Daniel Carlton's thoughts

"Harlembound" Claudia Hayden Featuring DANIEL CARLTON

2011-08-12T11:15:00.000-07:00

Daniel Carlton Storyteller'sthe sun,moon, rain Creation story intro and ...

2011-08-07T11:44:00.000-07:00

January Harvest-

2011-01-20T06:40:00.000-08:00

January 2011 has turned out to be the most creative month of my life . It feels like harvest time in terms of projects that I've either created and pitched last year, or folks interested in my participation in their events, and lastly the flow of inspiration that has stemmed from being so busy dancing with the spirits of creation.

I started this month on the 3rd rehearsing my verse play: A block of Time pt1: Pigfoot Mary Says Goodbye To The Harlem Renaissance. Last summer I saw a notice for submissions for plays that referenced the time period of that fertile age of cultural magnificence in the 1920's of Harlem , New York. My submission idea ( which was accepted) is not what I ultimately ended up doing. Initially I was going to group together a series of monologues that had the common theme of characters encounters with real icons from the Negro , Mecca". I was then going to plug those stories into a larger play called "A Block Of Time" after the festival was over. In December, while having a conversation with my dear friend the actress Benja K, a light bulb went off in my head about what the piece was missing; It needed a central character who the men could relate to. Benja , once told me the story of the entrepreneur Pigfoot Mary who made a small fortune selling pigs feet and other eats on the street corner of 135th and Leonox Avenue in Harlem during...... The Harlem Renaissance! Voila! The added bonus was/is being in a show with my friend too. I started out writing Ms Mary in a rhyming cadence. This led me to dismantle all of the previous monologues, and rewrite them in verse too. Details of where you can see this:

The Metropolitan Playhouse (212) 995 8410 for reservations www.metropolitanplayhouse.org 220 E 4th Street Between avenues a and B New York, NY

	Written by Daniel Carlton* Performed by Daniel Carlton* ,and Benja K* as Pigfoot Mary Is today Pigfoot Mary's last day selling her eats on the streets of Harlem in the 1920's? Who are Hot Fingers The Piano Player, The Garveyite, Crispus The Numbers Runner, and General Wilson the street veteran? How do Langston Hughes, Paul Laurence Dunbar, A'lia Walker, Countee Cullen Zora Neale Hurston, and many more Harlem renaissance figures fit into their lives? All told in Verse! Starring Daniel Carlton* and Benja K* Added bonus voiceovers featuring Harrison Lee, Queen Esther, Cornelius Bates , Bruce Hawkins and Genovis Albright - All for only $18 or use your Equity card* $10 for youth under 18 Appear courtesy of Actor's Equity Dates: Jan-19th ,25th, 28th , 7 PM except Jan 30th at 4pm Harvest 2 :* The Schomberg Center For Research in Black Culture NYC I am directing a children's play called " The Dream Inn that will be performed as part of Langston Hugues's birthday celebration , This play is a collection of Mr Hughes poetry that I have woven into a narrative about the Great Migration into Harlem in it's early days. I am also presenting a work in progress of a documentary that I am filming called " Langston in Harlem" This is based on a series of interviews that I am doing with a variety of Harlem folks about the way that they view him, his impact on their lives, and lastly a creative piece of his that they remember well enough to recite. Harvest 3 : I am participating in an event called Medicine Men at the Dwyer Cultural Center in Harlem I have written , and will perform two pieces for this_I'm really going out on a limb for one of the pieces called "Bury Me Pretty" come see what I mean Harvest 4 The Schomburg Center's 85th Anniversary Gala and Tribute to Howard Dodson www.youtube.com The Gala Evening on January 24, 2011 at Aaron Davis Hall 138 Convent Avenue (West 135th Street and Convent Avenue) New York, NY 10031 For information call 212-491-2206 or visit schomburgcenter.org The anniversary celebration will feature the premiere of a multimedia performing arts work. Directed by the amazing George Faison . I am one of the narrators at this event that has some SERIOUS star power up on the stage too. No name dropping of course but-some of these folks-I've dreamed of working with Feb- ( I'm aiming to release my book of poetry "Harlem Haikus and afro bits" on Amazon's Kindle e reader platform More to come! Tell me about your harvests too-ok -and thanks!

A repeat -my annual Harlem X Mas poem-but it could be anywhere

2010-12-21T05:52:00.000-08:00

Was The Night Before Christmas ( and all through the hood) A Daniel Carlton Joint

Harlem Christmas

By Daniel Carlton

It was the night before Christmas

All through the hood

Things were type quiet

You could say all good

The crack fiends were chilling

The weed heads and alkies too

It was so chill

Like the whole block took medicine for the flu

Windows were blinging

With colorful lights

It was like being in Times Square at midnight

The kids sleeping hard

But keeping their cool

On none of their mouths could you see any drool.

Dreaming about X boxes, dolls, and play stations too

Don’t Dreaming make the world feel brand new?

My shorty who is as fine as can be

Was looking flavalicious delicious

Hanging lights on the tree

I was about to give a hug you know, get me some love

When I heard this sound on the fire escape above

I grabbed my bat and ran to the window

Somebody is trying to get hurt messing with my flow

I looked up and saw this dude who was big like fat Joe

Or was it a pimp?

I kept hearing ho, ho,ho

Below on the street was a raggedy ride

I must of been tripping

It looked like it could fly

It was tagged up with some crazy names

Like dancer and prancer and does that say Rick James?

I needed a closer look to see what was up with this dude

But my Grandma would pop me if she saw me being rude

Then he looked at me with bight shiny eyes

I could tell that it wasn’t because he was high

He had on a red suit that looked real nice

His white belt was so big -on me- it would wrap around twice

His beard game was smooth

His sideburns were tight

Something about him was chill

Not looking for a fight

Then it hit me

I swear that it did

I hadn’t thought about him since I was a kid

He said “I see that you recognize who I am”

Then he rubbed his big belly full of mac and cheeses, fried chicken and ham

“ It’s good to be back in Harlem

This much is true”

“The Schomberg, Apollo, and Lenox Avenue too.

I,ve got to get over to Slyvia’s and get some soul food for my boo.”

“But first it ‘s time to pass out these gifts”

“The folks of Harlem need things that uplift”

“I can’t give out apartments that people can afford.

Somebody better get it together before they become null and void”

“I can’t teach the children how to read

Recognize that in your house video games aren’t a need”

“A book is the way to travel real cheap

You don’t even have to leave your couch and the stars you can reach”

“Everybody in life wants to have fun

How does that work if you have a gun?”

“Parents when they take time with young ones

Become the youth’s connection to the sun”

“Kids need to be kids

They’ll grow up soon enough

They’ll find out that without love

Life can be rough”

“Love has to work two ways though

Or you’ll find yourself in a hole face down and covered with snow”

With that said I have to bounce-you know time to go”

“Ho, Ho , Ho”

He was gone like a ghost.

Without leaving toys his presents were still the most

The gift of knowledge was what he dropped

If we use them and share them

We can’t be stopped.

Sing with me( To the tune of Good Times) "Aint We Lucky we got It "Gentrified"

2010-12-13T07:25:00.001-08:00

A friend posted the lyrics to the theme song from the show "Good Times" the other day. This got me to thinking about how much I loved this show as a little kