.001-07:00

Robert Henry Johnson’s new play is Euphrates deep. I don’t know if the Euphrates is deep except that it is old and ancient, old as in wise, deep, having depth. The analogy has a ring to it I like. The play, "Untitled Script for Maafa," is not for children—unless the child is an old soul. Many adults shut down before the first act tonight. Some nodded in this seats, others politely excused themselves (smile).

The beginning is just a prologue, the story starts long before the older mermaid or Mami Wati passes the torch to the younger woman, who in sea creature days at 200+ is a youth. She has to visit a memory yard to pick up a train of thought lost long ago or tossed away even earlier than that. Ignorance is not bliss, but not having active memories makes life a lot less complicated, at least that's what our protagonist thinks.

Life on the Atlantic floor is not conducive to intellectual development circa 1756. The opposite is true. It seems to be a place where creatures arrive broken and stay that way into the next century and the next and the next until we run into each other(ancestors meet your descendents).

The protagonist lives in a glass house without a door. A shark is in love with her and though he tries to change, he can’t help eating Africans, whose carcasses he leaves at her doorstep wondering what she sees in them that he lacks.

Robert plays with so many themes here . . . the cast a chorus and bridge and a nation. So much life and history to squeeze between two hours—

We didn’t make it. The African American Art and Culture Complex closed and so did the play. . . I will return tomorrow at 2 PM when the cast will perform again, this time to the work's conclusion. One actress told me there was a half hour left.

When the play ended, a chief who’d sold Africans to their death found himself at the bottom of the ocean as well—he’d cleared the sharks—a pariah, he wishes for death, but it eludes him, his dreams nightmares. He tries to negotiate a deal with Mami Wata who is the custodian of the deep.

I found it interesting how over time the Africans in the ocean became less human and more fish until they were completely transformed, unrecognizable.

Negroes are not African. Blacks are not either. So who are we?

The character who intrigued me the most was one who arrived without a head. He rides a tortoise named Pegasus, who carries the headless body--the two looking and inquiring for its head, without any luck. Pegasus complains he is getting old and wants to stop roaming, yet what will become of his passenger and friend if he stops, so he keeps on looking and asking.

The body without a head can’t return home—too embarrassing one character says, yet even those with their heads severed can’t return, because they have lost their memories –they no longer know who they are.

One character asks us to define him, to name him. How is that possible when we can't answer the question regarding ourselves? He is just one of many lens Robert turns outward as characters explore these questions internally.

These people who by some twist of fate, miss sharks' teeth and arrive safely, no longer have a language . . . they arrive with so much less than when they first left home.

A child asks to go home. She is told she can't return.

Is this glass house a metaphor for the fragility of black lives in the Diaspora? We are seen as superhuman, but perhaps this heroism is costly, its cost our souls?

Robert connects the greed that landed millions of Africans in the West –bones charting the journey below, to the greed that continues to push the agenda of those descendants of those Europeans whose greed disrupted the lives of so many 150 odd years later.

Dr. Derethia Du Val, one of the panelists who spoke this evening, said that Africa has the largest land mass yet has fewer people than the other continents comparatively; this population deficit is linked to human trafficking--30-60 million people kidnapped, sold, stolen and enslaved.

After the Prologue: The Glass House Monologues (present), is the Second Prologue: The Disappearance of Gentle Prologues (almost 300 years later), Act 1: Members of Collective Memory (That evening), Act 11: Ipos's Heart (A week later). We didn't get to Act 11.

The AAACC is located at 762 Fulton Street, San Francisco. Visit www.maafasfbayarea.com and www.pahwebstarts.com

Wanda's Picks Radio Show

2011-10-21T08:59:00.001-07:00

We honor the memory of Mamakye or Dolores Mae Dixon, who is making her ascension (Jan. 20, 1937-Oct. 16, 2011).

Wadada Leo Smith blesses the show with a fabulous interview and conversation about his latest opus: 10 Freedom Summers debuting Oct. 28-30, 2011 at the REDCAT Theatre in the Walt Disney Concert Hall Complex. Visit www.redcat.org or call (213) 237-2800. We feature music from his CD: The Blue Mountain's Sun Drummer which features Smith and Ed Blackwell on drums and percussion. For those in the area support the fundraiser for Robert Jones and the Lyphedema Foundation by having a meal at Fresh Choice, Sat., Oct. 22 and Oct. 29, 2011, 11 AM to 9 PM. For a coupon and information about Robert call: (510) 253-8120 or email Marcus Gary, qigong4life@gmail.com

Oh, and don't forget Maafa Commemoration Month activities continue. Tonight is Post-Afric Highways' play at the Sargent Johnson Gallery, 762 Fulton Street. Friday, Oct. 21, reception at 6 PM, reading at 7 PM. Sat., Oct. 22, play at 2 PM Bring the entire family out. It is a free event. Next week is a film, Traces of the Trade with the producer, Juanita Brown, and youth sharing poetry inspired by the Black Holocaust. The event is, Sun., Oct. 30, 1-4 PM at the Oakland Main Library, 14th and Madison. Visit www.maafasfbayarea.com

Hunger Strike Haulted July 20, 2011 at Pelican Bay is Back on Again Sept. 26, 2011

2011-09-26T06:22:00.000-07:00

After temporarily calling a cessation to the hunger strike for justice in the Security Housing Units or SHU at Pelican Bay State Prison, the strike is starting again today, Sept. 26. Inmates are asked to refuse state issued food. The reason for the strike has to do with the inhumane treatment inmates are subjected to such as sensory deprivation, denial of personal items like photographs of loved ones and books, plus the extended time in the SHU, solitary confinement and the gang validation rule that says in order to leave the SHU an inmate has to implicate other inmates.

July 20, 2011 the strike was called off temporarily so that inmates could regroup and regain their strength; it was also stopped to see what the outcome would be to the public hearing hosted by State Senator Tom Ammiano in August where CDCR representatives addressed the prisoners' five basic demands.

I attended the hearing and these demands were not met; rather the CDCR representative stated they were being studied. According to the warden at Pelican Bay, anyone in the general population joining the fast will be sent to the SHU and denied what few privileges he already has. The warden also said he was taking this strike as a major insurrection and would be harsh in his discipline.

One of the panelists at the State Senate Hearing on Security Housing Units, Charles Carbone, an inmate rights attorney,stated that he'd wait to see what the CDCR planned to implement re: inmate demands; however, it is easy to say this from the outside: "We have to understand these guys have been waiting for decades. Their patience has understandably run out.”

For information about the strike visit: http://prisonerhungerstrikesolidarity.wordpress.com/

Other articles: http://californiawatch.org/dailyreport/high-security-prisoners-start-hunger-strike-11157

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/09/23/pelican-bay-hunger-strike_n_978598.html?ref=fb&src=sp&comm_ref=false

Public Safety | Daily Report
Inmates vow to resume hunger strike
September 23, 2011 | Michael Montgomery

Juan M Casillas/Flickr

Corrections officials are taking security precautions and gearing up medical staff in response to growing indications that inmates at Pelican Bay State Prison will resume a hunger strike that was suspended July 20.

Strike leaders are calling on state inmates to begin refusing state-issued food Monday to protest conditions in controversial Security Housing Units, according to handwritten letters, Internet postings, and communications with lawyers and advocates.

“Formal and informal sources say they’re going to start the strike again," said Dorsey Nunn, executive director of Legal Services for Prisoners with Children, an advocacy group that was involved in mediation efforts during the last hunger strike. "They’re tired of being tortured.”

In a statement posted on an advocacy website, strike leaders accused officials from the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation of reneging on promises for major changes in how they manage the state’s four Security Housing Units, the isolation cells that were at the center of the previous strike.

“CDCR has responded with more propaganda, lies and vague double-talk of promises of change in time," the statement reads. "SHU prisoners are dissatisfied with CDCR’s response to their formal complaint and … core demands and therefore will continue to resist via peaceful protest indefinitely, until actual changes are implemented.”

Department officials have agreed to allow personal items for Security Housing Unit inmates that were previously banned, such as sweats, wall calendars and art supplies. And they say new policy guidelines governing the special units will be ready for stakeholder review next month.

An internal memo dated Aug. 25 outlines key elements of the policy overhaul, including changes in how inmates are identified, or validated, as gang members and associates; changes in the criteria used to determine how inmates are assigned to a Security Housing Unit; and the creation of a “step-down” program that would allow an inmate transfer to a general population yard without having to “debrief,” something many inmates consider snitching.

Corrections Undersecretary Scott Kernan said the department has kept its word and will continue the policy makeover even if the inmates launch a new hunger strike. Kernan had sharp words for many of the strike leaders, whom he accused of being "manipulative" gang leaders.

“Unlike in the first instance where we certainly evaluated their concerns and thought there was some merit to it, this instance appears to be more manipulative, and it certainly has the possibility of being a real disruption to the Department of Corrections and the security of its staff and inmates,” he said.

Kernan said officials will treat any new hunger strike as a “mass disturbance” and will take disciplinary action against anyone who takes part. That could include ending commissary privileges and imposing six-month terms in the Security Housing Units for general population inmates who join the action.

Advocacy groups pledged to continue to support the inmates in their demands for change. But some prominent advocates say strike leaders should hold off on another action until the department releases more details on its policy changes.

“If I were the prisoners … I would wait,” said Charles Carbone, an inmate rights attorney who has handled dozens of lawsuits against the corrections department. “But we have to understand these guys have been waiting for decades. Their patience has understandably run out.”

Visit http://californiawatch.org/dailyreport/inmates-vow-resume-hunger-strike-12739

Spilling the Beans, for Minnijean, by Rafael Jesús González 2010

2011-09-25T03:17:00.000-07:00

Minniejean Brown-Trickey & Rafael Jesús González
Las Vegas, New Mexico, January 1910

If truth be told
it's all about
spilling the beans -
whether it's from a tray let go
in the school lunch room
or telling it like it is
from the podium.
It's speaking truth -
whether to power
or to the powerless;
it's blowing the whistle
when the whistle needs blowing.
More often than not
it's about courage -
a heart grown too big
with outrage
or compassion,
more often than not
a heart grown big
with compassion outraged
until it explodes
spilling the beans.

© Rafael Jesús González 2010

On this day in 1957, 1,000 troops secured Little Rock Central High, allowing nine black students to enter and attend school. It was a historic day in the Civil Rights movement not because it was the first school to desegregate, but because it was the first time federal intervention was used to do so.

When the Supreme Court struck down the "separate but equal" doctrine in 1954, banning segregated public schools, it left up to individual states and communities the issue of how and when integration would proceed. Little Rock had approved a gradual approach; the high school would integrate first, then the middle schools, then elementary. But when the time came for black students to enroll in Central High, Arkansas Governor Orval Faubus reneged on the deal, surrounding the school with National Guard troops on the first day of the year to protect people, he claimed, from the caravans of protestors on their way to Little Rock. In fact, the Guard denied entrance to the nine black students who attempted to enroll as a crowd of about 300 people gathered. Within days, the spectacle was over, but the Guard remained, napping on the school's lawn and reading newspapers to pass the time. The approach that Southern moderates like William Faulkner had preached was quickly turning from "go slow" into "don't go."

More than two weeks passed before a federal injunction withdrew the National Guard from the school. When Little Rock police officers escorted the nine black students into school on the morning of September 23, crowds of protestors outside became so menacing that administrators had the students slip out a side entrance before noon.
And so two days later, President Eisenhower ordered the Screaming Eagles 101st Airborne Division stationed in Kentucky to escort the nine black students back in - and ensure they were able to stay. By then, the national media attention on Little Rock had become intense, drawing massive crowds - although, as the school newspaper reminded students, the protestors represented less than 1 percent of the town's population.

Of the "Little Rock Nine," as the black students became known, only three graduated from Central High. Five finished their education elsewhere; one was expelled for responding to the constant harassments of her classmates, once by overturning a bowl of chili on a tormentor. (The bullies went largely unpunished.) All nine credited their parents for encouraging them to enroll - and attend class - despite intense scrutiny and racism.

On this day in 1789, the First Federal Congress of the United States proposed 12 amendments to the recently ratified Constitution. Ten of them were ultimately adopted to become what's known as the Bill of Rights.

The amendments were the result of a major compromise between opposing factions, the Federalists - who thought the Constitution was a sound and sufficient document - and the Anti-Federalists, who worried that it gave far too much power to the central government and didn't protect individual freedoms. The two sides were at an impasse, and the Constitution was at risk of being rejected, until an agreement was reached that, if the Constitution was ratified, Congress would add on a bill of rights. The Federalists believed the addition was unnecessary, and the anti-Federalists believed it wasn't enough ... but both sides conceded for the sake of the common good.

The first two amendments, concerning the number of constituents and the payment for Congressmen, were rejected. The other 10, each a single sentence, provided for such rights as the freedom of speech and religion, the right to bear arms, the right to a speedy trial by jury without cruel or unusual punishment, and the right of states to govern themselves in any way not expressly prohibited by the Constitution.
An additional 17 amendments have been added to the Constitution since then. The most recent one, passed in 1992, was that second article proposed and rejected back in 1789, delaying any change to Congress's pay until the following session. The very first article proposed is still pending before state legislatures.

As the anonymous saying goes, "Democracy is cumbersome, slow and inefficient, but in due time, the voice of the people will be heard and their latent wisdom will prevail."

© 2011 American Public Media
480 Cedar Street, Saint Paul, MN 55101
USA

Troy Anthony Davis: A Reflection

2011-09-23T11:31:00.000-07:00

I read a book by John Grisham, attorney, novelist and board member of the Innocence Project. His latest novel, The Confession, involves a murderer who is concerned that a man charged with the crime he committed is about to be executed. Stricken with guilt or so we think, he goes to a minister, confesses and asks the pastor's help in exonerating the man charged with the crime he committed.

As Grisham goes—I have read at least ten of his books, from the Pelican Brief to Runaway Jury, The Summons, Ford Country, The King of Torts, The Appeal, The Last Juror, The Innocent Man, and The Associate and found this novel as compelling as others. While not my favorite, it perhaps haunts me the most given the recent events surrounding Troy Anthony Davis. It could have been written with Troy Anthony in mind.

What is compelling about this book is the legal team Grisham profiles as they fight for their client's life, his profiles of the convicted man's family and their suffering along with the convicted man all the years he has been on death row. The final walk and what the victim's family is says about the man accused of their loved one's death before they know the truth and their silence afterward. Grisham's The Confession," also highlights the media spins and macabre nature of American culture--like vultures feeding on carcasses.

When Clinton reversed the habeas corpus and George W. Bush pushed forward the USA Patroit Act 1 & 2, justice died a second death.

The Confession illustrates classic American justice, I jest, classic injustice,a tale spun like the dog running in circles and getting nowhere which is what happens when one is black and caught in the web called criminal injustice.

The murderer has the class ring of his victim and seems obsessed with her years later. A serial murderer and sex offender, he convinces a pastor to help him break his parole and head out of state to try to convince the governor to listen to his story.

The true case of New Orleans resident, John Thompson, who over the course of 18 years went from Death Row to Freedom, shared in the book Killing Time, (2010), by John Hollway and Ronald M. Gauthier, has much in common with the protagonist in Grisham's novel, as does the case of the late Troy Anthony Davis.

Innocence is not a legal or even a sought after option on the check the box for justice form this nation touts but certainly doesn't pretend to uphold.
Visit http://www.jgrisham.com/books/

I was so happy when I heard that Davis had gotten a momentary stay Sept.21, 2011, and then as I watched the news later on I learned that he was gone—the state of Georgia killed him despite the recanting of all the witnesses. I thought in the real world justice sometimes works—-in the real world bad guys get caught, that they don’t escape and escape again and again, which is what happens in Grisham’s novel.

If Grisham’s character is a metaphor for the justice system-- broken, no shattered, on even its better days, then its time for citizens to activate their Constitutional right to resist tyranny until death--the death of tyranny that is (smile).

The murderer says he is dying and this good deed is a way to get right with god. At the end of the story though, the questionable philanthropist’s intentions become suspect— Was this confession a gamble against himself, he wins?

The guilty man gets attention, appears on the news, is sought after as the defendant’s attorneys scramble to file last minute pleas only to find the door shut five minutes before their arrival, and at the governor’s office aides decide what they will share with him, so he doesn’t see the killer’s taped confession. So when the pastor meets the condemned man, witnesses his killing and then goes with the confessed killer on a hunt for the body, which they find . . . one wonders why we are still executing people since in novels and in real life, we get it wrong.

Wanda's Picks September 23, 2011 www.blogtalkradio.com/wandas-picks

2011-09-23T09:57:00.000-07:00

Our first Guests talk about Duniya Dance & Drum Company and the African Advocacy Network's "Lanyee: A Ballet from Guinea, West Africa," a spectacular performance of high energy West African dance and music, Sept. 30, 8 PM, Oct. 1, 8 PM and Oct. 2, 6 PM at Dance Mission in San Francisco, CA.

Alpha Oumar “Bongo” Sidibe is a traditional drummer from Conakry, Guinea in West Africa and lead vocalist and founder for Wontanara band. He is Musical Director of Duniya Dance and Drum Company. Bongo studied with Master Drummer Mamady Keita at his school, Tam Tam Mandigue, Guinea, and participated in his workshops in Conakry and Balandougou, Mamady’s village. He performed with Ballet Jah Karlo in Dakar, Senegal, and recorded the CD “N’dguel Fall” and toured with Orchestre Baye Fall. Before leaving Guinea, he was co-director of Balandougou Kan, a group of traditional percussionists and dancers. Since arriving in the U.S., Bongo has performed with Rhythm Village, Joan Baez, Bolokada Conde, Mickey Hart, the Grateful Dead, and Black Nature from the Sierra Leone Refugee Allstars at venues such as Shoreline Amphitheater, The Independent, and De Young Museum. Bongo teaches regular drum classes in the Bay Area, and has also taught with Young Musicians and Artists, Out of Site Center for Arts Education and San Francisco Ballet.

Joti Singh is a choreographer, performer, and instructor of Bhangra and Bollywood dances from India and dance from Guinea, West Africa. She is the Artistic Director and founder of Duniya Dance and Drum Company. She was an Artist-in-Residence at CounterPULSE, in 2008. In addition Joti apprenticed Guinean dancer Alseny Soumah through the ACTA Apprenticeship Program and received the organization’s Traditional Artist Development Grant. She participated in the Margaret Jenkins CHIME mentorship program during 2009, studying Mexican Folklorico dance with Zenon Barron. Joti received the Creative Work Fund and SF Arts Commission grants to collaborate with Barron’s company Ensambles Ballet Folklorico de San Francisco to create a piece on the Punjabi Mexican communities of California, which premiered in November 2010. She teaches Bhangra, Bollywood and West African dance classes regularly all over the Bay Area, as well as nationally and internationally. Please see her website for more information: www.duniyadance.com

Our second guest,Intisar Sharif, RN, speaks about the Prevention Well Project in Somalia, Saturday, Sept. 24, 2011, 6-9 PM at Eden Palm Apartments Hall, 53 Monterey Road, San Jose, CA 94511, (408) 799-5947. The Well Project costs $10,000 as the land is hard and the drill bits break often as the engineers dig deeply into the earth to locate water (because of the drought). Only $7,000.00 has been raised so far. This means that the school Intisar and her sister also started has been vacant as children travel with their families to find water for their herds.

Both Intisar and her sister, Hayat Atteyeh, RT, initiated this project ten years ago using land inherited from their grandfather. Their uncle, Mohamed Atteyeh is the engineer who supervised building the clinic. They live in California and London but travel to the village. Another uncle, Mohamood Atteyeh, is living in Somalia and will supervise drilling the well. Other friends and relatives are contributing to these projects with money and expertise.

Contact by email tracyweiss@aol.com or send donations to Hayat Atteyeh, 484 Ardis Avenue, San Jose, CA 95117.

We close with the director and cast from Lorraine Hansberry Theatre's opening season:Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue. . . Lorraine Hansberry Theatres 2011-2012 Season opens with two One-Act Plays: Day of Absence and Almost Nothing, October 11-Nov. 20, 2012. Visit www.lhtsf.org or call (415) 474-8800.

Steven Anthony Jones, LHT Artistic Director, and director of these two plays, joins us with cast members: Carla Punch, Rhonnie Washington, Catherine, and Wilma.

Mr. Jones (director) has worked professionally on stage, television and film for 37 years. Most recently, he was a core company actor at American Conservatory Theatre (A.C.T.), where he acted, directed and taught, and where he has been seen in November, 'Tis a Pity She's a Whore, Blood Knot, The Imaginary Invalid, After the War, Happy End, Gem of the Ocean, Female Transport, Levee James, Waiting for Godot, Yohen, The Three Sisters, The Dazzle, Night and Day, Buried Child, A Christmas Carol (Scrooge and The Ghost of Christmas Present), Celebration and The Room, "Master Harold"...and the boys, The Misanthrope, The Invention of Love, The Threepenny Opera, Tartuffe, Indian Ink, Hecuba, Insurrection: Holding History, Seven Guitars, Othello (title role), Antigone, Miss Evers' Boys, Clara, Joe Turner's Come and Gone, Saint Joan, King Lear, Golden Boy, and Feathers. Other local theater credits include Fuente Ovejuna and McTeague (Berkeley Repertory Theatre); As You Like It (San Francisco Shakespeare Festival); The Cherry Orchard, Every Moment, and The Island (Eureka Theatre); Sideman (San Jose Repertory Theatre); and Division Street (Oakland Ensemble Theatre). He originated the role of Private James Wilkie in the original production of A Soldier's Play at the Negro Ensemble Company in New York. His many film and television credits include two seasons of Midnight Caller and a recurring role on the NBC series Trauma. Mr Jones received his early theatre training at Karamu House in his hometown of Cleveland, Ohio. He is a graduate of Yankton College in South Dakota. Other experience includes the Cleveland Playhouse, Berkeley Rep, San Jose Rep, and San Francisco Shakespeare Festival, among others.

Music: Keb'Mo's "Wake Up Everybody," Babatunde Lea's "African Tapestry, Prayer for a Continent," and two selections from Fely's latest CD, Maturite: "America, Land of Hope" and "Topaz, Working for Someone Else."

Troy Anthony Davis Denied Clemency

2011-09-20T16:24:00.000-07:00

Kiilu Nyasha called for a fast from today, Tuesday, Sept. 20-Thursday, Sept. 22, 2011as a show of unity and solidarity for Troy and his family and all the millions of American men and women and children incarcerated and on death row.

She writes:

We can all do this one thing in universal/global solidarity with ONE LOVE in support of Troy Davis and all prisoners locked up in the dungeons of the world. Those of you who twitter, please send out a few lines encouraging this universal, spiritual unity and solidarity in protest of the death penalty and all cruel and usual punishment. This is the least we can do. I hope others will come up with more creative ideas on how we can deliver a consequence to the powers that be without resorting to violence (for which I'm sure they're well prepared). The police state is here!

Peace, power and love,
Kiilu
A TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE: TROY HAS BEEN DENIED CLEMENCY

Troy Anthony Davis has been denied clemency by the Georgia Board of Pardons and Parole. This means that Troy could be executed tomorrow at 7 p.m. if the board does not reverse its decision, and if no court intervenes.

Members of the Campaign to End the Death Penalty will not idly sit by while a murder is carried out in the name of the state of Georgia. We will be holding speakouts and rallies to demand that this execution be stopped and to urge the pardons board to reverse its decision. We encourage everyone to come out if they can and continue to phone, fax and e-mail messages to the board.

Over 1 million people have signed petitions in support of clemency for Troy. More than 3,000 people marched and rallied for Troy just five days ago in Atlanta--the largest demonstration of support for any death row prisoner since the protests to stop the execution of Stan Tookie Williams in California in 2005. Global actions of solidarity were held all over the world, including Germany, Hong Kong, Belgium and Nigeria, and more than 300 actions that took place across the U.S.

Troy is supported by numerous civil rights leaders, including NAACP president Ben Jealous, Jesse Jackson of Rainbow Push, and Al Sharpton of the National Action Network. Other prominent supporters include President Jimmy Carter, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, former FBI Director William Sessions, and former federal prosecutor and death penalty supporter Bob Barr.

The question that has to be asked is: Why can't the members of the Georgia Board of Pardons and Paroles see what over a million people have?

No physical evidence connects Troy to the murder for which he was condemned to death, and seven of the nine witnesses against him at his original trial have recanted their original testimony against Troy. Brenda Davis, one of the jurors in that trial, told CNN in 2009, "If I knew then what I know now, Troy Davis would not be on death row. The verdict would be 'not guilty.'"

Why isn't this good enough to win clemency for Troy? For that matter, why isn't it good enough to win him a new trial where the evidence of his innocence could be heard by a jury?

The answer is simple: It is good enough. People have won reversals in their cases for far less than what Troy has put forward.

So why are so many politicians and state officials in Georgia determined to kill Troy?

This case is not merely a matter of guilt or innocence. Race and class have everything to do with why Troy was arrested in the first place, and why he has had such a hard time getting a hearing in the courts ever since. Troy was a Black man accused of killing a white police officer in a city of the Deep South, and he was too poor to afford good legal representation at his first trial.

Now that he does have lawyers who have been able to unravel the case against him, Troy is required under the law to prove his innocence in a court system that wants to accept the evidence as it was presented against him nearly 20 years ago. Without incontrovertible proof of innocence--like DNA testing that excludes him--it is very difficult to prove innocence in the eyes of the law.

It all comes down to this terrible truth, as Troy himself put it in an interview in the New Abolitionist: "Georgia feels it's better to kill me than admit I'm innocent."

If Georgia goes forward and executes Troy Davis, it will be very definition of a modern-day lynching.

When Blacks were lynched in this country, it was often based on a lie--that they were guilty of some crime and deserved their fate. And there was no recourse for them in the court system or wider power structure. The perpetrators of lynchings were almost never punished--only 1 percent of such cases ever went trial, and far fewer were ever convicted.

Troy Davis has been convicted and sentenced to death based on a series of lies--and he, too, has found no recourse. Because "Georgia feels it's better to kill me than admit I'm innocent."

WE MUST STAND UP AGAINST THIS MODERN-DAY LYNCHING AND SAY NO TO THE EXECUTION OF TROY DAVIS AND NO TO THE RACIST DEATH PENALTY.

For more information on Troy's case and to keep posted on what you can do today and tomorrow, visit the CEDP website at http://nodeathpenalty.org. Send your messages urging reversal to the Georgia Board of Pardons and Parole--Call 404-656-5651, e-mail webmaster@pap.state.ga.us < mailto:webmaster@pap.state.ga.us> and fax 404-651-8502.

Marthe Enice Cassandre St Vil

2011-09-18T23:48:00.000-07:00

In August 2010, with one of the leaders of a women's organization in Port-au-Prince, an organization that supports women and girls who are victims of sexual violence since the earthquake and before, I met Cassandre, a young woman who has been raped. Cassandre lost her father in the earthquake; he was putting his daughter through university, so when he was killed, her dreams died too.

When I returned to Oakland on of all days, the Hon. Mosiah Marcus Garvey's Birthday, August 17, 2010, I spoke to a friend of mine, Kamau Amen Ra about Cassandre, and he volunteered to support her in her dream to become an accountant. He has been paying her tuition for a year now. I took myself out of the picture and the two of them have grown close.

For several months Kamau has been telling me he wants to get housing for Cassandre and her mom and grandmother. I got in touch with a friend of mine Jean Yvon Kernizan whose home was turned into a clinic days after the quake. He also started a school to help the children recover from the trauma of the earthquake at his home. I visited his school or after school program when I was there last year as well. It is in the mountains. He funds everything out of pocket. No American dollars have touched his work and programs.

These are two individual stories.

There is so much suffering in Haiti. One can assist organizations, but the need is so great people like Cassandre and her blind grandmother and sickly mother are often left out of the loop.

It costs between $1600 and $2000 to pay for an apartment for a year in Port-au-Prince. I have raised $120.00 of the total cost. If 200 people hear my call, and give $20.00 I can send Cassandre money to move her family this weekend. It is hurricane season, which means in the camps, there is lots of water and chaos--wind and debris which makes an unstable situation even more precarious.

Money can be sent to me: Wanda Sabir, P.O. Box 30756, Oakland, CA 94621. I will keep everyone posted on the monies raised. My goal is to send her the $1600 to $2000.00 by Friday, September 29, 2011, no later than October 2, 2011. 14 days exactly.

Here are recent notes from Cassandre:

Sep 15 (4 days ago)

Hello! How are you Wanda? The situation is really bad at Champ de Mars, yesterday it happened something terible in this camp, there is a group of bandits and a group of Minustha who come into the camp, they use fire arms to shoot, they send ghttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifas acrimogenes, my family was at Champs de Mars, my mother could not bear, she had a heart attack, we had to transport her to the general hospital, it was very hard, my grandmother is blind, it was very hard for her to support that. We don't know when these criminals go back to hurt people in the camp, we have no other place to go, we are forced to stay in the camp. So I know you want to help my family. I ask you please to think about how you will do to help our family as soon as possible because we really need a safe place to live.

Sep 17 (1 day ago)

Hi Wanda, my Mom is not too bad thanks to God, she was in hospital but now she is at home, a Champs de Mars camp, we are obliged to return to the camp which is full of problems because we have nowhere else to go . You are our only hope.

Stop the "Legal" Lynching . . . Free Troy Davis! End the Racist Death Penalty!

2011-09-16T11:32:00.000-07:00

Troy Davis is innocent, yet Faces Execution on September 21st -- Act Now! Listen to a rebroadcast of an interview with Troy's sister when he was about to be executed previously: Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2011, at wandaspicks.asmnetwork.org

The Labor Action Committee To Free Mumia Abu-Jamal in solidarity with the call from:Campaign To End the Death Penalty and others, urges you to come out for:

Global Day of Action in Oakland, CA! Friday September 16th, 4 to 6 PM. at the Oakland Federal Building, 1301 Clay St, near City Center/12th Street BART

Troy Davis was convicted of murdering a Georgia police officer in 1991. The case against him consisted entirely of witness testimony which contained inconsistencies even at the time of the trial. Since then, all but two of the state's non-police witnesses from the trial have recanted or contradicted their testimony. Many of these witnesses have stated in sworn affidavits that they were pressured or coerced by police into testifying or signing statements against Troy Davis.

One of the two witnesses who has not recanted his testimony is Sylvester "Red" Coles — the principle alternative suspect, according to the defense, against whom there is new evidence implicating him as the gunman. Nine individuals have signed affidavits implicating Sylvester Coles.

Troy has spent the last two decades years on death row for a crime he did not commit. He has faced three execution dates and now faces an execution date of September 21st! This time it is going to take all of our voices, all of our action, and everything we can muster to say NO to the death penalty, NO to the execution of Troy Davis, and NO to this modern-day lynching. The time to act is NOW!

ALSO: Contact the Board of Pardons and Paroles, to voice your support for Troy Davis. Call 404 656-5651 or email webmaster@pap.state.ga.us

Go to www.nodeathpenalty.org to download more information. Watch and respond to this video with Troy's sister Kimberly: http://www.naacp.org/blog/entry/a-special-message-from-kimberly-davis

Wanda's Picks Radio Show Friday, September 16, 2011

2011-09-16T11:09:00.000-07:00

Fighting for Our Freedom Tour stops in Oakland, Sept. 27-October 1, 2011 and features: Dorothy Pinkney and her husband Rev. Edward Pinkney, who is President of the Benton Harbor NAACP and has been singled out for political attack because of his years of outspoken criticism of the takeover of his local City government by the Whirlpool Corporation. He will join us to talk about his work and the upcoming events in the Bay Area.

Carole Flowers speaks on the Second Annual "Stepping Toward the Cure 5K Fun Run & Walk (Northern California) at Lakeside Park (near Bandstand) in Oakland, Sunday, Sept. 18, 2011. Registration begins at 8 AM.

Barbara Hunter joins us to talk about the Barbara Hunter Jazz Quartet performing tonight at the 57th Street Gallery in Oakland.

Jacqueline Hairston speaks about Carnegie Hall Preview Concert at Afro Solo at the African American Art and Culture Complex's Burial Clay Theatre, Sunday, Sept. 25, 2011. Visit afrosolo.org

We feature music arranged by Jacqueline Hairston and original music and that of others featuring Barbara Hunter: "My Secret Love/St. Thomas," "For Sarah" (B. Hunter), Searching for the Truth (M. Wright). We open with an excerpt from "Eternity" (Liz Wright from Salt).

Wanda's Picks Friday, September 9, 2011

2011-09-09T10:46:00.000-07:00

8 AM: Jewell Parker Rhodes is the award-winning author of Voodoo Dreams, Magic City, Douglass’ Women, Season, Moon, Hurricane, and the children’s book, Ninth Ward. Her writing guides include: Free Within Ourselves: Fiction Lessons for Black Authors and The African American Guide to Writing and Publishing Nonfiction. Jewell is the Virginia G. Piper Chair in Creative Writing and Artistic Director of Piper Global Engagement at Arizona State University.

Her book, Voodoo Dreams; was cited as “Most Innovative” Drama in the 2000-2001 Professional Theater Season by the Arizona Republic and she is currently at work on a theatrical version of Douglass’ Women.

Her work has been published in Germany, Italy, Canada, Turkey, and the United Kingdom and reproduced in audio and for NPR’s “Selected Shorts.”

Her honors include: the American Book Award, the National Endowment of the Arts Award in Fiction, the Black Caucus of the American Library Award for Literary Excellence, the PEN Oakland/Josephine Miles Award for Outstanding Writing, and two Arizona Book Awards. Rhodes is the Virginia G. Piper Endowed Chair of Creative Writing at Arizona State University and Artistic Director of Piper Global Engagement.
http://jewellparkerrhodes.com/books/

8:30 AM – 9 AM: Claude Marks & Yusufu L. Mosley

Yusufu holds two degrees, a BA in sociology, and an MA in political science with an emphasis on social ethics. He is also a longtime community activist and has worked with various community organizations designed to advance the liberation struggle. Currently, Yusufu works in the social justice field and is a member of several professional organizations related to the criminal justice field in the Chicagoland area.

Yusufu is a trained and certified as a Circle Keeper in Restorative Justice (RJ) field. He has completed 80 hours of Restorative Justice sponsored by the Community Justice Institute and Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention of Florida Atlantic University; 16 hours training for Community Panels for Youth at the Children and Family Justice Center of the Northwestern University School of Law; and, 120 hours of Peacemaking Circles for the Living Justice Institute of St. Paul Minnesota and the Center for Reconciliation in Chicago, Illinois.

Claude Marks is a former anti-imperialist political prisoner and is the Project Director of The Freedom Archives, a political, cultural oral history project, restoration center, and media production facility in San Francisco.

Under his direction, The Freedom Archives has released several recent documentary CDs and videos combining restored historical audio and contemporary interviews.
http://www.freedomarchives.org/struggle_inside_Sept.html

Event
Commemorate the 40th Anniversary of the Attica Prison Uprising

Friday, September 9th - 7pm Sharp
518 Valencia Street - San Francisco
Attica - The Restored 1974 Film

Discussion with:
Azadeh Zohrabi - Hastings Race & Poverty Law Journal
Dennis Cunningham - Original Attica Attorney
Manuel La Fontaine - about connecting the dots to
Georgia, Ohio and California prison strikes

Prison unrest in the United States hit a boiling point on September 9, 1971, when inmates at Attica State Prison after months of protesting inhumane living conditions rebelled, seizing part of the prison and taking 35 hostages. The uprising was met with a military attack and the murder of 43 people after NY State troopers assaulted the prisoners. Attica - released 3 years later - is an investigation of the rebellion and its aftermath, piecing together documentary footage of the occupation and ensuing assault. Especially significant today as prisoners from Georgia, Ohio, California and other states fight for their human rights in the face of increased imprisonment and the brutality and torture of long-term solitary confinement.

$10 Donation - $5 youth - No one turned away
Sponsored by the Freedom Archives & the Malcolm X Grassroots Movement

Catch this 8-minute video
http://vimeo.com/16298370

9:00 PM: Rohina Malik & Raelle Myrick-Hodges

Rohina Malik (Writer and Performer) is a Chicago-based playwright, actress and solo performance artist. She is a resident playwright at Chicago Dramatist, and an artistic associate at the 16th Street Theater. She was born and raised in London (UK) of South Asian heritage. Her one-woman play Unveiled, had its world premiere at the 16th Street Theater, where Rohina performed to sold-out houses and received critical acclaim. Unveiled received a second production at Victory Gardens Theater, a third production at Next Theater/Evanston. Rohina is thrilled that Unveiled is having its fourth production here at Brava. She workshopped her play Yasmina’s Necklace with the Goodman Theatre in their New staged Series in Dec 2009, directed by Henry Godinez. Her third play The Mecca Tales, which is a Goodman commission, had a staged reading June 2011, directed by Ron OJ Parsons. Rohina recently completed a one year residency at The Goodman, as a member of The Goodman Theatre’s Playwright’s Unit. With the success of Unveiled, Rohina has been invited to perform at High schools, middle schools, Universities, Churches, Mosques, Synagogues and other venues. You can contact Rohina at Unveiledtheplay@gmail.com

Raelle Myrick-Hodges (Director) studied literature at Ealing College (London) and theatre arts at the University of Southern California. In early 2008 Raelle Myrick-Hodges was appointed as the second Artistic Director in Brava’s 22 year history. As founder of Azuka Theatre in Philadelphia, Raelle presented several world and regional premieres and was a NEA/TCG awardee. Raelle has had the opportunity to work at The Public Theater, MudBone Collective, Aurora Theater, McCarter Theater, Philadelphia Theater Company, Berkeley Rep (Education Dept.), Magic Theater, Playmakers Repertory Theater, Arden Theater Company among others. She has had the chance to work with several artists including Geoffrey Arend, Meryl Streep, Jeffrey Wright, Harold Perrineau, Liev Schreiber, Doug Hughes, George C. Wolfe, Suzanne Lori-Parks, Larry Gilliard Jr., Kirsten Greenidge, Ryan Templeton, Charlayne Woodard, Frederick Weller among others.

9:30 AM: Lenora Lee, Francis Wong

Event: Asian Improv aRts, API Cultural Center & CounterPULSE in association with Chinese Historical Society of America Museum, and Angel Island Immigration Station Foundation present: Reflections by Lenora Lee Dance with Kei Lun Martial Arts & Enshin Karate, South San Francisco Dojo, featuring media design by Olivia Ting, music by Francis Wong, text by Genny Lim, and videography by Ben Estabrook.

The piece is inspired by stories of three generations of men as they realize their identity and community as Chinese Americans.

Thursday - Sunday, September 8th - 11th, 8pm, (panel discussion September 10th) also featuring "Pretonically Oriented V. 3" by FACT/SF CounterPULSE, 1310 Mission St @ 9th St, SF, CA 94103 Even though they are sold out, there are tickets available at the door. Arrive early to get on the wait list. Tickets are $20 at the Door

Live Performers: Lenora Lee, Marina Fukushima, Ronald Wong, Dale Chung, Raymond Fong, Yukihiko Noda, Jon Iiyama, and Collin Wong.

Additional Artists on Video: Corey Chan, Nolan Chow, Junichiro Nakanishi, Keith Soohoo.

Music score by Francis Wong with Kei Lun Martial Arts, Tatsu Aoki, Karen Stackpole, Melody Takata. The Asian American Arts Centre, New York City has given generous permission for the use of excerpts from "Uncle Ng Comes to Gold Mountain" performed by NEA Heritage Fellow Ng Sheung Chi (Uncle Ng).

The mission of Lenora Lee Dance (LLD) is to give artistic voice to the experiences of Asian Americans. Deeply rooted in the Chinatown and Asian American communities of San Francisco, LLD pursues this mission through the creation and presentation of interdisciplinary dance works integrating movement, music, video projection, and text that tell untold stories of family, community, and transformation in facing the challenges of building a life in America.

For more information, www.LenoraLeeDance.com, www.asianimprov.org, or email Lenora@asianimprov.org

Bios
Lenora Lee (choreographer / dancer) is a native San Franciscan and has been creating and performing work since 1998. She has been an integral part of the San Francisco and New York Asian American contemporary dance and creative music communities, as choreographer, dancer, and Managing Director of Asian American Dance Performances, as dancer and taiko artist with Gen Taiko, as Co-Artistic Director for the Red Jade Collective, as artist-in-residence at the Japanese Cultural & Community Center of Northern California, the Chinatown Beacon Center, and in the SFUSD, as Co-Artistic Director of Lee & Wang Dance, and most recently as Project Manager for Asian Improv aRts. Lenora has directed, choreographed, and produced her own works performing nationally and internationally.

Her projects have been sponsored by Mulberry Street Theater’s Ear to the Ground commissioning with generous support from the Jerome Foundation, CA$H, a grants program administered by Theatre Bay Area in partnership with Dancers’ Group, Zellerbach Family Foundation, Performing Arts Assistance Program, Lighting Artist in Dance Award, a program of Dancers’ Group, Asian Improv aRts, Footloose Presents AIM: Artists in Motion, and by Generous Individuals. “Japanese drumming (taiko), tai chi, gung fu and karate, forms I study, bring me to tradition and to cultures I have a great affinity toward and ancestral roots in. What becomes woven into the fabric of my dance is the body’s understanding, in the muscle memory, of what it is to be in confrontation, defense, as well as in harmony, with fiery velocity. Moreover, the dance is informed by the body’s understanding of what it is to be the driving heartbeat of song and community spirit.

My movement vocabulary is also influenced by what are distinctly American art forms: modern dance, sign language, contact improvisation, and jazz music. It is within the detailed narrative gesture of the hands colliding and collaborating with the striking physicality and partnering within contact improvisation vocabulary, where a dynamic visceral language develops, one that is reflective of intimate connection and storytelling. In addition to pursuing the creation of choreography and collaboration with musicians/composers, I have been pursuing the integration of forms such as video projection, large scale visual art, even public art, in informing the synthesis of my work, as well as in providing the frame for the exploration of key themes in my body of work. These themes include the questions: What is my role within the lineage of my family history? How do our experiences within the Chinese Diaspora interweave to manifest a collective narrative? What place does this narrative have in the forming of community within our increasingly complex global trans-cultural and dynamic social ecology?”

Francis Wong
Few musicians are as accomplished as Francis Wong (composer / sound designer), considered one of "the great saxophonists of his generation" by the late jazz critic Phil Elwood. A prolific recording artist, Wong is featured on more than forty titles as a leader and sideman. For over two decades he has performed his innovative brand of Asian American jazz/creative music for audiences in North America, Asia, and Europe with such with such luminaries as Jon Jang, Tatsu Aoki, Genny Lim, William Roper, Bobby Bradford, John Tchicai, James Newton, Joseph Jarman, Don Moye and the late Glenn Horiuchi. But to simply call the Bay Area native a musician would be to ignore his pioneering leadership in communities throughout Northern California. Wong's imaginative career straddles roles as varied as performing artist, youth mentor, composer, artistic director, community activist, non-profit organization manager, consultant, music producer, and academic lecturer. Wong was a California Arts Council Artist in Residence from 1992 through 1998, and a Meet The Composer New Resident in 2000-2003. In 2000-2001 he was a Rockefeller Next Generational Leadership Fellow. He has also been a guest member of the faculty at San Francisco State University (1996-98) and at University of California at Santa Cruz (1996-2001). www.franciswong.net

Music
Music: Aaron Neville's "So Many Tears" on Hurricane Katrina Relief Benefit CD; Michael Franti & Spearhead BOMB the World "Remix;" Thaddeus Edwards's "Prelude to Peace;" Liz Wright's "Fire."

Reflections
I am always nervous before the start of a show. I always feel under prepared and this morning was no different. I'd planned to get up three hours before the show and only got up two hours earlier (smile). In the middle of editing and running between rooms picking up files and copies I had unexpected company arrive--

I schedule my life around my show. I don't teach on Fridays and don't schedule work or appointments on Friday either because I usually spend the rest of the day recuperating from the show afterwards.

I was so looking forward to speaking to Jewell Parker Rhodes, such a phenomenal writer--she is a study within herself. Her work is so intentional: her character's integrity and sense. She spoke about the communal aspect of African healing. I like that. In Rufisque this is what I experienced, an experience verified by Joy Degruy Leary, Ph.D., who said that black people are communal, when we are ill the healing takes place in community--it is participatory. I witnessed this first hand when I was invited to several healings where there were drummers and everyone in the village knew the healing songs, the dances and the rhythms even the one who was sick.

I was so excited about our interview, when Mrs. Rhodes Parker responded to my email request for an interview with a yes, I smiled for two weeks at the thought.

Each one of her novels is such a wonderful journey, I want to revisit them now. In Voodoo Dreams after reading the trilogy: Voodoo Season, Yellow Moon and Hurricane, I got background information on characters I'd met tangentially in the other subsequent novels. How does one discuss five novels in such a finite span of time-- half an hour? Not well, yet if audiences got a feel for the author and a curiosity about her work, then I am happy. I could have just talked about Hurricane and perhaps next year we can so just that along with Ninth Ward, but the way Rhodes Parker personifies the watery goddess--names her and her entourage is quite fantastic. Oya's wrath, the water's curse on the west and its capture of her children gems on the ocean floor (August Wilson).

Last night at Brava's Regional Premiere of Rohina Malik's "Unveiled," directed by Raelle Myrick-Hodges tells stories of women beyond the veil, the veil a metaphor for hypocritical and racist responses to women who veil after 9/11. Most of these women, I think all of them, are non-Arab.

Not the first to visit this topic, Malik might be the first to tell these stories from the perspective of women, from a housewife and an attorney in Chicago to a rap artist in London. The five women are unique and yet they are the same, their loss or pending loss is one which can be avoided if at the end of the play, one unveils.

One character speaks about the scarf or hijab --ritual covering she wears in contrast to the political veil bigoted Americans don to justify discrimination based on religion: Islam. When Timothy McVeigh set of these bombs, all Christians were not subsequently vilified another character states.

I thought back on 9/11: where I was that morning and days later when I found out that a friend of mine, a stewardess scheduled to fly that day to DC, but didn't. Masajid were evacuated for safety.

At Laney College where I was teaching, we received bomb threats for months after that fateful day. It became a routine we never got used to: seeing the sheriff at the door with the announcement to evacuate.

Yesterday in class one of my students spoke about a friend of hers, a blind man who survived the World Trade Center bombing with his dog--amazing! He now lives in Alameda. Another student in that same class spoke of a bomb threat at her child's school: Skyline High in Oakland. She was there picking him up and told me she wouldn't be able to make it to class.

I recalled a series of photos my daughter made depicting the different faces of Muslim women. No one was immune, women who covered their hair, anyone who looked like the stereotypical "Arab," was suspect, when Islam is a faith with a diverse constituency.

Islam is the largest and fastest growing religion in the world. TaSin was absent and asked me to read a poem at an exhibit at Pro Arts when Betty Kano was director.

As I was speaking to my last guests Lenora Lee and Francis Wong the program kicked me off. This is the second time I have been on the air and all of a sudden I was disconnected and got a busy signal in the middle of the show. This is within the past three months. Luckily my two guests called me back.

Wanda's Picks Friday, Sept. 2, 2011

2011-09-02T10:01:00.000-07:00

STEVE JAMES, Director, Producer, Cinematographer, Editor, is best known as the award-winning director, producer, and co-editor of Kartemquin’s Hoop Dreams, which won every major critics award as well as a Peabody and Robert F. Kennedy Journalism Award in 1995. The film earned Steve the Directors Guild of America Award, The MTV Movie Awards “Best New Filmmaker” and an Oscar nomination for editing. Hoop Dreams was selected for the Library of Congress’ National Film Registry, signifying the film’s enduring importance to American film history. Steve’s other award-winning films produced with Kartemquin include Stevie, winner of major festival awards at Sundance, Amsterdam, Yamagata and Philadelphia; the PBS series, The New Americans, which won the prestigious 2004 International Documentary Association Award for Best Limited Series; At the Death House Door, which won numerous festivals and was Steve’s fourth film to be officially short-listed for the Academy Award; and No Crossover: The Trial of Allen Iverson for ESPN Films' International Documentary Association-winning series 30 for 30. THE INTERRUPTERS is Steve’s sixth film in partnership with Kartemquin and his fifth film to play at the Sundance Film Festival. The film will be broadcast on PBS' Frontline in late 2011. Steve’s other work includes The War Tapes, which he produced and edited, and which won the 2006, Tribeca Film Festival Grand Prize. The Interrupters opens toda, Sept. 2, in San Francisco and Berkeley.

Jetta Martin joins us to talk about "Mirrored: An Interactive Evening of Dance with Martin and Michael Velez at Dance Mission in San Francisco, Sept. 9-10. Come join us for an evening of dance, adventure and the element of choice. As a part of the Down and Dirty Dance Series Martin and Velez will present new and previously commissioned work. The audience and performers will create their own shared story each night through a combination of chance and luck. We will deconstruct coincidence vs. fate and consider the choices, if any, we really have. Visit www.jettamartin.com

Alisa Froman, Executive Director, established PlazaCUBA in the year 2000 and continues to be the visionary creator of projects and events. Alisa is an accomplished Afro-Cuban folklore and salsa dancer and performs in the Bay Area with various groups. She has studied Cuban culture and religion for many years and remains a knowledgeable and loving member of an international community interested in investigating and preserving Cuban culture. Alisa has been traveling to Cuba for 18 years and has accompanied hundreds of Americans to Cuba on music, dance and cultural adventures. Visit www.plazacuba.com

Historic Assembly Hearing on the Use of Solitary Confinement in CA's Secure Housing Units (SHU)

2011-08-30T06:24:00.000-07:00

Denise, Marilyn Anna, and I, with Harriett at the wheel, left West Oakland BART in the second carpool wave for Sacramento Tuesday, August 23, 2011 at 9:30 AM to attend a pre-rally for the historic California Assembly Hearing on Solitary Confinement. Linda Evans was hosting the program when we arrived that muggy warm morning just in time to hear State Assemblyman Tom Ammiano, chair of the Public Safety Committee of the California State Assembly, speak about the reason for a hearing to discuss the conditions in California’s Secure Housing Units (SHU). He said the legislators were all very curious. “This is an issue that gives Assembly people pause, (as) it is so politicized, but we have been able to tap into that compassionate part of people. They know that something needs to be done. They don’t necessarily want to be the ones who do it, but we will make sure that it happens.”

This legislative curiosity theme was affirmed by many All of Us or None members who’d lobbied legislators earlier that morning (the 7:30 AM BART carpool shift). One friend, Brother Fred Abdullah spoke of how clueless and uninformed about the situation most if not all of the four politicians he met with that morning were. Later on, the two rows directly in front of the panelists were filled with unidentified men and women, all members of the California legislative team or CDCR staff. I watched their shifting body language—arms folded across chests, legs crossed—boredom was not evident even in the face of such physical indicators of denial.

The State Capitol, Room 4202 was full from the balcony to the main floor—it was good the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation panel (CDCR) presented last. They would have been laughed out the room—their presentation so absent of any real data, especially when it came to the sentencing standards for prisoners sent to security controlled housing units or SHU. From the first panel with a former SHU inmate, Earl Fears, SOULJAHs, The Movement; a family member of an inmate at Pelican Bay, Glenda Rojas, and an articulate clergyman, Rev. William McGarvey, Bay Area Religious Campaign Against Torture, to the panel of experts presenting research perspectives on SHU, the lobbyists against SHU confinement presented irrefutable arguments. I called them the A-Team.

Fears eloquently shared horror stories of his incarceration at Corcoran SHU. There is prison and then there is prison, the SHU its own island within a horrific system of confinement. He said that any time grown men, hard and tough men would break down and cry, the terror had to be real. Rev. McGarvey gave a history of the introduction of solitary confinement, a Quaker practice, into corrections, a practice later suspended for 20 years because of its potential for abuse, then reinstituted. McGarvey echoed Fears examples that spoke to the brutality of California’s penal system, and spoke of the time when prisoners began to be given human rights. There was a lot of history about Pelican Bay, its construction and CDC’s hopes based on a new model addressing gang activity called the Security Threat Group Identification and Management Policy or STG. Certification, Debriefing, Observation, Risk Assessment, Security Threat Group (STG), Security Threat Group (STG) Member, Security Threat Group (STG) Suspected Member, Sensitive Needs Yard, Threat Assessment, Validation, heinous and contested policies can all be traced to the 2007 adoption of The Security Threat Group Identification and Management Policy which supposedly “incorporates national standards and approaches to the handling of security threat group (STG) members housed in California’s adult institutions” (CDCR Policy Statement).

The second panel shifted the narrative to an analysis of CDCR policy of solitary confinement and sensory deprivation with opening comments by Charles Carbone, J.D., Prisoner Rights Attorney. Carbone spoke about the whole gang culture paranoia which seems to define CDCR policies especially at Pelican Bay. He showed how having the high maintenance population in the SHU didn’t decrease crime or make the prison any safer. In fact, the opposite was true. The fact that these men were willing to sacrifice their lives for an opportunity to break the silence and expose the conditions of their confinement, sentences not based on a verdict by a jury of their peers, rather on the word of a bureaucrat at Pelican Bay on the word of someone forced to debrief or snitch for favors--was duly noted by the Legislative Committee members and chair.

Former SHU inmates speaking at the rally earlier that morning shared how they were recovering from solitary confinement, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and other psychoses associated with such treatment, how they needed continual psychiatric help post-SHU, how the SHU permanently affected their ability to function in society.

Laura Magnani, Regional Director of the American Friends Service Committee shared a report, “Buried Alive: Long-Term Isolation in California's Youth and Adult Prisons,” which she authored, that addressed the confinement of women and how solitary confinement stretches an already precarious and potentially sexually exploitative situation for women in isolation. She also defined torture and gave numerous statutes that pertained to human dignity and human rights. Dr. Terry Kupers, M.D., M.S.P., the Wright Institute and Craig Handy, Professor of Psychology at UC Santa Cruz, talked about the effects of long term confinement on inmates. All panelists gave concrete and useful suggestions to the Public Safety Committee, Assemblymembers: Holly J. Mitchell, Nancy Skinner, Curt Hagman, and Vice Chair, Steve Knight present, with two absences, Jerry Hill and Gilbert Cedillo, on how to make Pelican Bay into an environment that promoted rehabilitation. It got kind of testy at times, especially when CDCR presented. One could see where the assembly’s sentiments lay.

SHU inmates cannot have colored pencils or hobby crafts, photos or contact visits. One woman spoke of how her niece would like a photo of her dad. Mothers spoke of the prison’s refusal to allow their visits. One mother hasn’t seen her son in six years. Another mother said her grandson hasn’t seen his father since he was two, he is now thirteen. One man cried as he recalled the torture he was subjected to in the SHU. Holding his daughter he spoke of the arbitrary nature of the abuse which for him continued when he was released in the form of police harassment. Willie Sundiata Tate raised the name of Hugo “Yogi Bear” Pinell, who is the only member of the San Quentin 6 still behind bars and the longest held prisoner in the SHU, 30+ years, since 1969 (the trial ended in 1970). Kernan said earlier the longest anyone is held in the SHU was 6-8 years, rather than indeterminate sentencing. At his last parole hearing January 2011, Pinell was denied and told to return in 15 years. This was rescinded and amended to two years. Visit http://www.hugopinell.org/

Dorsey Nunn, Executive Director of LSPC and All of Us or None, spoke of his first visit to Pelican Bay. Tuesday, August 23, was his wedding anniversary and he’d planned to go to the cemetery and reflect. He told the story of JT, who has been in the SHU since 1988. The man is losing his color despite melanin magic (smile). JT has been eligible for parole for 35 years. It’s these men, the leaders, who are targeted by administration, the ones who write the 602s, prepare writs and call into account their captors.

The final panel of two was CDCR. Of the five demands, none were addressed. It would have been so easy to say—SHU inmates can have photos taken for family members; SHU inmates will be allowed access to an open yard where they can see the sky—that the debriefing or snitching prereq for release is eliminated. Not a chance. None of the demands were met, articulated or addressed by CDC reps.: Scott Kernan, Undersecretary of Operations or Anthony Chaus, Chief of Correctional Safety.

That the head of CDCR, Secretary Matthew Cade could not appear at this important and unprecedented hearing was a further slap in the face of this process and an indictment as to how far Assemblyman Tom Ammiano and other elected officials will have to go to address this injustice.(http://www.cdcr.ca.gov/About_CDCR/Executive_Staff.html). Kernan’s response to the excellent testimony by people affected personally by the solitary confinement along with scholars and researchers trumped any potential salient comebacks or logical retorts—the man literally fell apart on the stand, at times stuttering; he was so ridiculous especially when asked by Ms. Mitchell to explain the arbitrary and unconstitutional process called: debriefing or snitching. What came out was that CDCR operates its own court system, outside California’s legal judicial system, sentencing and prosecuting inmates without due process —CDCR operates its own court and does as it pleases. There were several comments by Assemblymembers Mitchell and Skinner regarding the appeal process when one is said to be a “gang” member and sent to the SHU. When asked about this anonymous process where the convicted person has no opportunity to address or refute the accuser or the alleged accusation, Kernan admitted when questioned that nothing is going to change, if at all, anytime soon. I wondered at the futility of the entire legislative hearing process and could certainly see a reinstatement of the fast. Prisoners were waiting to see what CDCR meant by negotiations—absolutely nothing! Attendees seemed elated, but CDCR admitted to no wrong doing and to no concrete action. What one sees is how powerful, arrogant and out of control CDCR is. What does one do with a mad dog department? Dismantle it before it does more harm. I wonder if Assemblyman Tom Ammiano’s Committee could force Gov. Brown to fire everyone starting with Cade and Kernan?

Again, it was the uninterrupted procession of voices from the audience: children, parents, friends and advocates that eloquently closed the day. One woman spoke of how CDCR denied her brother from donating his kidney to his sister, a match. The sister subsequently died. In the SHU for 19 years, this same inmate's mother has dementia from stress. He was put in the SHU for sending his family literature. Another woman talked about a point system which when tallied results in a SHU sentence. A point includes banned literature.

One terminally ill prisoner was promised a phone call and then at the last minute stipulations were given that he had to debrief first. A daughter wants a photo of her dad in the SHU; she was three when he went in. Initially, he was on the mainline; now the family has to drive 14 hours for a 1 1/2 hour visit on the weekends, Saturday and Sunday. Two women, one an attorney, were able to share first hand stories and relay messages from the men, whom they’d seen just a week ago. One of the requests was for better more nutritious food from vendors, tapes for mental health, proctors for educational exams, and a larger property allowance—now the men can only have one shoebox full of personal belongings.

Dr.Kupers, an authority on the mental health affects of solitary confinement, spoke about the supermax prison phenomena born in the 1980s which gave birth to 21 Pelican Bays between the late 1980-1990s—as a failed experiment. So under the radar was this new type of prison that in 1989 when Pelican Bay opened equipped with 1,056 cells “explicitly designed to keep California’s allegedly worse of the worse prisoners in long-term solitary confinement –8 X 10 foot cells made of smooth, poured concrete, no windows just 24-hour fluorescent light, food delivered through a slot in the door,” legislators weren’t aware until they received letters and legal complaints in the early ‘90s . I remember a 60 Minutes episode that showed a mentally ill prisoner, Vaughn Dortch who’d smeared feces all over himself dragged by guards from his cell and thrown into a tub of scalding water. His burns were so severe the guards jokingly called him a “white boy” (From Keramet Reiter, Ph.D. candidate, “A Brief History of Pelican Bay”).

The psychiatrist gave examples of prison programs that reduce violence such as one in Mississippi where officials reduced cells from 1000 to 200 in their SHU populations. “Ohio did the same thing, with similar results. In Indiana and Mexico prisoners are sentenced at most to six months and then given options to leave—programs that integrate them successfully back into society—prison society. This in itself is strange—acclimate someone to captivity—sounds like a wild animal at a zoo or in a circus (which is why I am not going to anymore circuses).

Suicide for people in the SHU is twice as high. An example was given of a man who asphyxiated recently on toilet tissue. “Despair breeds suicide,” Dr. Kupers said. “Dead time. The SHU is adding to an increase in violence. People leave the SHU (maladjusted, perhaps angry) and go back into general population—there is a lot of violence at Pelican Bay – one could get killed on the yard. These policies can be traced to the war on drugs or the Reagan-Clinton era war on black people and the increased prison population then up to the current trend that looks less at rehabilitation and more at punishment (Michelle Alexander The New Jim Crow). I don’t recall the panelists bringing up the ever privatization of the prison system either, which I think is unregulated.

Assemblywoman Skinner asked about the human cost of prisoners locked in the SHU and the monetary costs compared to execution. With an average of about $49,000 a year, Ms. Magnani stated that the SHU is a higher end prisoner ($56,000).

With the A-Team already leading the charge into overtime the further public comments included: a school teacher representing 1100 teachers and counselors in the Pejaro area of California offered their support. A family member spoke of Brian, who was on the hunger strike—he has been in the SHU for ten years, incarcerated at 25, now 38; a woman spoke of her husbands 22 years in the SHU; James Harris, a social worker said the SHU was an attack on the working class and terrorism; Gale Brown, a part of Life Support Alliance has a brother in the SHU for 25 years. He is 65 years old. She asked: “How does the ‘R’ play out in CDCR?” A former battered woman spoke of her brother in the SHU for ten years now. Many people read letters into the record for SHU inmates like the prisoner whose first time in the SHU was in 1970, for 4 years and then again 1989 to now. He asked for better vendors so they have healthier choices. He hasn’t been able to have visits since then either. He asked for more than one box for belongings, to be able to send a photo to family at least once and year and to be able to have family photos. He also asked for mental health videos. Someone mentioned “The Lucifer Effect,” I found out later was a book. The next woman has two brothers in the SHU; still another woman, a third year law student said her brother was debriefed for having a book by George Jackson. The policy director of for mental health for the Probation Department in Alameda County spoke as well as Carol Stickman, Staff Attorney for LSPC and Carol Shane, policy director for LSPC. Mothers spoke about their children who are languishing in the SHU. One mother has been denied and denied and denied visiting rights and still another mother didn’t know what the SHU meant and now that she does, she is terrified for her son who is being moved there soon. Jack Bryson spoke of Kevin Cooper, on death row, whom he has been visiting for many years. Cooper who hasn’t seen the sun or stars for 24 years paints them. One woman said she was afraid to say her brother’s name. Her mom died and she hasn’t seen her brother’s face in 14 years. Her brother had been in the SHU for 19 years. Marilyn Smith from All of Us or None said, “We are dying.” Ann, an attorney spoke about the pipeline between validated school age children and adult prisoners. “SHU residents are the leaders inside,” Valerie stated about her 20 year old son whose father is in the SHU. The ANSWER Coalition was in the room, on the mic, as were people from Critical Resistance like Jay who just returned from Uganda and Rwanda. The issue of trans-people was raised, a population that is especially vulnerable. Ammiano mentioned a bill related to this issue that had been vetoed that he was looking to reintroduce. Marilyn McMann from CA Prison Focus suggested we look at the issue of “profit vs. people” and that we should take our concerns to the UN.” The prison system yield annually $180 million dollars, she stated. This is the real threat to public safety.

I wished I’d been able to get over to the Crocker Museum to unwind, reflect and process the experience—as it is, I sat in a TJ parking lot, writing under a street lamp, my car light shorted out.

The CDC tacks on the R—when the idea of rehabilitation in an environment structured to inspire fear is ridiculous. The questions Assemblywoman Holly Mitchell raised about the arbitrary nature of CDCR policies as relates to SHU inmates were on point and showed how out of control this California department is. At the rally when I spoke to the Assemblyman he said he was determined to host other such conversations, like one already on the death penalty. He said, he didn’t think there were two sides and that he wanted to shine some light on the subject and get people to start discussing this issue and coming up with remedies that (legislators) could push forward. He said he didn’t “want to be stonewalled too much—I understand things move a little slowly but I don’t want to be put off, so I plan to have other hearings, report back hearings (addressing) any commitment to change from the CDCR. We are looking at this (Hearing) as the very first step.”

Ammiano legislative policy supporters Skinner and Mitchell and Hagman gave strong comments and asked tough questions of Scott Kernan. We hope this hearing touched as the Chair said, the compassionate side of people in the room with the hope that change is not up to CDCR (smile). We also hope the next hearing is at Pelican Bay in Crescent City.

To stay abreast of Pelican Bay news check out: http://prisonerhungerstrikesolidarity.wordpress.com and also check out several special shows on Wanda's Picks radio featuring Dorsey Nunn along with a mother, Dolores Canales whose son is in the SHU, Elder Freeman, Manuel La Fontaine, Linda Evans and Deirdre Wilson. Linda was the emcee at the rally August 23. Another recent interview is with LSPC attorney Carol Strickman: www.wandaspicks.asmnetwork.org

Wednesday morning, 6:30-8:30 AM will be a broadcast of the public comment portion of the Hearings on Wanda's Picks Radio.

Maafa 2011: Hurricane Katrina at Joyce Gordon Gallery

2011-08-28T20:37:00.000-07:00

This afternoon the gallery was full as poets shared their work in honor of the survivors of Hurricane Katrina six years later. CeCe Campbell Rock just back from visiting her husband in New Orleans updated us on the legal haggling in place that keeps survivors from accessing the type of resources that would enable them to get back in their homes. After the program, CeCe spoke of how her home was sold for back taxes $300, the letter sent to a wrong address. This was three years ago. If she hadn't found out, in December she and her family would have lost their home as homeowners have three years to contest the purchase.

Lewis Watts, photographer, shared work from an upcoming book about New Orleans--his work made the comments and poetry tangible as we looked at the faces of adults and children, just a year after Katrina at the first Mardi Gras and the Essence Music Festival.

Opal Palmer Adisa and devorah major, Daughters of Yam, were extraordinary individually and collectively-the more searing poem about the Maafa. As they read people were encouraged to moan--chains and rain sticks passed from one person to another.

QR Hand and Charles Blackwell were also phenomenal. In fact, everyone was--Karla's poem for her daughter Asa, really sweet--a poem about loss really transition, acceptance and letting go.

Cake, Karla's Birthday Cake put smiles on many faces as people purchased some of the many books for sale like Furaha Youngblood's Cat-Eyed Woman from Louisiana. Tennessee Reed and her dad, Ismael Reed were in the audience, Tennessee shared work from an upcoming volume. Babies and little ones tottled around the gallery--Visual Word: Poetry through Photography having its closing reception as well this afternoon.

It was a busy day in the neighborhood (smile) with Ericka Huggins and Bobbie Seale next door, but as a wise person told me once: There are always enough people to go around. I hope Kevin Epps screening of the film about the Mardi Gras Indians went well too.

We raised over $300 as hoped which will be divided between the two organizations: Common Ground Health Clinic and LIFE of Mississippi, the Biloxi site. If you are ever in New Orleans, visit CGHC which is in Algiers (on the West Bank). Ask for Meshawn. If in Jackson, certainly pop into the main offices there and ask for Josh and Christy. In Biloxi ask for Bobbie. They would be happy to meet you.

Photos: TaSin Sabir

Wanda's Picks: Year Six, Annual Hurricane Katrina Report Back

2011-08-26T10:14:00.000-07:00

Guests:
Sheila Phipps, artist, speaks about her son, No Limit Rapper, "Mac," who is serving 30 years, and her art currently at Sandra Berry's Neighborhood Gallery in New Orleans, who she says is innocent. Visit www.free-mac.org

Kenneth Cooper is an independent writer and life-long resident of New Orleans. He recently graduated from the University of New Orleans (UNO) in 2008 with a degree in English and has his work published in the New Orleans Review, the Alternet, Sync504, and the New Orleans Examiner.

Meshawn Tarver: New Executive Director, Common Ground Health Clinic, graduated from Xavier University of Louisiana and went on to graduate from George Washington University with a Masters in Public Health. After her graduate studies, Meshawn returned to New Orleans and worked as the Senior Program Coordinator for Breastfeeding at Tulane Xavier National Center of Excellence in Women’s Health where she developed various breastfeeding programs educating the community, workplaces, health care providers and medical and public health students. In particular she developed a lay health education program called the Mommy and Mentor Alliance (MAMA).

Meshawn went on to become the Louisiana Statewide Breastfeeding Peer Counselor Supervisor for the Louisiana WIC Program and formed the Greater New Orleans Breastfeeding Awareness Coalition which has blossomed to initiate a statewide breastfeeding coalition and other regional coalitions.

Later she worked as the Director of Administration and Operations with the Youth Empowerment Project where she was instrumental in starting an educational program, NOPLAY, for at-risk and out-of school youth ages 16-24 with the goal of serving only 40 youth a year but grew to serve over 200 in the first year and over 400 in subsequent years with a budget ten times larger.

In June 2010 Meshawn became Executive Director of Common Ground Health Clinic (CGHC), a patient centered integrated medical home, serving the underinsured and uninsured population. CGHC also provides herbal medicine, acupuncture, women’s wellness group and broad array of classes including health education, cooking, gardening and art classes.

Meshawn, also a Certified HypnoBirthing Instructor, is married with three daughters who she birth using the natural childbirthing philosophy of HypnoBirthing. She is advocate for maternal and child’s health, healthcare access, youth and economic development.

Parnell Herb, "Poetic Panther," Katrina Survivor, who is on the road to Angola State Prison to visit Zulu, an inmate there. A member of the Coalition to Free the Angola 3, Herb, wrote a play about the Angola 3 which opened in NO two years ago and was recently produced in Houston at the 40th Anniversary of the murder of Carl Hampton, founder of the Black Panther Party affiliate organization, the People's Party 2. His story, edited by D-Ann Penner, Dr. Keith C. Ferdinand, is told in Overcoming Katrina.

Robert H. King, former political prisoner, only free member of the Angola 3, is author of From the Bottom of the Heap: The Autobiography of Black Panther Robert Hillary King, with an introduction by Dr. Terry Kupers, MD, MSP. Kupers recently testified at the California Legislative Hearing hosted by Assemblyman Tom Ammiano, Assemblymember of the 13th District, Tuesday, Aug. 23, 2011. He spoke to the Research-Based Perspectives on Secure Housing Units or the SHU where inmates at Pelican Bay initiated a hunger strike for more humane and just treatment July 1-20, 2011. Their five basic demands have still not been met and from the statements made by CDCR representatives that same afternoon, the demands if met, will not be met any time soon. I expect a resumption of the strike. For people who are interested, I suggest you visit the website: http://solitarywatch.com/2011/08/24/historic-california-assembly-hearing-on-solitary-confinement/

Aaron Viles is the deputy director of the Gulf Restoration Network, the only non profit environmental advocacy group with an exclusive focus on the Gulf of Mexico. Based in New Orleans, Aaron leads GRN’s response to the BP drilling disaster and the organization’s efforts to protect and restore coastal habitats throughout the Gulf. Dan, joins us in Aaron's place.

The second half of the program is a discussion with actors: L. Peter Callendar (Red Carter), Charles Branklyn (Hedley), and Shinelle Azoroh (Ruby), who are in the Marin Theatre Company production of August Wilson's Seven Guitars, up through September 11, 2011. Visit www.marintheatre.org or call (415)388-5208.

Check out the review published posted earlier this month: http://wandasabir.blogspot.com/2011/08/seven-guitars-reflection.html

Music played this show were Somi's "When the Rain Comes" and Babatunde Olatunde Lea's title track on "Umbo Weti: Tribute to Leon Thomas."

Oakland Remembers Katrina Survivors at the Closing of Visual Word: Poetry through Photography

2011-08-25T18:46:00.000-07:00

Silence the Violence Day, August 25, 2011

2011-08-25T18:45:00.001-07:00

Wanda's Picks Radio August 24, 2011

2011-08-24T06:10:00.001-07:00

Rebroadcast interview with Michelle Alexander: The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colonialism and interviews with Joanna Haigood and visual artist Charles Trapolin, re: their collaboration with premiered earlier this year: The Monkey and the Devil. Visit http://www.ybca.org/content/zaccho-dance-theatre-monkey-and-devil

Bayview–based choreographer Joanna Haigood explores present–day species of racism with The Monkey and the Devil, a continuously running performance installation uniting dance and theater during which audience members are free to navigate the Forum.

Taking its title from ethnic slurs, The Monkey and the Devil investigates the rise of a contemporary, racism rooted in the lasting effects of America's slave trade. Echoing an earlier time, today's cultural figures unwittingly rehash old race–based arguments, updated for today's eyes and ears. Two massive, rotating set pieces, designed by visual artist Charles Trapolin, represent this duality. Their opposition recalls Abraham Lincoln's New Testament–quoting declaration foreshadowing the abolition of slavery, 'A house divided against itself cannot stand.' Even today, Americans grapple with re–uniting a split house, with these artifacts of slavery.

Music: CHELLE! and Friends, who commemorate the music of Mardi Gras, New Orleans, and celebrates its Creole people and their remarkable music.

Announcements: Words Upon the Waters: A Gulf Coast Update and Fundraiser is Sunday, August 28, 2011, 2-5 PM at Joyce Gordon Gallery, 406 14th Street, Oakland. There will be poetry, a film screening and current information on what's happening in New Orleans and Mississippi.

Congratulations to Francisco Torres, SF8 member, whose charges were dropped and who is now free. Torres was the last member of the SF8 who was being prosecuted. Visit http://revolutionaryfrontlines.wordpress.com/2011/08/20/cisco-torres-is-free-of-all-charges-in-the-sf8-case/

Thanks to the brave and courageous men who called the hunger strike July 1, 2011 at Pelican Bay to protest their inhumane treatment and to the Hon. Tom Ammiano, Chair, Assemblymember, Thirteenth District, California Legislature, for hosting the Policy Review of the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation Secure Housing Unit(SHU), Tuesday, August 23, 2011. We will broadcast testimony from the public comment part of the meeting next Wednesday.

Excerpts from the writings of George Jackson

2011-08-21T17:23:00.000-07:00

There is a commemorative event at East Side Arts Cultural Center today, 4:30-8 PM). Listen to Wanda's Picks August 21, 2009 & August 17, 2011: wandaspicks.asmnetwork.org

August 21, 2011 (compiled by Kiilu Nyasha)

Today, August 21, 2011, marks the 40th anniversary of the assassination of our beloved Comrade George Lester Jackson. Here are more quotes from his two books, the first was the bestseller, Soledad Brother: the Prison Letters of George Jackson and Blood In My Eye, published after his death. It’s remarkable that these statements are as pertinent today as they were 40 years ago, perhaps more so.

“The blanket indictment of the white [so-called] race has done nothing but perplex us, inhibit us. The theory that all whites are the immediate enemy and all blacks our brothers (making them loyal) is silly and indicative of a lazy mind (to be generous, since it could be a fascist plot). It doesn’t explain the black pig; there were six on the Hampton-Clark kill. It doesn’t explain the black paratroopers (just more pigs) who put down the great Detroit riot, and it doesn’t explain the pseudo-bourgeois who can be found almost everywhere in the halls of government working for white supremacy, fascism and capitalism” (Soledad Brother p221-222)
(From Blood in My Eye, p 4-5)

“You must teach that socialism-communalism is as old as man; that its principles formed the basis of mostly all the East African cultures (there was no word to denote possession in the original East African tongues). The only independent African societies today are socialistic. Those which allowed capitalism to remain are still neo-colonies. Any black who would defend an African military dictatorship is as much a fascist as Hoover.

“….there are only two ways by which societies can ever be governed and organized for production of their needs: the various types of totalitarian methods represented by assorted capitalist and fascist arrangements, and the egalitarian method. Egalitarianism is people’s government and people’s government and economics is socialism, dialectical and materialist. How else can societies be governed? There must be hierarchies or the elimination of hierarchies.”

"All political parties, as things stand, will support the power complex. Any individual elected will either be a supporter of the established politics -- or an 'individual.' What would help us, in fact, is to allow as many right-wing elements as possible to assume 'political' power. ...The fascists already have power. The point is that some way must be found to expose them and combat them. An electoral choice of ten different fascists is like choosing which way one wishes to die. The holder of so-called high public office is always merely an extension of the hated ruling corporate class. It is to our benefit that this person be openly hostile, despotic, unreasoning. [my emphasis] We are not living in a nation where left-wing parties hold eighty out of two hundred seats in a congressional body...This is a huge nation dominated by the most reactionary and violent ruling class in the history of the world, where the majority of the people just simply cannot understand that they are existing on the misery and discomfort of the world." (Blood In My Eye p 71-72)

“The corporative state allows for no genuinely free political opposition. They only allow meaningless gatherings where they can pant more spies than participants. They feel secure in their ability to mold the opinion of a people interested only in wages. However, real revolutionary activity will draw panic-stricken gunfire. Or heart attacks.

“So what is to be done after a revolution has failed? After our enemies have created a conservative mass society based on meaningless electoral politics, spectator sports, and a 3 percent annual rise in purchasing power strictly regulated to negate itself with a corresponding rise in the cost of living. …What can we do with a people who have gone through he authoritarian process and come out sick to the core!!!

“Our overall task is to separate the people from the hated state. They must be made to realize that the interests of the state and the ruling class are one and the same. They must be taught to realize that the present political regime exists only to balance the productive forces within the society in favor of the ruling class. It is at the ruling class and the governing elites, including those of labor, that we must aim our bolts.”

(Blood in My Eye, p 174-5).

"Black capitalism, black against itself. The silliest contradiction in a long train of spineless, mindless contradictions. Another painless, ultimate remedy: be a better fascist than the fascist. Bill Cosby, acting out the establishment agent -- what message was this soul brother conveying to our children? I Spy [the sixties TV program where he played a CIA agent's subordinate] was certainly programmed to a child's mentality. This running dog in the company of a fascist with a cause, a flunky's flunky, was transmitting the credo of the slave to our youth, the mod version of the old house nigger. We can never learn to trust as long as we have them. They are as much a part of the repression, more even than the real live rat-informer-pig. Aren't they telling our kids that it is romantic to be a running dog? The kids are so hungry to see the black male do some shooting and throw some hands that they can't help themselves from identifying with the quislings. So first they turn us against ourselves, precluding all possibility of trust, then fascism takes any latent divisible forces and develops them into divisions in fact: racism, nationalism, religions."

“So what’s happening with a guy who says he is for us but not against the government? Or one who says he’s for us and against all whites – except the ones who may kick his ass? There is a great deal of cowardice and treachery and confusion here. The black bourgeoisie (pseudo-bourgeoisie), the right reverends, the militant opportunists, have left us in a quandary, rendered us impotent. How ridiculous we must seem to the rest of the black world when we beg the government to investigate their own protective agencies. Aren’t the wild hip-shooting pigs loose among us to protect the property rights of the people who formed the government? “

"International capitalism cannot be destroyed without the extremes of struggle. The entire colonial world is watching the blacks inside the U.S., wondering and waiting for us to come to our senses. Their problems and struggles with the Amerikan monster are much more difficult than they would be if we actively aided them. We are on the inside. We are the only ones (besides the very small white minority left) who can get at the monster's heart without subjecting the world to nuclear fire. We have a momentous historical role to act out if we will. The whole world for all time in the future will love us and remember us as the righteous people who made it possible for the world to live on.”

“The capitalist Eden fits my description of hell. To destroy it will require cooperation and communication between our related parts; communion between colony and colony, nation and nation. The common bond will be the desire to humble the oppressor, the need to destroy capitalist man and his terrible, ugly machine. If there were any differences between us in the black colony and the peoples of other colonies across the country, around the world, we should be willing to forget them in the desperate need for coordination against Amerikan fascism.

“We must accept the spirit of the true internationalism called for by Comrade Che Guevara….We need allies, we have a powerful enemy who cannot be defeated without an allied effort! The enemy at present is the capitalist system and its supporters. Our prime interest is to destroy them. Anyone else with this same interest must be embraced, we must work with, beside, through, over, under anyone, regardless of his or her external physical features, whose aim is the same as ours in this. Capitalism must be destroyed, and after it is destroyed, if we find we still have problems, we’ll work them out. That is the nature of life, struggle, permanent revolution; that is the situation we were born into. There are other peoples on this earth. In denying their existence and turning inward in our misery and accepting any form of racism we are taking on the characteristic of our enemy. We are resigning ourselves to defeat. For in forming a conspiracy aimed at the destruction of the system that holds us all in the throes of a desperate insecurity we must have coordinating elements connecting us and our moves to the moves of the other colonies, the African colonies, those in Asia and Latin Amerika, in Appalachia and the south-western bean fields.

“We must establish a true internationalism with other anticolonial peoples. Then we will be on the road of the true revolutionary. Only then can we expect to seize the power that is rightfully ours, the power to control the circumstances of our day-to-day lives.

“The fascist must expand to live. Consequently, he had pushed his frontiers to the farthest lands and peoples. This is an aspect of his being, an ungovernable compulsion. This perverted mechanical monster suffers from a disease that forces him to build ugly things and destroy beauty wherever he finds it.

“We must fall on our enemies, the enemies of all righteousness, with a ruthless relentless will to win! History sweeps on, we must not let it escape our influence this time!!!!”

(Soledad Brother: The Prison Letters of George Jackson, p 202-204, Bantam Ed., pub. 10/70)

Emerge: 7 Women, 7 Stools

2011-08-20T23:54:00.000-07:00

Though playwright Lady Kitty Griffin says her work was inspired by Ntozake Shange's For Colored Girls, Griffin takes a fresh look at women's stories, as her 7 Women sing, dance and talk us though some of the more difficult moments like a cancer or HIV diagnosis, a daughter's addiction, a child's rape, an abused wife and child, a star crossed lover. Music opens the door on other lives in the brownstone and perhaps in the neighborhood.

Eve Ensler also came to mind, but nope the only similarities are the stools and the women and the fact that these are also oft unheard stories, stories of sorrow and triumph. Certainly there are consequences and Griffin and co-writer, Delilah Rashell do not sugarcoat the irreversible effects of some of these fatal moves, but despite all of this one finds herself rooting for the home team--those seven women--often seated so they don't fall. We want them to pull through: the housewife, the hustler, the cancer patient, the grandmother, the college student, and the preacher's wife.

Black Rep was full, not an easy feat Saturday night, a busy night in the San Francisco Bay Area. The beautiful people were out, gorgeous black women who waving lands above their heads stood in the audience, especially during the second Act and praised the lord. Highly participatory Lady Kitty invited us to stand clap, sing and testify.

One knows she's died and gone to the Cabin in the Sky when a white actress sings "Amazing Grace," amazingly. It works so well thematically as the college student has some hard decisions to make. I appreciated the line: One shouldn't make permanent decisions based on a temporary issue. Keep an eye out; the producers would like to bring the play back to the SF Bay for a longer run.

This is not a children's play, although I saw a lot of kids in the audience.

Visit: www.emergetheplay.com

Rally in Sacramento and Legislative Hearing on the CA Prison System re: the Pelican Bay Hunger Strike

2011-08-18T01:22:00.001-07:00

Prisoners throughout the California prison system report that the hunger strike is only suspended, not ended. Please join us in Sacramento next Tuesday, August 23, to support the human rights demands of the Pelican Bay Hunger Strikers.

Public pressure has resulted in a legislative hearing before the Assembly Public Safety Committee on conditions in California state prison Security Housing Units (SHU). The Hunger Strike Solidarity Coalition is mobilizing statewide to pack the hearing room and guarantee that prisoners and their families will be heard.

Carpools will leave the Bay Area from West Oakland BART at two times:
7:30am for people who want to participate in legislative visits
9:30am to attend the rally and public hearing

For more information call Manuel at 415.637.8195 or Linda at 510.219.0297, or go to the website of the Prisoner Hunger Strike Solidarity Coalition.

We'll see you in Sacramento! Thank you for your support.

Seven Guitars Reflection

2011-08-18T00:26:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, August 16, 2011, was the opening of August Wilson's play, "Seven Guitars," directed by Kent Gash, at the Marin Theatre Company." I hadn't seen the play in about 15 years. Wilson was alive then and he was work-shopping his latest (play five in the eventual ten-play cycle) at ACT-SF with Lorraine Hansberry in a co-production. At that time, Steven Anthony Jones, now Artistic Director of Lorraine Hansberry, was King Hedley.

After so long an intermission, MTC's "Seven Guitars" felt like a new play. I am so happy Wilson's Century is in a bound set, so I can easily read my way through "Seven Guitars," which I liked for its opening scene, the repast after a funeral.

Its themes are so timely. I didn't recall all the Garvey references or the references to Jim Crow and black on black violence as a result of the impotence black men feel regarding their inability to change their circumstances. It is a violent play, not just physically--"Seven Guitars" suggests a spiritual violence carried like an unborn child--violence a part of the umbilical fluid.

There are also lots of symbols and rituals--lots of blood sacrifice--lots of chickens. A rooster's head is chopped off on stage. The only problem is I don't know whom the rooster is sacrificed to or to what end, unless it is to wealth and prosperity. If this is the god--then as with all things there is a price.

Does Floyd trade or sell his soul to the devil? What is wrong with wanting to do better economically? Why must prosperity threaten black lives?

There is a prayer said, medicinal herbs planted--Golden Seal, a great antibiotic. There is a tension between folk medicine or herbal remedies and drugs. actress Margo Hall's character "Louise" extols the virtues of modernity, from medicine to alarm clocks. She says "away with the golden seal and roosters," and suggests her neighbor Hedley (actor Charles Branklyn) go to the sanitarium because "they are letting black people in now (to cure TB)." The pros and cons connected to weaponry--knives vs. pistols are also discussed by actor L. Peter Callendar's "Red Carter" who favors a pistol to actor Marc Damon Johnson's "Canewell" who prefers a knife.

The two worlds cannot exist side by side, rather one has to dominate or cast the other out. Red pours libations to the dead before drinking from his friend's flask, and there is a pregnant virgin, a man, instead of a woman. He doesn't know her state, and accepts the child she is carrying as his own. I remember someone saying they are wearing their shoes backward--

August Wilson's Seven Guitars is seeped with themes from the Black Holocaust or Maafa. There is a sense of blindness here, the kind where like Oedipus, we put out our own eyes or vision because we don't want to see, not because we can't. Actor Tobie Windham's "Floyd 'Schoolboy' Barton," the story's protagonist, is a young man who can't read but is full of life and dreams. Floyd is destined for tragedy perhaps because he is so gifted, such a treasure. The character "King Hedley" warns him or warns us, but no one saves Floyd. Is the message here that our bold bright children in harms way cannot be saved--even when we have a running start?

Floyd doesn't listen and ignores warning signs, but then I think Floyd the way Windham plays him, is also innocent and vulnerable. Kids don't listen to elders. Floyd is no exception. The youth have to fall down a few times first. The only problem is for most young black men, once they fall, they don't rise again.

When there is racism the rules are fluid and unclear. How can Floyd know from moment to moment how to avoid society's traps and then it isn't the expected enemy that gets him in the end--it is one of his own.

"Seven Guitars" also speaks to trust; how can we trust each other? Why should we trust each other? Guns are pulled on friends. Friends kill each other in drunken brawls. Blood is so close to the surface.

I wonder why Wilson named this piece "Seven Guitars." Is it for the seven characters, each one an instrument in this symphony orchestra or is it for the seven strings in the instrument: each character a part of the community which is making music or creating life as the cycle of life and death and rebirth continues? No one is independent of the other; without the seven strings there is no guitar, there is no music, there is no life.

I wonder if Linda Tillery, musical director, developed her score with this in mind. There are moments in the work when the music enhances the story--I recall a time when the stage went dark and we heard a harmonica cry. Occasionally the lights play visually with the music going from dim to full stage to spotlights to cascading or rolling lights. The mood created by these two devices is often a visual or aural foreshadowing or enhancement of the action on stage.

Love is a theme as well and the seven strings play each other as they play with each other--a few solos, a refrain or relationships between Floyd and Vera, Ruby and Canewell, Vera and Canewell, Louise and Hedley.

Margo Hall, Shinelle Azoroh, and Omoze Idehenre as August Wilson's women, three in this case, BRING IT! as Hall's more mature "Louise," her niece, "Ruby," the youngster, portrayed by Azoroh, and "Vera," the woman Floyd hurts. Idehenre's Vera, loves her man Floyd after his desertion and return despite her better judgement. Canewell, Floyd's band member, also loves Vera, yet he loves her enough to let her go--such a beautiful moment in the play. How many of us are able to free that which he wants so much to hang on to?

This play is so much about liberation and freedom as it is about finding the moments between pain and sorrow to love and laugh. "Seven Guitars," though the play opens on a repast or meal after a funeral, is anything but sad. It is just one of our stories, one of the many stories black people have lived over the past 100 years documented by Wilson in his ten play cycle.

The company's artistic director, Jasson Minidakis, wanted to try a different approach to Wilson, to interrupt the classical feel to the work--take it out of sitcom or cinema mode and make it more abstract and ethereal. In this way, the work reminded me structurally of MTC's production last season, "In the Red & Brown Water." Just as place was central to this one of Tarell Alvin McCraney's plays, the same is true of Wilson's "Guitars" which takes place in the backyard in the Hill District in Pittsburgh, Wilson's home. ("Red and Brown," New Orleans's references, McCraney's home).

"Red & Brown" is the first story in McCraney's loosely knit trilogy, "Guitars" a linchpin in the loosely connected stories that proceeded it and follow, "Ma Rainey's Black Bottom," which looks at the Chicago music industry and its exploitation or attempted exploitation of Ma Rainey, and King Hedley II, the story that looks at what happens when the unborn baby grows up.

"Seven Guitars" is up through Sept. 4, 2011 (now Sept. 11, 2011) at the Marin Theatre Company, 397 Miller Avenue, Mill Vallery, CA, (415) 388-5208, www.marintheatre.org.

Happy Birthday Marcus Garvey!

2011-08-17T23:32:00.000-07:00

Today on Wanda's Picks Radio Show," we honored the memory of the first Pan Africanist, the Honorable Marcus Mosiah Garvey. Born in St.Anne’s Bay, Jamaica, August 17, 1887, Garvey is a treasure whom black people world wide do not know. Opening with a recorded speech where Garvey talks about his organization, the Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA). When I think about what is wrong in the world, more specifically the ills plaguing black communities, the poorer and less developed areas in one of the richest nations in the world, it is the absence of this historic lesson Garvey stood for and continues to stand for, that makes the remedy so expensive when folk-medicine is a surer and more effective cure.

Our kids don’t do better, because they don’t know any better, nor do their parents. We have multiple generations who are as the Honorable Elijah Muhammad stated, “dead to the knowledge of self.” If one doesn’t know oneself Garvey says he or she will continue to be duped. It is not by chance that we are not prospering. It is not a surprise that all resistance is being squashed whether it is in Britain or in East Oakland.

In 1921 Garvey spoke of a New Negro, decades later African in America speak of a New Afrikan and a Republic of New Africa.

Garvey says: “That we suffer so much today under whatsoever flag we live is proof positive that constitutions and laws, when framed by the early advocates of human liberty, never included and were never intended for us as a people. It is only a question of sheer accident that we happen to be fellow citizens today with the descendants of those who, through their advocacy, laid the foundation for human rights.

“The white man has succeeded in subduing the world by forcing everybody to think his way. The white man’s propaganda has made him the master of the world. And those who have come in contact with it and accepted it have become his slaves.

“They subjugate first, if the weaker peoples will stand for it; then exploit, and if they will not stand for SUBJUGATION nor EXPLOITATION, the other recourse is EXTERMINATION”

“Liberate the minds of men and ultimately you will liberate the bodies of men.”

See http://africanamericanquotes.org/marcus-garvey.html
For recorded speeches of Garvey visit: http://www.international.ucla.edu/africa/mgpp/sound.asp
For the radio show broadcast: Visit www.wandaspicks.asmnetwork.org (August 17, 2011)
More scholarly work: http://www.international.ucla.edu/africa/mgpp/lifeintr.asp

Pelican Bay Haiku by devorah major

2011-08-04T14:21:00.000-07:00

Notes on Torture & Survival

six feet by ten feet
wider than a lead coffin
no natural light

sometimes only darkness
a punishment for surviving
so many shades of black

or weeks of light bulb
days have no rhythm but howls
torture knows no clocks

twenty three hours
every day alone boxed
one hour to breathe wind

will a cloud drift by
a patch of summer blue sky
a black bird’s feather

perhaps tomorrow
arc of sun will show itself
kiss your skin golden

Wanda's Picks Special: Blacks on Bikes

2011-08-04T08:27:00.000-07:00

Nelson Vails, Olympian Silver Medalist and Anthony Taylor, Vice President of the National Brotherhood of Cyclists, join us on the air before they head to Oakland for the AUG. 4 to 7, 2011 for the Major Taylor Cycling Summit, San Francisco/Oakland Bay Area at the Marriott Hotel. We speak for almost an hour about the history of blacks on bikes in this country & Marshall W. "Major" Taylor a little known pioneer in the sport in 1899. It takes Vails, 110 years later to bring the notion or connection between blacks and bikes, blacks and the environment, blacks and healthy living, full circle. Vails will give a keynote address: "Nelson “Unveiled. 'Life in the Fast Lane: America’s First Ambassador of Cycling.'" Major Taylor died relatively unknown at the age of 53 in Chicago. Later his remains were exhumed and he was given a proper burial in a more prominent area of the Mt. Glenwood Cemetery. Anthony Taylor says he made a pilgrimage to Chicago. I forgot to ask about the "Taylor" surname--any relation (smile). The connection while obvious is even more remarkable when one learns that Major Taylor is the inspiration for NBC's founding in 2008, the same year the first statue for a person of color was unveiled in Major Taylor's Worchester, Mass., home (May 28). Nelson Vails was present at this great event. Listen to the program at http://www.majortaylorassociation.org/events/2008may21.shtml Visit http://www.thenbc.org/Summit2011

Kenny Hawkins joins us to talk about his "Groovin’ Deep Project's upcoming concert this weekend, August 6, 2011, 6:30-10:30 PM at Cerruti Cellars at 100 Webster Street @ Embarcadero West Oakland, CA. The ensemble features: Michael Parsons on piano, Jeff Chambers on bass, Leon Joyce on drums and Kenny Hawkins on sax and flute along with special guest vocalists Nicolas Bearde and Terrie Odabie.

California Prisoner Hunger Strike Action in Sacramento Carpool information

2011-07-24T11:46:00.000-07:00

On Monday, 7/25 from noon-4pm in Sacramento, family members, community based organizations, and community members from around the state are mobilizing to support the ongoing California Prisoner Hunger Strike!

* Meet in Sacramento at Fremont Park (on 15th St., b/w Q & P Streets) @ 11:30 a.m.

* March to CDCR headquarters (1515 S. Street) and rally from noon-2pm.

* March to State Building to deliver organizational letter to Governor Jerry Brown's office from 2-4pm.

*Please note that this will be a PEACEFUL, non-arrestable action.

Please take the time to forward this email to all of your contacts, and continue to call CDCR and Governor Brown demanding more humane treatment of prisoners across California.

For more information, please check the Prisoner Hunger Strike Solidarity Blog or call (510) 444-0484.

BAY AREA Ride-share: Meet at West Oakland BART at 9:30am, rides will be leaving at 10 a.m. If you have a car & want to offer rides, or if you need a ride, please contact Lisa Roellig:lisaroellig@ gmail.com 415-238-1801 (cell).

Write & Call Governor Jerry Brown and your elected officials and urge them to pressure the CDCR to negotiate with the prisoners and honor their demands!:

Governor Jerry Brown, State Capitol, Suite 1173, Sacramento, CA 95814, Phone: (916) 445-2841. Send Gov Brown emails: http://govnews.ca.gov/gov39mai l/mail.php

To look up your state legislature:

http://www.congress.org/congressorg/dbq/officials

Sample Script for Phone Calls:

“Hi my name is _________ and I live your district. I’m calling about the statewide prisoner hunger strike that began at Pelican Bay. I support the prisoners & their reasonable “five core demands.” I am alarmed by the rapidly deteriorating medical conditions of the hunger strikers & the inaction of the CDCR. I urge you to visit the hunger strikers, and make sure the CDCR negotiates with the prisoners and the outside mediation team the prisoners have approved, immediately & in good faith, before prisoners are force-fed or even die. Thank you.”

“My name is _____. I support the reasonable “five core demands” of the hunger striking prisoners. I urge you to become involved or to direct Secretary Cate to negotiate with the prisoners immediately & in good faith. During this crisis and afterward, the prisoners' human and civil rights must be respected. Thank you.”

Make Calls and Write Letters to:

Secretary Matthew Cate, Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation, 1515 S Street, Sacramento 95814, Phone: (916) 323-6001

CDCR Public Affairs Office: (916)445-4950

Public safety committee website: http://spsf.senate.ca.gov/

PBSP Warden Greg Lewis: 707-465-1000 x 9040; and Ombudsman Ralyn Conner: 916-324-6123

IF BUSY, please Call The Public Safety Committee:

Senator Loni Hancock - (Chair), Capitol Office Phone: (916) 651-4009, District Office Phone: (510) 286-1333

Senator Joel Anderson- (Vice Chair), Capitol Office Phone: (916) 651-4036, El Cajon District Office Phone: (619) 596-3136, Temecula District Office phone: (916) 651-4036

Senator Roderick Wright: Capitol office Phone: (916) 651-4025, District Office Phone:(310) 412-0393, Long Beach District Office: (562) 427-1028

Public Safety Standing Committee of Assembly

Tom Ammiano (Chair), (415) 557-3013, (916)319-2013

Steve Knight- (Vice Chair), (916) 319-2036, (661) 267-7636, (760) 843-8045

Call Out Terry Thornton on her lies! , 916-324-4590... http://ontheblockradio.blogspot.com/2011/07/pelican-bay-state-prison-hunger-strike.html

Hunger Strike for Justice con't. Protest Monday, July 25, 2011 in Sacramento, Letters from Inmates

2011-07-24T09:54:00.000-07:00

Hunger Striker’s at Tehachapi still need our help!

CCI Tehachapi
July 21, 2011

Dear Brooke,

(Regarding this hunger strike) I am glad the word is out, I'm just saddened that I don't see anything on the news of our struggle. As far as we last heard it’s been like 12 prisons that are involved. Here there are a lot of people on strike - all races, Pelican Bay and Corcoran for sure.

As far as commissary, that's a negative. It is CDC policy to search our cells and remove all store when hunger strikes begin, and they did so here.

All they do is weigh us and take our vitals (blood pressure, temp., and heart rate), but of course they weigh us in chains to weigh us down and they allow the c/o's to operate the scale. I am at 171 on my last weigh-in, down from 185. They attempt to take my blood, which I refuse; I'm weak as it is, if I do that I’ll fall out.

They truly don't care and they are perfectly content in watching us pass rather than admit fault and make changes to a policy that is brutal and baseless. I can’t take my medication anymore because I have to take it with food… I asked for help and they just ignored me.

They also took my shoes when I got here and my feet hurt. (*He had only been at CCI 2 weeks before the strike started, and he was never given any shoes!)

Help get the truth out there. I pray some attorneys get involved. Let them know the CDC is without truth and will lie to keep this issue from ever getting coverage. I am here validated for no actual action. This policy of validating people for no reason robs us of our lives, so we are on a hunger strike in which we could pass because in this environment we've already passed. This is not a life.

I have no food and no meds (that I can take). All they do is weigh me. They don't treat us (example; Ensure, Gatorade, nutrients of some sort). Nothing.

So I remain strong in the hopes that change will come. I get sad when I watch the news and they talk about stuff with no meaning and ignore us. I am an American citizen and when enemy combatants in Guantanamo Bay had a strike they covered it, all networks, beginning to end, but we are just forgotten.

Contact all media networks and let them know this is a peaceful protest and we have been given no other option for relief rather than to hunger strike in the hopes that someone, ANYONE, will care enough to step in and help us.

One might think that us as prisoners must be held under duress and extreme conditions in order to refuse the most basic necessity; food. I choose to remain on strike for I have been robbed of my life, my ability to be a father to my son, a son to my parents, a lover to my love, a friend to friends, and to experience life in the minimum of its meaning.

I was sentenced to life in prison at 18 for an action I committed, but now I am validated for no actual action committed by me. And I’ll be held here in the SHU until I die or debrief. Just imagine if anyone out there could be put in jail just for someone’s accusation. It’s unheard of. But in here its common practice for we are forgotten. We are the tragic aftermath of an angry committee.

Some believe we don't deserve common decency or compassion because we didn't show any when we committed our crime. To those people I say, in life wrongs are committed. I don't justify anything. But this country was founded on mass genocide and yet that is forgotten.

Now that civil rights have passed the oppression that must be has moved behind these walls of the new “concrete slave ship".

I am only a man who prays that I will be judged by my actions and my disciplinary file, not by the words of faceless informants and a confidential file that I can’t see. We must defend ourselves against the unknown. It’s literally impossible.
My feet still walk the trail of tears. I am in my soul still a believer in justice and the good in people. I believe if society really knew what happened in here they'd be appalled.

Visit http://prisonerhungerstrikesolidarity.wordpress.com/why-support-2/havoq-statement-of-support/

http://www.pacificfreepress.com/news/1-/9311-premature-release-over-not-over-california-officials-pronouncement-on-end-of-prison-hunger-strikes-false-testimony.html

Fascinating Woman: Sister Karimah Ali makes her transition

2011-07-02T16:22:00.000-07:00

Yesterday my friend and I attended the first of two memorials for our friend and brother in faith and the fight for justice for African people, Nashid Hakim Ahmad, born, William Alfred Jones, December 4, 1939 to June 26, 2011 in College Park, Georgia to William Lawrence Jones (deceased) and Annie Mae Jones.

I'd never been to The Neptune Society Columbarium before. It reminded me of the Palace of Fine Arts, the domed roof, surrounded by lovely gardens where one could sit and contemplate the life of the deceased. Several friends spoke and my friend, Larry Ukali Johnson Redd, officiated and offered the prayer.

Son Sulaiman Ahmad and daughters, Munirah Ahmad and Safiya Campbell, grandchildren, sisters, friends and others were present to pay their respects to a man they all loved and honored, as he had honored them with insight and wisdom. Later that evening at Ise Lyfe's play, Pistols and Prayers--the late show, 9 p.m., I spoke to Chriswell Muhammad about the funeral and he also knew our brother, Nashid and spoke about a meeting years ago in Seattle when they last spoke about the deen or religion.

Small world.

I thought as my mind previously racing was able to stop as I listened to what the poet and sage Ise was sharing in his choreopoem--our bodies are God's container.

"I have made the mistakes I have made in my life because I looked for God outside of myself," one character, the more colorful drunken uncle, states.

So I leave past midnight, a few members of the cast walk me to my car and as I drive home I think about what it all means and then later, when I finally awaken from falling asleep at the computer and stumble into my bedroom . . . after that, this afternoon, I look at my multiple messages and find one on top:

Sister Karimah Ali is dead. She died early this morning. I have several messages confirming this one, even after I call her best friend, Sister Nisaa Bismillah who says it's true and to call back this evening to find out about the specifics, such as when they will wash the body and confirm the Wednesday, July 6, 2011, 11 AM, service at Chapel of the Chimes in Hayward on Mission Bell Drive (note the new date). The repast follows immediatelt afterward at the Honorable Elijah Mohammed Cultural Center at 1702 47th Avenue, Oakland, CA.

Fascinating Womanhood

People tell me they are proud of me all the time, my teachers and mentors, people who were so far above and beyond me, I wasn't even aware they knew I was around, let alone that they noticed my work (smile). Brother Nashid told me this, that he was proud of me. My former teachers tell me this all the time and it makes me feel good. Several years ago, Sister Karimah came to my tenure party at Yoshi's to congratulate me. That was a fun night and it was also the last night I saw her alive.

She was a cancer survivor and worked in the county jails with the women and men there after her tenure as captain in the Nation of Islam. I was crossing the street in San Francisco and saw Lee Ann, her daughter, now Aminah, one afternoon, and I saw Karim, her son, one day walking Lake Merritt with his children.

Later I saw Aminah--I called her Lee Ann at Velma's in San Francisco working.

Sister Karimah Ali was fascinating womanhood. Glamorous, she always looked lovely in her MGT garments accessorized with jewelry: necklaces, earrings, bracelets and rings. Her Sunday white was a fashion statement: lace covered satin, both top and bottom. I'd use her as my gage for beauty and would make similar garments myself --a younger soldier, at that time a Vanguard, Junior Lieutenant.

She was a soldier, but one never forgot she was also a woman. Under her headpiece and then fez, one could see her hair was stylish the way she curled her baby hair peeking just below. I don't know if I ever saw her hair, but I knew that I was not to use my hair covering as an excuse to not comb and style my hair (smile).

As a part of our Muslim Girls Training and General Civilization Class (MGT/GCC) trainings on Saturday mornings in San Francisco at Temple 26, we had to read the book, Fascinating Womanhood--Captain Karimah Ali was the book--she exuded all it meant to be both a woman and a Muslim--a black woman who was secure in herself. I watched her wrap the male captain and the minister around her lovely fingertips.

I don't think there was anything she wanted or needed for her crew or the women and girls she didn't get. I don't by any stretch of the imagination think any of this was easy, but she did it and and seemingly never lost her form.

I wonder what it was like for the women she worked with behind bars. What was her impact? I wish we'd talked about this more.

Regrets seem to haunt me.

I knew and loved and grew under the leadership and tenure of many captains, Sister Verna, Sister May Helen, Sister Sadie--each leader different and unique; however, none was as lovely as Sister Karimah Ali--from her sweet voice to her equally sweet personality and demeanor.

Besides Sister Sadie Williams, she is the only captain, whom I saw after the Nation of Islam shifted philosophically when the Honorable Elijah Muhammad died.

Of this I am glad.

In thinking back on the early history of Islam in America and the Muslim presence in the San Francisco Bay Area, I wonder how many women and girls in hijab, who look down on black women Muslims who do not cover, realize how much they owe to those of us who twenty-thirty-forty, maybe fifty years ago wore scarfs and long skirts and were laughed at in class, whose scarfs were yanked and pulled off by classmates who'd heard we were bald underneath?

I remember hating how different I looked, long skirts and long socks, long sleeves even in the summer.

In elementary and junior high school--I didn't have a lot of friends because the cooties were contagious (smile) and who wanted to hang out with a girl who looked so differently. One of the only reasons I was not completely ostracized had to do with the fact that I was smart, as in intelligent, gifted and talented in writing skills . . . maybe math too, but my parents couldn't help me, so it was a challenge which went unaddressed until college.

I now realize that one can master any subject if one has enough practice. The reason why so many African Americans do poorly in math and science is because we don't get enough practice in school or at home as we are growing up. Parents and teachers have to make math and science and writing and reading a part of the day to day activities of each child. I did this with my younger and older children, specifically with TaSin (the younger child) and she was placed in accelerated math classes. The only reason why she didn't do as well in science and was excluded from college prep math and science classes was because of two teachers--one was incompetent and the high school wouldn't help us fight the grade.

She was denied entrance to college prep math classes because the institution, Berkeley High School was biased and tracked her. The teacher looked at her excellent scores and wouldn't admit her, and I wasn't a sophisticated enough parent to find an avenue to challenge this policy and the grades. I later found out that one of TaSin's classmate's parents, was able to do so.

Parent advocacy is hard when streets are blocked and signage unclear. This is why black people need to set up alternative institutions, not just one, but several options like ASA Academy, places where our children are nurtured.

Muhammad University No. 26 was such a sanctuary. I was so happy to go to school with classmates who looked like me, who worshipped the same creator I did, who I saw outside of class at the weekly worships meetings. I wasn't a child whose life was limited to the Nation of Islam, so I interacted with other young people in art classes at the M.H. deYoung Museum in Golden Gate Park and in the neighborhood, but having a school where I didn't have to fight all the time against the prejudice was a relief and I'm sure strengthened my character.

Students challenge me all the time about Islam and what it means to be a Muslim when they haven't a clue how one translates one's faith cross culturally at a time when this nation was strictly Christian and intolerant towards anyone who was not also so. The Jews might have fared a little better just because they had money and they were also majority white, but not us.

Even with 9/11 the emphasis was and still is non-indigenous Muslims, the black Muslims, the Muslims who are American of African descent--not recent immigrants. We are not the ones called to speak, so when a Muslim woman sues a department store for discrimination against her, because she wears a scarf, imagine the discrimination against black women just because they were black, scarf or no scarf.

These women, this new population has much to learn from us and much to thank us for; however, they probably don't even notice our absence.

Out. The Glenn Burke Story

2011-06-25T02:41:00.001-07:00

Out. The Glenn Burke Story

The word out takes on multiple meaning when one thinks about Glenn Burke’s life in the documentary based on his life: OUT—as in outfield, strike out and out of the closet.

The first openly gay professional major league ball player and Bay Area native, OUT airs this Sunday, June 26, 2011, at 9 p.m. and Thursday, June 30, 2011 at 2:30 p.m. YouTube Promotion: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aFiekJb2HLQ

VIVA RIVA! opens in Berkeley and San Francisco

2011-06-24T16:39:00.000-07:00

This jury is still out on the first feature film to come out of the Democratic Republic of the Congo in twenty years, “VIVA RIVA!,” opening Friday, June 24, 2011, at Landmark Theatres: the Lumiere in San Francisco and Shattuck Cinemas in Berkeley.

Produced and directed by veteran filmmaker and insider, Djo Tunda Wa Munga, I am not sure why the film is so bloody, so full of violence—if “VIVA RIVA!” is a travelogue then one might think multiple times before visiting the DRC, unless one is going to work. Most audiences are familiar with the international exploitation of mineral resources in this Central African nation: blood diamonds. Pulitzer Prize winning playwright Lynn Nottage’s "Ruined," teaches us the cost of war on black women: body and spirit, as Congolese sage, artist Samba Ngo sings about blood cell phones—yet, Munga’s “VIVA RIVA!,” adds yet another layer of complicity. What is the director saying about the Democratic Republic of the Congo in his first feature?

In an interview (broadcast this week, June 23-24 wandaspicks.asmnetwork.org), he tells me he was not looking at models rather at film as art, a craft driven by story. He says he wanted to tell a story relative to the Congolese experience presently—so he drapes whores in ceremonial masks, not to make the circumstances which leave these women no alternative, any less tragic, just a little sugar to make reality a little easier for audiences to swallow.

Satan walks in Kinshasa. His name is Cesar and he wears a white suit and a Panama hat. He is alive and well-fed with the blood of the guilty; he is unstoppable –or at least it feels this way.

When the film ends one is filled with questions. Who is Riva? Was his life completely pointless? Are there people like him in the world, people who make so little impact—use such a small amount of space in the grand scheme of things, it is as if they never existed?

Nothing is sacred here and almost everything is for sale— one cannot take anything into the fire, so everything is negotiable: values, principles, faith.

In the heart of this thriller, Blaxploitation —Kinshasa style—“Viva Riva!,” we meet a likable crook, Riva (Patsha Bay). Riva loves the whores, befriends the street kids and has no patience for honor among thieves. After a big job, he returns home where he is treated like royalty in the bustling urban center –the medium of exchange oil as in petrol or gasoline. He brings in a huge truck full and its owner is turning over grave sites looking for him. The chase is brutal, which is reason enough for the rating, mature and adult, but the idea that life is so cheap—that gasoline is worth more than human beings is such a global phenomena especially when one is black. The blacker the berry the more easily crushed and crushed it is as the grape vat become ripe with red wine.

The protagonist, Riva, doesn’t have a family, and when he hits town he grabs his running buddy, snatches him from his domicile and the two men party hard—liquor and women. That first night Riva falls for a femme fatal, lithe, light and dangerously attached to the local thug, “Nora” (actress Manie Malone). Viva Riva is a Carmen with a male protagonist—like Shakespeare, Munga’s “Hamlet” is haunted by ghosts—his dead brother’s and parent’s who heap blame on his already tortured soul. Riva’s Kinshasa is a place where even though your troubles are all the same, one can drown them in someone else’s glass (“Cheers”).

Maybe that’s the trouble here, everyone knows everyone’s name, which means no one can hide and the underground scene . . . if it’s as scary as the street scene Riva runs through, then one hasn’t a chance.

Riva is spirit, a touchstone, an egungun as he walks toward the other side. No life he touches is ever the same. I never thought about Robert Johnson’s entourage. Riva has one too . . . everyone he touches has dues to pay. Nothing is free, especially happiness.

The story has few heroes--likable characters, yes, like Riva, Nora to an extent, Riva's friends, and a little boy--a street kid, Riva befriends. Perhaps with everything to lose one can only win. Is this the story VIVA RIVA! tells?

The producer of "Congo in Four Acts," a quartet of short films that exposed the distressing reality of every day life in the Congo, says he hopes with VIVA RIVA! he has the start of what he calls “New Wave of Congolese Cinema.” In Lingala with English subtitles, Munga lets American audiences know who his audience is and that isn’t us. Nonetheless the European trained cinematographer draws a thin line between western expectation and African reality.

The acting is superb and the look of the film rich in texture and color. Kinshasa is a musical city and the film’s score expresses the spirit of a young city trying to leave a difficult past. Composer Cyril Atef (CongopunQ) celebrates the diversity of Congolese music with AfroPop tracks from contemporary artists ranging from Flamme Kapaya, Papy Mbavu, and Radioclit along with popular songs from the 70s by Franklin Boukaka, Franco and Manu Dibango. Visit http://www.musicboxfilms.com/viva-riva

Photos: Riva (Patsha Bay Mukuna), Nora (Manie Malone), The Angolans, Director Djo Tunda Wa Munga with Marlene Longange and Hoji Fortuna.

Sharon Jones and The Dap King; Ben L'Oncle Soul

2011-06-19T23:08:00.000-07:00

Stern Grove Festival 74 was quite spectacular. Many in the audience there because of Sharon Jones and the Dapp-Kings were quite blown over by Ben L-Oncle Soul. The cute kid in glasses brought a full blown orchestra including a fantastic rhythm section with horns. He even had go-go boys in bow ties, knickers and blue cardigan vests, but that didn't stop them as they kept hydrated and boogied till the very end (smile). The day was San Francisco warm--record warm, not wear one's jacket and hope for the sun weather.

One could say that spring is here, summer just around the corner--

The line for autographs was so long, Sharon Jones was into her third, maybe fourth song before Ben finished. He sold out all his posters (large and small) along with his CDs at $30 a pop. Now Sharon Jones would have made a killing. I don't know why she didn't have product on sale, even if she couldn't sign them.

She was the name, the draw.

With radio announcer bass in his voice the bassist, who is also a writer, introduced the Dappettes first, Star Duncan and Sandra Williams who both sang a couple of songs before Ms. Jones came on stage in a short shimmy--black with silver accents. Hair in a short page boy, cute silver slippers with heels and modest silver jewelry, I couldn't imagine her as a corrections officer at Rikers Island until she sang a song about kids growing up.

However, it was her song for the ancestors--actually an ancestor set, that well,it was the best celebration of African American history on an Emancipation Day that I can recall.

She started talking about her heritage: Indigenous and African and how her African family got here-- in chains and how they must have danced when they were freed. She then started naming nations: Cherokee, Seminole, Crow, Blackfeet, Creek . . . . and incidents marking the massacres and slaughters, like the white man's killing off the buffalo. Then she did a dance such that they might have as they still fought for freedom--resistance was certainly in the air, in her genes, in Stern Grove Sunday afternoon as Jones's head back, arms out, knees bent danced her ancestor's freedom song.

Working up to her birth, decades later Jones spoke about attending church with her grandmother and recalled the SHOUT: one part praise, the other part joy. "Both ancestors started in the feet and the feet would ShOUT." Jones said.

Her explanation reminded me of Saturday at the Friend's of the Negro Spirituals Emancipation Sing-a-long, where scholar Wendell Brooks spoke about the SHOUT, how it black people used their voices as drums when the drum was taken away--the choral music tradition one created and embraced by enslaved African--the SHOUT a way of embodying the music.

As the saga traveled through her body: hips, arms, neck, and head . . . Jones added a bit more choreography to the step which was moving her from one end of the stage to another. It was here that she used her towel for the first time.

As I stated, it was simply marvelous watching her relive that history!

The tempo slowed it down with "100 Days, 100 Nights," which reminded me thematically of the Ark with Brother Noah. I think it rained 40 days and 40 nights. I'm sure everyone was a bit stir crazy. The story also reminded me of poor Scheherazade and the king . . . but that was "1001 Nights" or Arabian Nights.

This was the finale and the organizers told the band that there were no encores --that 4:30 was it. However, even that end was negotiable --all the people standing and clapping must have moved some bureaucrat's heart--so Jones ended her celebration of the musical tradition James Brown made popular, with his classic: "It's a Man's World."

It was such a perfect Father's Day song and she admitted after the song, as she wished dad's a Happy Father's Day, that she'd forgotten. But then she hadn't had she?

Her tunes which I didn't know at all included: "Longer and Stronger," "Money"--where she stopped and looked at my friend, and asked him if his funds were enough; "She Ain't a Child Anymore;" "Mama Don't Like My Man," a fun tune that showcased the women's harmony--the sisters were hot on this tune which was a throw back to the girl bands.

Ms. Jones said that she'd been on the road for a year and a half. That's a long time. Her band was bigger than Ben's, however, both groups were 60s funk and Jones could dance too.

She took us to Soul Train the famous line along a route that only stopped at the best stations. Jones would called out "Dapp Kings play some funky chicken music" and they would oblige--precise and professional, the band was rocking the entire time as with the toot of Jones's whistle even before she kicked off her shoes.

"That's okay," she said as someone looked for her dancing shoes in the dressing room. After dancing barefoot at the first stop, the tour could get better with stops at cool jerk, mashed potatoes, swim and others popular dances of that wonderful period in American history.

Ben's band was the perfect warm up for a Sharon Jones--who would have known? Well obviously the programmers at Stern Grove Festival did and so they brought this fantastic band all the way from France to hang out with us on Juneteenth--soul music in France. Singing in both English and French, Ben's band played an introductory medley where I hear James Brown's Hot Pants.

To get to know his audience, Ben asked all of us to say our names together after he introduced the band. It was really cool--I don't think anyone ever did this before. He played some covers --most I didn't know. One was a hip hop selection and the choreography showed the artist's range. Up beat and positive Ben shared a dream he had about a song as he performed.

When people outside American speak fluent English, I feel so lazy which is why children need to get a second and third language, before the privilege bug sets in (smile).

Musical historian at my table told me about the Dapp Kings as Amy White

One wouldn't have known Jones was now 55 if she hadn't told us. She danced the entire set nonstop.

Visit www.sterngrove.org for information about the entire season. Next week Jazz Mafia Symphony feature MC Chali 2Na debuting a new symphony, Symphony No. 2, The Emperor Norton Suite. Concerts start at 2 PM.

Cedar Walton and Roy Hargrove tonight!

2011-06-19T12:14:00.000-07:00

In a rare concert, Cedar Walton, piano, and Roy Hargrove, trumpet, perform at the Herbst Theatre in San Francisco, 7 PM. It's a SFJAZZ Spring Season special! At the same time literally across the street, at Davies at 8 PM, Winton Marsalis's Jazz at Lincoln Center perform with Sean Jones and Marcus Printup on trumpet. Should be nice.

So how were Angelique Kidjo and Youssou N'dour Friday night? Was anyone at the Vusi concert that same evening? What about Carmen Lundy?

Last night did folks get over the the 57th Street Gallery for the Barbara Hunter Quartet? Yes, I missed that too along with the first day of San Francisco Juneteeth. I am missing the complete SFBFF. The programming focusing on fathers and sons couldn't be more apropos according to Marvin X on his blo, posted this morning.

I ended up at Lundy's concert for a second night at the second set. This audience was just as appreciative as the one opening night, they just knew a bit more about the artist. The next day, several people told me they'd wanted to see her and missed it.

She spoke about a song she composed and performed with Cedar Walton, who is a preeminent artist. It promises to be something special.

Juneteenth Special on KPFA radio 94.1 FM

2011-06-19T12:13:00.001-07:00

In commemoration of our Juneteenth Freedom Day, WE have been invited to participate in a special two-hour program on KPFA-FM (94.1 FM or www.kpfa.org), the flagship station of the Pacifica Radio Network. The program will air on tomorrow, Sunday, 19 June, from 9 am -11 am pdt (12 Noon to 2 pm edt). There will also be an opportunity to offer your comments, viewpoints and questions by calling in at 510.848.4425 . As with all Pacifica Radio shows, this one will also be archived to listen to at a later time. Asante Sana (Many Thanks) for your consideration.

Carmen Lundy Quartet at Yoshi's June 17, 2011

2011-06-17T14:30:00.000-07:00

Even though it had been a log day, I knew if I could get there Ms. Lundy would be all the cure I needed, the cure, the meditation, the sunshine and raining affirmations her songs embodied. Love, yes love, even after heartache.

The club was not as full as the last time I saw her live. It was the week John Hicks passed and her brother, Curtis was on bass. It was a transcendental set--everyone's mind on the dearly departed soul.

In the ensuing years I've kept up with Lundy . . . her various albums and had an opportunity to speak to her when her Solomente (2009) was released. Visit www.wandaspicks.asmnetwork.org (June 21, 2009). On this album, Lundy is pictured playing both guitar and drums. However, at Yoshi's she left the literal instrumentation to her guys: the incomparable pianist Anthony Wonsey, phenomenal bassist and new comer to the ensemble, this his first gig, Corcoran Holt, and the prodigy of the group, as in youth, Jamison Ross, 23. Hailing from Florida, the black Indian, Seminole nation, was unspeakably subtle on the traps, never overstated or overbearing, a witty, supportive presence in the ensemble from start to finish.

He and Holt, physically close in proximity, shared a certain camaraderie, Wonsey all alone across the span of 88 keys years yards of wood and octaves--empty spaces waiting to be filled. Despite the physical distance, one could see Ross's face above the cymbals talking to Wonsey, listening intently to the musician whose command of his instrument made us realize that we were in the presence of greatness.

Black magic is certainly real when Carmen Lundy has the wand. "Tell me," she asks her audience, "How many of you are just getting to know this music today?" Unperturbed that half the audience were among the uninitiated, she stayed in the water--the baptism falling from her lips with each selection . . . just one more reason why CD sales were brisk after the band returned for an encore sing-a-long.

She takes us on a safari with Wild Child, then shifts into a finger popping "Lucky Me--I'm in Love Again." I hear patrons calling out Ray Brown's name as Holt solos on bass matching Lundy's speaking in tongues-- scatting. Here Ross gives us a taste of his percussive power, a foreshadowing of what's to come. One hears echoes in the audience as he performs --table top drummers. The two women we meet later after the set are good--who would have known the syncopation was unplanned--just sisters feeling the music.

When black magic is in the room, no one leaves uninitiated--sort of like a contact high (smile).

Lundy tells us her next song is a first composition on guitar. This is a song she and the guys love, she says, as she asks us to indulge her--

"Tonight stars are brightly shining when love surrounds us. . . ."

Wearing a lovely waist length lavender jacket, ruffles along the neck line, stylish and functional, the artist had on these cool black slacks with ruffled pleats, her eye shadow lavender as well, her long lashes coquettish without pretension. Cute short red curly cut favored and framed her pretty heart shaped face.

Singing about love and loss and forgiveness, most of the songs were originals, with perhaps one, one might call a standard" Lundy says of a song from a film she hadn't seen. The song, "A Nightingale Sang In Barkley Square" is unrecognizable the way she arranges it and with it begins a medley of songs on the soon to be released recording taped she mentioned back stage in less than 48 hours. I think they went in at 12 noon, the call at 10 AM and were through at 6 PM the next day--it's like that--star dust and such celestial adornment(on new CD). Listen to The teen idol Bobby Darin sings it here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bKvu-8Ac0x0

The songs were about love and relationships, between lovers and friends, even strangers.

She sang: "My one and only love is a dream come true . . . I'm your neighbor. Let go of your paranoia and fear. Where did it gone . . . how did we ever lose the feeling?"

Ross's solo on drums is a meditation that opens the next song. It was like the Niyabinghi rhythm, but then it wasn't. Moving . . . it was hard to place him.

My friend whispered Betty Carter while listening to Lundy--her strength, her command, her range--Carter's performances legendary in their physicality. It was on this song Ross introduced that Lundy's vocal reach was operatic.

Her repertoire varied in style from ballads to stunning forays into areas in the celestial hemisphere I hadn't traversed lately--Lundy's vocal range as wide and as deep as the ocean-- ocean blues and foamy seas.

One of my favorite pieces was a song dedicated to her mother--"Rivers so Wide and Deep . . . walking through the wind alone, I stumble-- Please hold out your hand. I need your strength to go on. Show me a sign. Send me your love--Keep me alive."

Her song reminded me of the Billy Joel song, "River of Dreams," but my notes don't match his song.

It is here that Wonsey gave one of his many stellar solo performances and Ross his first extended solo. I think the song is called "One More River to Cross" on This is Carmen Lundy. Listen to it here: http://www.myspace.com/carmenlundy/music/songs/one-more-river-to-cross-38222384

Nope, this isn't the song she sang (smile). I don't know its name, but the research was fun (smile). This is what happens when one isn't an expert and I don't ask for a set list. I'll see if I can get answers to my questions tonight (smile). Visit http://www.carmenlundy.com/

I like the Joel piece though, so I am going to include it here.

In the middle of the night
I go walking in my sleep
From the mountains of faith
To the river so deep
I must be lookin' for something
Something sacred i lost
But the river is wide
And it's too hard to cross
even though I know the river is wide
I walk down every evening and stand on the shore
I try to cross to the opposite side
So I can finally find what I've been looking for
In the middle of the night
I go walking in my sleep
Through the valley of fear
To a river so deep
I've been searching for something
Taken out of my soul
Something I'd never lose
Something somebody stole
I don't know why I go walking at night
But now I'm tired and I don't want to walk anymore
I hope it doesn't take the rest of my life
Until I find what it is I've been looking for
(Three beat Pause)
In the middle of the night
I go walking in my sleep
Through the jungle of doubt
To the river so deep
I know I'm searching for something
Something so undefined
That it can only be seen
By the eyes of the blind
In the middle of the night (break)

I’m not sure about a life after this
God knows I've never been a spiritual man
Baptized by the fire, I wade into the river
That is runnin' through the promised land (Long Five beat Pause)

In the middle of the night
I go walking in my sleep
Through the desert of truth
To the river so deep
We all end in the ocean
We all start in the streams
We're all carried along
By the river of dreams
In the middle of the night

Lundy's voice is a physical presence, the music coming from her pores--as in water spirit soul . . . bending from the waist, crouching and balled up like an embryo holding onto what she knows as she tumbles into the light, Lundy would then reach up into the heavens, arms outstretched in supplication, in reverence, in thanksgiving --the music a gift. . . .

In all of this one could feel the music. She is the music. We are the music. Is this philosophical or transcendent or what?! But it's not that deep until you look back at the shore and see how far you are from where you were when you stepped into her arms -- the melody all the trust you need despite the current and the occasional waves.

Magic. It's contagious and addictive.

The encore, "Come Home," is a song about memories of family and siblings, the happy memories we recall when the others fade from view. Scatting as she dipped into that treasure trove that is --magic, black . . .magic, Carmen Lundy magic --the finale was a perfect ending to a perfect evening. Imagine the disappointment of people counting on a second set arriving at 10 p.m. I hadn't known the show was almost canceled until I arrived and went back stage.

Ticket sales were slow. Friday night,tonight, Lundy has to sell the club out. I am sure word will get around that the queen is back and perhaps if we treat her well, she'll come back our way soon.

Roots of Freedom: Omnira Productions Juneteenth Celebration, June 18, 2011

2011-06-17T14:27:00.000-07:00

JUBILEE: CELEBRATING THE END OF U.S. SLAVERY, SAT. JUNE 19, 2010, 10 A.M. TO 12:30 PM @ the LAKE MERRITT BOATHOUSE PICNIC AREA.

ADMISSION is FREE

For hundreds of years enslaved Africans and African Americans prayed for freedom. Jubilee, as they referred to the coming of that great day, arrived with Abraham Lincoln signing the Emancipation Proclamation on Jan. 1, 1863.

To Wanda Ravernell, host of Omnira Projects’ Jubilee celebration on June 19 at the Lake Merritt Boathouse Picnic Area, the end of slavery was nothing less than a moral national victory. “I read that the news was tapped out over telegraph lines and as word got out, there were spontaneous celebrations, dancing in the streets and prayers at churches,” she said.

Most of these annual commemorations, celebrated by black and white alike, died out by the 1920s. But, 145 years later, the Texas festival known as Juneteenth (because the news of freedom arrived more than two years later, June 19, 1865) appears to be the most prominent of the freedom festivals that remain.

“I believe that we are Freedom’s Children,” said Ravernell, who is African American. “We owe it to our ancestors to give up a little time in their memory for their sacrifice.”

The celebration will include a procession led by sacred African drumming, chants in the various faiths of the African captives, and very old spirituals. In addition, because American Indians were enslaved first, there will be chants from First Nation representatives as well, Ravernell says.

This is Omnira Projects third outing at the lake Merritt Boathouse area.
“I held a similar program at my house for several years, but it makes a difference to have it outside. I read thatLincoln announced the Emancipation outside under a tree. Perhaps that has something to do with it.”

Justice for Oscar Grant March, Sunday, June 12, 2011 in Oakland, CA

2011-06-12T11:02:00.000-07:00

ALL OUT Sunday June 12th to honor Oscar Grant and protest the lack of justice in his murder by a police officer who has been let off by the criminal injustice system with a slap on the wrist, and who is about to be released!

Oscar Grant was a young black working man and father, who was shot in the back, as he lay face down on a BART platform, by a police officer named Johannes Mehserle. Mehserle, who drew his gun and fired point blank at the prone victim, who was pinned down by another cop and lay unresisting before him, was convicted in an LA court of only a misdemeanor charge of involuntary manslaughter. He is now to be released on Monday the 13th of June, after serving only 11 months for this open and shut execution by a police officer.

MOBILIZE: Oscar Grant (Fruitvale) BART Station, 3 PM, Sunday 12 june. March from there to 14th and Broadway, Oakland. Called by the Coalition for Justice for Oscar Grant.

This is a crime of the criminal justice system, which is based on the legacy of slavery, and on the racist capitalist system itself. This system is waging class war on us, and we must fight back.

Honor Oscar Grant! Jail All Killer Cops! Free Mumia Abu-Jamal and all class-war political prisoners!

MOBILIZE: Oscar Grant (Fruitvale) BART Station, Oakland, at 3 PM, Sunday 12 June. Be prepared to march from there to 14th and Broadway.

- Labor Action Committee To Free Mumia Abu-Jamal
PO Box 16222 Oakland CA 94610 510 763-2347

Libations for the Ancestors

2011-06-11T16:11:00.000-07:00

Libations for the Ancestors June 11, 2011 in Oakland, CA; Coney Island, Miami, FL; Philadelphia, PA

2011-06-11T15:32:00.000-07:00

Each year for the past five or six years Oakland, CA has added itself to the long list of places in the African Diaspora where libations are poured for our African ancestors the second Saturday in June at 9 AM Pacfic Time, in conjunction with programs in Brooklyn, NY (Coney Island); Portobello, Panama; Cape Coast Castle, Ghana; Sullivan's Island, just outside of Charleston, SC, one of the sites where captured African men, women and children were transported and sold into chattel slavery, and elsewhere.

Sister Shukuru Sanders who lives here now introduced me to her friend Brother Osei Terry Chandler, also from Brooklyn, New York, who organizes a similar ritual in his new home in South Carolina. In the San Francisco Bay Area we honor our ancestors in a formal ceremony in October, however, I thought it would be great to join this global libation on the second Saturday in June.

I remember the first year we did so, it was a week after Josephine Baker's centennial birthday, June 3, 2006, where in Paris the black folks, the Ex-Pats were toasting our ancestor. That first year we trekked over to San Francisco to Ocean Beach, but the following year we decided to stay in the East Bay, since the majority of us who attended the inaugural year live over here.

Both ceremonies were born within a year of each other, the Annual Maafa Ritual or Black Holocaust Remembrance is 16 this year.

Toni Cade Bambara, author, in 1987 issued a call to those assembled at a storytelling concert at Meger Evers College, and Dr. Mary Umolu, Professor, MEC, 1996 and AKEEM, Producer, 1996 responded. Since that first event in November, since moved to June, a lot easier to weather, literally, Brother Akeem has been the official leader/coordinator of The People of the Sun-Middle Passage Collective and overall Tribute worker/keeper of the flame (http://poscollective.tripod.com/Index.html).

I have yet to speak to Brother Akeem, he is always too busy, but I have spoken to Brothers Bill Jones and Habte Selassie on my radio show. Both men have been participating from the beginning, along with Brother Osei whom I spoke to recently, about the flame he lit in his new home, Charleston, South Carolina.

Their tributes are integrated, as are most except ours and the Caravan to the Ancestors, in October in Galveston, Texas, sponsored by the Black United Front of Houston. Organizers tell me that if they were exclusive, no one would show up (smile). Personally, I like small and intimate, which is the way ours has been each June.

Odunde Festival in Philadelphia is also this weekend, June 9-12, 2011. The big Festival in on Sunday, June 12, and begins with a procession. Begun in 1975, I think Odunde is the oldest Festival of Pan African culture in the United States. One year I had Founder, Lois Fernandez's daughter, and Executive Director of Odunde, Oshunbumi Fernandez, on my radio show with Brother Osei and Brother Bill. It was a great conversation as neither man knew about the Odunde Festival, nor did Bumi know about the Annual Libations for the Ancestors the same weekend as Odunde which means Happy New Year in Yoruba which concludes the community guided procession to the Schuylkill River (at noon), to honor Oshun, Goddess of the River.

"The ODUNDE festival is an occasion marked by joy and hope, a joy which is highlighted by a colorful procession . . . where offerings of fruits and flowers are made to Oshun, the Goddess of the River. The religion, call IFA, embraced by the Yoruba people is very old. It involves the worship of one God and 401 orishas, similar to saints in the Catholic Church. Included in its three tiers of worship is “ancestor remembrance” in the offering of libations, divinations and other such acts" (http://odundefestival.org/about.html).

I just think spirit moves in all of us at the same time. There are no coincidences (smile). What I like about Odunde and other observances is the active participation of scholars and people from the continent in their ceremonies and festivities. This year Odunde has invited ambassadors from Angola and Liberia (http://odundefestival.org/calendar.html).

Next week in Miami, there is another ritual healing ceremony at the Historic Virginia Key Beach Park, there. This year it falls on Sunday, June 19 [Juneteenth], 5:30 a.m. The event is free and open to the public. The Kuumba Artists Collective of South Florida can be reached for information at: (305)751-9791 or dinizulu7@gmail.com

Two themes this year are: 2011 Black History Theme: Black Soldiers in the Civil War (First year of Civil War Sesquicentennial Observance)and 2011: International Year for People of African Descent, proclaimed by UN General Assembly, December, 2010. Visit http://www.nationaljuneteenth.com/

Here is a site for Juneteenth Celebrations through out America. It's all about lifting up our people, right? Visit http://www.juneteenthjazz.com/

In reading about the original inspiration and motivation for the annual ritual on Coney Island, 22 years ago, organizers state:

"The Collective believes that we must revere and talk about the Atlantic Ocean that roars beneath the endless blue sky on days when calm is hiding. We bear witness to the Water that has created additional moisture to cry its own tears again and again and again. Tears that turn from blue green to mud brown over dead and poisoned fish that float by our human castles that have claimed the earth and house horrendous deeds and thoughts. The Ocean. Water with a floor of cleaned bones. Bones of Baba, Mama, Cousin Him, Cousin Her, and Neighbor Friend. Bones of those who couldn’t take the darkness, the filth, and the lack of food and clean drinking water. Bones that couldn’t take the systematic beatings and rape. Bones that caved in when eyes witnessed children and loved ones being tossed overboard, providing more food for the sharks. Bones that couldn’t stand being paced like sardines with heavy chains around necks, hands, and feet. Bones that couldn’t take lying in urine and feces and vomit while continuously rocking in the bowels of those ships. Bones that decided to take a chance and fight back. Bones that tried to fly home. Grown-up bones and baby bones. Bones that tried to stay alive. Tired hard to hold on, one hour at a time. But lost. Flesh given to ocean scavengers. Bones lying in the Ocean, the largest single graveyard in the world. We believe that there is a physical and spiritual presence in the Ocean that we must acknowledge and stop throwing garbage upon. We must remember that, like the Earth, the Ocean is sacred, and it demands our recognition and respect.

"We believe that it is a place for both our fun and our seriousness, a place for our children’s laughter And our grown-up Tears, some of Which are caused By Memory, that Life force that Keeps our Ancestral Stories alive. And while we Do all the Various Things that Must be Done in our Daily lives As we Struggle For Survival, Quality, justice, And peace, we Must continue to find the time and the space to create an ongoing memorial for those people who are buried in the Ocean. It is then and only then that their Spirits will be able to rest in peace and offer us blessings as we continue our trek on Earth. We believe that we must listen to the wind over the Ocean, and hear the voices from the past calling out to us. If we dare, we might hear the ancestors telling us what needs to be done. We must listen to the quiet voices within our Black selves while we are at the Ocean, and hear out Kushite hearts beat with the call of the drum, the drum call for justice, freedom, and peace. We must make certain that the world never forgets those wicked slave ships and slavers, and the human flesh and hearts that were destroyed by greed and beliefs in racial superiority. We must remember that today the great, great, grandchildren of the wicked slavers often wear designer suits and ties. They carry new types of whips and build new types of holding cells while they poison the water and the air, and attempt to destroy our memories through continuous and deliberate mis-education.

"We believe that we can win the war against ignorance and misinformation when we collectively stand up to win" (http://poscollective.tripod.com/Index.html).

In its 15th year now, organizers in South Carolina state: "Each year is unique depending on who gathers to remember ... to heal ... and perhaps to share a gift with the community. While there are many touching and meaningful moments each year, many participants are especially moved when they offer their flowers, throwing the petals in the water to mark the graves of those souls who perished during the Middle Passage. For others, it's the Libation (12:00 noon EST) with its powerfully poetic oratory, each year led by those assembled.

"We all gather to honor the millions who perished in the horrific voyage, the Middle Passage. We feel and understand that if we don't remember and honor them, who will!"

So back at the ranch

Running a bit late this morning, when I arrived Sister Afua began to set up an altar facing the fountain and assembled birds. She lit incense in a holder next to a Shona sculpture. Another sister, Gale "Nasia" Jordan, visiting from Ghana where she now lives, brought a basket of musical instruments which released our inner children as we played.

In a traditional role call we stated our birth years to decide who would begin pouring first. Since our numbers were so small, each person poured with another person(s), all hands on the container or in one case, containers. (Sister Nasia brought water she'd blessed). I think for most it was their first time participating. One sister cried she was so happy to have made it this year, after trying to get here for the past three years. I spoke to friends later on who wanted to come but missed a bus or an alarm, so they poured at home.

Unlike the annual Maafa Ritual in October at Ocean Beach, Libations for the Ancestors is a lot looser in its programming. We call the ancestors into our space, then offer a reflection of what's on each of our hearts. Often people bring prayers to share, as Sister Afua did along with a proclamation from the Democratic Republic of the Congo. I brought a few books I thought lent themselves to the spirit of the moment: American Hunger by Richard Wright, The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America's Great Migration by Isabel Wilkerson, and two by Gayle Jones: The HeALing and CoRregidora.

What Wright says about identity gave rise to many comments. We closed the circle with final libations and thanks to the angels in our midst, then paused for a moment of silence.

From American Hunger by Richard Wright:

"(Color hate defined the place of black life as below that of white life; and the black man, responding to the same dreams as the white man, strove to bury within his heart his awareness of this difference because it made him lonely and afraid. Hated by whites and being an organic part of the culture that hated him, the black man grew in turn to hate in himself that which others hated in him. But pride would make him hide his self-hate, for he would not want whites to know that he was so thoroughly conquered by them that his total life was conditioned by their attitude; but in the act of hiding his self-hate in him, he could not help but hate those who evoked his self-hate in him. So each part of his day would be consumed in a war with himself, a good part of his energy would be spent in keeping control of his unruly emotions, emotions which he had not wished to have, but could not help having. Held at bay by the hate of others, preoccupied with his own feelings, he was continuously at war with reality. He became inefficient, less able to see and judge the objective world. And when he reached that state, the white people looked at him and laughed and said:

"('Look, didn't I tell you niggers were that way?'"

"(To solve this tangle of balked emotion, I loaded the empty part of the ship of my personality with fantasies of ambition to keep it from toppling over into the sea of senselessness. Like any other American, I dreamed of going into business and making money; I dreamed of working for a firm that would allow me to advance until I reached an important position; I even dreamed of organizing secret groups of blacks to fight all whites. . . . And if the blacks would not agree to organize, then they would have to be fought. I would end up with self-hate, but it was now a self-hate that was projected outward upon other blacks. Yet I knew--with that part of my mind whites had given me--that none of my dreams was possible. Then I would hate myself for allowing my mind to dwell upon the unattainable. Thus the circle would complete itself.

"(Slowly I began to forge in the depths of my mind a mechanism that repressed all the dreams and desires that the Chicago streets, the newspapers, the movies were evoking in me. I was going through a second childhood; a new sense of the limit of the possible was being born in me. What could I dream of that had the barest possibility of coming true? I could think of nothing" (6-7).

Libations for the Ancestors June 11, 2011

2011-06-11T13:51:00.001-07:00

Still Black Still Proud Tour Stops in Oakland, CA

2011-06-10T00:57:00.000-07:00

Say It Loud: I'm Black and I'm Proud

2011-06-09T23:24:00.000-07:00

When I walked into the opening set, the band was in full swing on a tune I learned later called Soul Pride (1960). The horn section with Alfred "Pee Wee" Ellis on tenor sax, Charles McNeil on alto and Chad on trombone was swinging--the other members of the band, Peter Madison on organ and piano, John Mayer on traps, Ray on guitar, Papa Alassane on African percussion and Mark on bass, rounded out the ensemble which included Fred Ross on vocals and small percussion--and special guests this "Still Black, Still Proud" tour, Vusi Mahlasela and Meklit Hadero.

"Chicken" was next, another PW tune which had heads bobbing all over the intimate room--comfortably full. The band then eased into Tony Allen's "No Discrimination" --Fela plays on the album, and the drummer is a contender for the Afro-beat heavyweight title according to Brother Pee Wee, who might not physically tower over most of the guys on stage, but certainly is gigantic in his musical legacy. Visit http://www.artandculturemaven.com/2011/04/afrobeat-legend-tony-allen-on-tour-in.html

As we were grooving to the sounds of "Say It Loud, I'm Black and I'm Proud," (1968)the James Brown tune, co-written with Pee Wee Ellis, I reflected on the reason it was an anthem 40 years ago, is the same reason why it remains an anthem today--The affirmation or assertion grounds us in the space we occupy as a people here in America and elsewhere in global Pan Africa.

Africans were standing up and saying no more to invasions and invaders, theft and rape of land and its resources. Black people were embracing their beautiful blackness, a blackness they were taught to despise and reject. I'd never thought about the song politically until tonight when Fred Ross invoked James Brown's spirit and then in their various languages: Zulu, Amharic and Wolof --the artists and audience embraced our collective heritage in song.

Uh! With your bad self!

Some people say we've got a lot of malice
Some say it's a lot of nerve
But I say we won't quit moving until we get what we deserve
We have been bucked and we have been scorned
We have been treated bad, talked about as just bones
But just as it takes two eyes to make a pair, ha
Brother we can't quit until we get our share

Say it loud: I'm black and I'm proud!
Say it loud: I'm black and I'm proud!
One more time!
Say it loud: I'm black and I'm proud!

I worked on jobs with my feet and my hand
But all the work I did was for the other man
Now we demand a chance to do things for ourselves
We're tired of beatin' our head against the wall
And workin' for someone else

Say it loud: I'm black and I'm proud
Say it loud: I'm black and I'm proud
Say it loud: I'm black and I'm proud
Say it loud: I'm black and I'm proud

We're people, we're just like the birds and the bees
We'd rather die on our feet
Than be livin' on our knees

Say it loud: I'm black and I'm proud
Say it loud: I'm black and I'm proud
Say it loud: I'm black and I'm proud
Say it loud: I'm black and I'm proud

http://www.lyricsbox.com/james-brown-lyrics-say-it-loud-im-black-and-im-proud-pt-1-5w39354.html (JB is performing Say It Loud on SoulTrain.)

Meklit who said she'd forgotten her Amharic when she came to America, called her papa and asked him how to say: Say It Loud, I'm Black and I'm Proud. His first suggestion had too many words and syllables; however, she worked it out and we sang along with her. Vusi, the rock star, already had us primed with his "Africa Sing," on "The Voice." I can't spell it, but I could sing it (smile).

The Still Black Still Proud tour, which has been all over Europe and is just getting to the United States a few years ago--I think this is its first stop in the San Francisco Bay Area--we hope it isn't its last, is an opportunity to reflect, and reflect Vusi did on African aide, something Africa needs and deserves after serving the needs of foreign nationals for so long. It's not a handout, he said. It's payback!

The artists sang many of Brown's songs, music often composed by Pee Wee, mixing it up with their originals. I don't know if PW composed "Try Me," which Vusi sang lovely. On "Cold Sweat," a PW tune, Meklit killed it, simliar to Fred Ross's surgical skill on "I've Got the Feeling." Not only did he sing well, he also had the moves--not JB, but close enough.

After that rousinh song, there was a drumming interlude with Papa Alassane on djembe and congas--joined by the drummer and trombonist, now on conch shells.

Vusi and PW changed into colorful shirts--PW's from the same kind of fabric I purchased in Djenne, Mali. Vusi, in a pretty indigo design shirt, brought out his guitar. Felt like Africa, folks hanging out. . . nobody sweating us about photos, the artists interacting with the patrons. It was pretty cool.

I should have stayed for the second set, but I had to get home to rise early in the morning, yet here I sit still grooving.

East Africa was in the house, South Africa, West Africa was kind of quiet . . . I didn't see a lot of folks from the western coastal areas, but maybe they're planning to rock the show out Friday.

Vusi came out for the finale dancing--reminded me of Ladysmith Black Mambazo--he was rocking it that close to the floor. The last time I saw him was in Dakar in the 'hood at a concert tribute to Mama Makeba. Angelique Kidjo was one of the other headliners. He and Kidjo and Youssou N'Dour will be at the Greek Theatre in LA next week, then Vusi comes back to the Bay for a few more gigs--The New Parish and I heard tonight Yoshi's too.

It is rare indeed to see the father of funk in the flesh up close and personal. Such a great band leader too--he just turns and faces the band and nods or tilts his horn a certain way--no big counts or elaborate gestures.

Smooth. His playing is like that too. . . slow acceleration he eased into the notes and then pulled out all their capital until there was nothing left. He is masterful like his mentor Sonny Rollins.

Charles McNeil is coming back with Little Jimmy Scott he said, so watch for the announcement.

Mr.Ellis and I spoke earlier this week about his work and career. Check our conversation out on Wanda's Picks Radio Show, June 9 & 10, 2011: www.wandaspicks.asnetwork.org

D-Day: Oakland Budget Meeting June 8, 2011

2011-06-09T18:27:00.000-07:00

The mood was jovial --the council chamber full--minus Mayor Quan, more members present than at the last budget hearing Thursday, May 26. Larry Reid was keeping time at the 15 minute open forum, where comments were about the union and the library closure, an item take off the agenda that evening.

I remember when we had more than a minute to speak at council meetings. The etiquette has shifted and changed. Like I said, council was happy --making jokes and poking fun, but no citizen got more than their minute to speak unless the extra time was given to translator when comments were in another language, most often Spanish to English.

Children and adults spoke--at one point all the library supporters stood and cheered--so many kids were present! I think that was a high point of the afternoon. It was downhill after that with Reid offering condolences to a dozen or so persons who died recently, like Mark Curry's dad. Council member Desley Woods also spoke about the senior Mr. Curry and the fun times she shared with him at the Comedy in the Park summer event she co founded with Mark. She also plugged her 3-on-3 basketball tournament coming up soon.

I picked up a lot of stickers this afternoon—a red heart with Oakland Library in the center, and three others: Fair Share, Silenced, and I Love Oakland Arts. On my jacket I wore a button with American Teacher inscribed. During the Open Forum children spoke about the Hacienda House and the Oakland Museum of California. Union Reps spoke about the proposed cuts to salaries and benefits there and within the City of Oakland—the Fair Share stickers referenced the unfair pass given to police and fire fighters, both groups city employees.

In the balcony children wore the silenced sticker across their lips—when asked what I meant, I responded: Silenced means our voices are ignored and that the elected officials are not representing our interests.

Outside kids were running around in the amphitheatre on the surrounding lawn. Signs: Save Our Libraries occupied the stone seats--upside down and sideways.

My comment was item 9.7 (?) --on the proposed Parcel Tax for Libraries. My vote was no with a comment. When I left we were two pages away from that section. This is what I'd planned to say:

Just one day after the 67th anniversary the invasion known as D-Day, strategically Oakland is sending a message to its citizens that June 7, 2011 is also a day we will look back on and mourn the loss of our citizenry for generations to come.

Normally when one looks at bombs being dropped, one sees the environmental impact and residual impact of such deadly, and in my opinion, unnecessary, way to address conflict—I am going to bomb you off the face of the planet –is what we think. This attitude doesn’t do much good considering how interconnected and interrelated we all are in our global community.

The budget will be read in a couple of weeks (June 28) and unless some major miracles happen we’ll just have four libraries (out of 18) left standing, like empty monuments one visits on vacations— scenario A says that most of the electronic services like e-books will also be cut along with a budget for new materials.

The African American Museum and Library, at Oakland, an institution which is unique to this region is also on the cutting floor. Libraries are really integral to one’s community—this is how community is built, through information and shared experiences. Libraries are one of the most successful institutions for convening such gatherings of people who might not speak or get to know one another without this vehicle or service not to mention the books, films, CDs, DVDs, and magazines which support and develop critical thinking and patron interaction with ideas.

D-Day is when the US bombed Normandy and today we are bombing Oakland. Who will be present to count the bodies shelled and shocked when July 1, 2011 rolls around? Perhaps with the new digital radios the police and fire department will be able to communicate with the mayor’s office and keep us posted on the list.

AAMLO is a repository of a period in this city’s history that is no long visible—the black families that built Oakland, a time when one could find black businesses and a vibrant black district which has disappeared as black economic enclaves have disappeared throughout this country. AAMLO is an opportunity to celebrate that presence for the children who are looking for their faces in the history of this city as well as the nation.

I am a trustee for the Northern California Center for African American History and Life. Many of the founders have made their transition or are hitting the 100 landmark. The archives for this unprecedented collaboration between a private entity and a city department belongs to the Northern California Center. It is a treasure the Northern California Center has shared with Oakland residents since AAMLO has been open.

AAMLO is often called the Schomburg of the West. The Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture is a branch of the NY Public Library; however, even though the NYPL is facing a proposed crippling $40 million dollar cut, they are not closing the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture. And there are other parallels between the African American Museum and Library at Oakland on MLK Jr. Way and 14th Street and the Schomburg Center on Malcolm X Boulevard, in New York, NY. Harlem, like Oakland, was once home to a majority black population, now just like here at home —West Oakland, East Oakland, downtown Oakland, like Harlem, is gentrified to the point that black people have been pushed elsewhere—Antioch, Bay Point, Pittsburg . . . Pinole, Mountainhouse . . . Fairfield

I can envision a time when the only black people one meets might be those in a book, on a screen or in a newspaper especially if the new caste system, the new F-word or felons continue to be hoarded and carted away for 25 years to life. Michelle Alexander speaks of this in The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness. This trajectory or targeting of certain people and demographics: black, brown, immigrant, Indigenous, poor— those who cannot read and the undereducated, is intentional.

Today is a sad day in the City of Oakland history. What is to say that promises made with this proposed tax won’t backfire like the ones made when Oakland voters passed Measure Q? Measure Q is supposed to secure fund for libraries through 2024. I am a property owner so I feel tax cuts, those proposed and those in effect already; however I never see any concrete benefits for these tax initiative in my neighborhood— East Oakland below International past High Street before 73rd turns to Hegenberger.

I am a trustee for the Northern California Center for African American History and Life. I am a former Library Commissioner and member of the board for the Friends of the Oakland Public Library. I am also the founder and presenter of the longest running program to date in Oakland Public Library history, the African American Celebration through Poetry, which Saturday, Feb. 5, 2011 marked its 21st anniversary.
I remember when there were black history programs throughout the Oakland Public Library system. My eldest daughter, who will be graduating from Cal State East Bay this week participated in a program at the Martin Luther King Jr. Branch when she was four. She recited a poem about Harriet Tubman, from Elouise Greenfield’s Honey I Love, and Other Love Poetry. “Harriett Tubman didn’t take no stuff, wasn’t afraid of nothing either. She didn’t come into this world to be a slave and wasn’t going to stay one either. . . . .”

San Francisco Carnaval 2011

2011-05-31T03:42:00.000-07:00

Warmth of Other Suns

2011-05-25T22:05:00.000-07:00

This evening at the African American Museum and Library at Oakland, was special. The line wrapped around the corner of 14th Street at Martin Luther King Jr. as people lined up to hear Isabel Wilkerson talk about her book: The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America's Great Migration.

The free Wednesday evening event just spoke to what libraries are all about--telling stories, convening audiences who might not have met otherwise. As Wilkerson said, we have more in common than we differ, and the stories she shares in Warmth capture a period in American history previously undocumented the way she tells it. I am so looking forward to reading the book--I have been on the OPL waiting list for the past month. I hope my number comes up soon (smile).

As Wilkerson spoke about her parents who met in Washington D.C. whom she stated, fortuitous for her, without such she wouldn't have been born, others in the room that evening shared similar histories, that is, the migrations connection to their lives.

The span of the black migration was wide, regions relocating in geographic waves, Wilkerson pointed out, evident in the hands that went up when the author asked whose family was from Louisiana, Texas and Arkansas--California populated by people from those areas of the south.

Similar to other immigrants, these southern populations impacted the culture of the places they settled, especially musically we learned as the author shared the stories of Michael Jackson’s family, Diana Ross's, Miles Davis's and John Coltrane's. Through gentrification and systematic displacement, most of that physical legacy of these early black communities is now almost gone.

Wilkerson spoke about the caste system, a system another author, Michelle Alexander, speaks about in present terms in her award winning book: The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness.

Oakland Mayor Jean Quan spoke briefly. She pushed the parcel tax scenario when asked about keeping AAMLO open. Parcel taxes to raise money for library services have been passed before. Remember Measure O and its companion, Measure Q. Each guaranteed longer hours, more materials and better services. Measure Q is in effect through 2024. Shouldn't the discussion be, where is that money, what happened to City of Oakland promises to pay for matching funds, before asking for more?

KTOP was there taping the program, so Oakland audiences will be able to see the author talk later. I reflected on Richard Wright as Wilkerson ended with the Wright quote she takes her title from. On the occasion of Richard Wright's centennial birth, his daughter Julia Wright joined us at the Annual African American Celebration through Poetry at the West Oakland Branch Library from Paris via phone. She spoke about her father and read some of his haiku poetry. I later met her at the Critical Resistance 10 Conference at Laney College in Oakland, California.

In Black Boy I recall Wright's reflection on going to the library and having to have a white co-worker forge notes for him so he could check out books. Black people couldn't check out books in Chicago at that time. Discrimination was not limited to the south, something Wright wrote about in his memoir and in the Native Son--

Wright knew southerners were not the only black people confused over their place. He writes about this often dangerous discomfort in his sequel to Black Boy, American Hunger. Confused, his factual and fictional characters try to navigate this terrain with varying degrees of success.

His northern experience is not the happy picture Wilkerson painted in her story this evening, yet even in its bleakness, Wright's experience in the north was more than he could have imagined back home. He had a job and opportunity to grow intellectually even if that growth was isolated and lonely.

Wilkerson’s book rings a chord just because the reasons half the black population in the south left are ironically present with us today— second class citizenship and an urban caste system one inherits merely by the color of one’s skin or the block one lives on. In Oakland, the funding for public education is supposedly not affected by where one lives, but we all know that’s a popular myth which is certainly untrue.

Both authors, Wilkerson and Alexander, speak about a caste system, Alexander’s is more pressing if one looks at Oakland where more youngsters are caught in the judicial web in civically sanctioned curfews—more like house arrest. When one casually polls Oakland youth, more often than not, many of them are in some sort of custody—that is, they are enslaved and not free.

What does a kid do to change his or her circumstances? How is true transformation accomplished? Knowledge is the change agent, knowledge of oneself and knowledge of one’s world. This travel takes place quite often in books.

Malcolm X speaks of this often. People said of him that they always saw him with some reading material in his hands. Look at the Black Panther Party for Self Defense, its foundation centered on political education. Members were given books and got together regularly to discuss what they read.

Literacy is the mark of civilization and culture. Free libraries are so important! They are more important in the places where one feels the least safe than the places where the crime and violence is minimal.

Ignorance is the worse type of criminal act—it is genocide! When one has lost access to information, when an entire community has lost access to information that can transform its thinking and awaken its consciousness then this act—that is, the suspension of access to information and knowledge more effectively decimates a people than all the CIA dumping of crack and guns in urban communities.

These urban safe houses or libraries are where transformation takes place—libraries connect communities to each other, libraries also help people find themselves, even those who weren’t aware they were lost prior to stumbling in.

I used to think heaven was a library and the librarians angels. How can one be surrounded by so much information and not be a change agent—

I have lived in Oakland a long time. Raised in San Francisco and born in New Orleans, I remember the Greyhound bus ride when I was three with my mother and little brother to San Francisco to meet my dad, who sent us the ticket when he was released from Angola State prison, the largest state prison in the United States. Angola is also a former slave plantation, today the prisoners descendants of former enslaved Africans, the guards and prison administrators, descendants of former slave holders.

Uncanny coincidence isn't it?

Literary is close to me. I can touch it. I can touch the places in my life when people who looked like me couldn’t vote because they couldn’t read and write well enough to pass the test. My mother’s sisters were in public school, segregated schools when the governor of Louisiana closed down public education rather than have black kids attend with white kids. Do you know that for an entire year they were out of school? The white kids had private schools, but most of the black kids were dependent on public education.

It is the same with libraries. Where are the poorer kids going to go when the libraries shut down? Their parents aren’t going to be able to buy them all the books they want to read and what about those books out of print? Those rare titles? It will be what happened to the elders and the sick and shut in the disabled when the Oakland Public Library's Book Mobile was stopped. These patrons no longer have access to reading material. With the aging of our population, studies have shown that the more active we are mentally, the less likely early senility.

Reading is preventative medicine and prolongs the quality of one’s life.

I have lived in Oakland over 30 years and have served ten years on the Library Commission and on the Friends of the Oakland Public Library Board where as a writer for Off the Shelf (FOPL newsletter) wrote a profile on all the branches which numbered, at that time, 13, plus the Oakland History Room. As a columnist for the Oakland Tribune’s "Good News," Oakland Public Library featured often in my column as I highlighted delightful people.

I am a trustee of the Northern California Center for African American History and Life, the organization that partnered with the OPL to establish the African American Museum and Library, at Oakland. I knew many of the founders. I heard them talk about their vision for AAMLO and why such an institution is so important then and now.

I work for Peralta Community Colleges as a tenured professor, English faculty at the College of Alameda. I raised my children in West Oakland, and started, 21 years ago in February The African American Celebration through Poetry, the oldest program in the OPL system. I am a volunteer. When I started it, it was to keep the West Oakland Public Library open. The administrators felt that the West Oakland community, at that time, majority African and American didn’t need the branch open—so they would snatch staff and close the branch.

I remember all the measures and bills passed to secure the funding for library hours and staffing, also seismic retrofitting. Many a February approached, including 2011, when we weren’t sure if the West Oakland Branch Library would be open on the weekends. Several programs were spent getting the audience to write letters to council and the mayor to keep the branch open. And we survived another year and another year.

I have a long memory, most black people have to, as we aren't the one's telling the stories and so we have to remember things the way they were and pass it on. I remember all the branch librarians at West Oakland, Christine Saed, now Veronica Lee, and the library directors, Martin, Billie Dancy . . . at that time, most of them supportive of community programming and libraries as integral to community life and services. Mayor Elihu Harris was one of our best library supporters. He even visited the West Oakland Branch when we got computers.

I don’t understand why libraries are even on the cutting floor 2011-12 fiscal year. It is like sucking the oxygen out of the room and expecting us to live. The libraries are never a deficit item, and when these taxes are passed, the promises made to voters, at least where libraries are concerned are never kept.

What is to say this one will be? The general fund is a huge black hole that gobbles up resources irrespective of earmarks, at least where libraries and other important services, like Parks and Rec, the Arts, which includes the Film Office, and Senior Services, are concerned. If those departments which make life really worth living are always in jeopardy, what does that say about American society?

Why protect a life void of content? If one has nothing to live for, all the police on the street don’t matter. The value is internal and for some people that lesson is not intuitive—it has to be learned and how else than in a book about some great man or woman one can believe in?

I own a house in East Oakland, so all tax proposals affect my pocket. I don’t see the benefits of any city funding in my neighborhood—whether that is paved streets or bike paths, not to mention speed bumps or other public safety concerns like diesel trucks parked on residential streets, an environmental pollution concern. Just the other day my neighbor's dog was hit by a car and killed.

I am not opposed taxes when there are guarantees, just like the ones that are keeping the work around Lake Merritt on task as bus lines are cut and the death of Oakland is on the table—if you shut the libraries you kill our city.

Alert re: Jonestown Massacre Memorial Blocked!

2011-05-24T09:13:00.001-07:00

Wednesday, May 25, 2011, families represented by the Guyana Tribute Foundation, a non-profit corporation, and its founder Dr. Jynona Norwood (Plaintiffs), will hold a prayer vigil with community leaders and a press conference to take place on Alameda County Superior Courthouse steps beginning at 8:00 a.m., followed by their 9:00 a.m. court motion hearing for preliminary injunction against Evergreen Cemetery Association, Evergreen Cemetery president Buck Kamphausen, and the cemetery's executive director Ron Haulman (Defendants).

Phase I wall was revealed at ‘08 Jonestown Memorial Service.

The declaration will petition the court to prevent defendants, Fielding McGehee, Jim Jones Jr. and the People's Temple Church from using, transferring, encumbering or selling the site originally promised to accommodate the Jonestown Memorial Wall honoring the 918 adults and 305 children who perished Peoples Temple in Jonestown, Guyana, exclusive of People's Temple leader James Warren "Jim" Jones.

BACKGROUND:
After over three decades of planning on the part of the Guyana Tribute Foundation and activist Jynona Norwood whose family lost 27 loved ones including her mother and three-month-old cousin Charles Garry Henderson-he youngest child to perish in Jonestown--a granite memorial wall was approved to be erected at Oakland, California's Evergreen Cemetery. The memorial was to be inscribed with the names of the victims along with those of Congressman Leo Ryan and members of his film crew and placed on the site where most of the children who died in the 1978 Jonestown Massacre were laid to rest.

Despite having been previously approved by cemetery management, the memorial wall is now being opposed by a coalition led by Jim Jones leaders--in part, because the families represented by the Guyana Tribute Foundation and Norwood refuse to allow the Peoples Temple leader's name to be included.

Evergreen Cemetery has since alleged reasons for not erecting the wall, even though a significant payment has already been made to Amador/Marin Monument Company (Evergreen Cemetery's recommended vendor) for the wall's construction.

Norwood invites Jonestown victims' friends and family members, community leaders and concerned citizens to the courthouse steps in unity to stop the victimization of children everywhere. The determined advocate said, "I refuse to sit quietly, and passively allow the honoring of mass murderers to go unchallenged anywhere on the planet. It sends a wrong message worldwide and does not protect our children--living or dead."

To learn more about the Jonestown story and Dr. Norwood's efforts, visit www.jones-town.org.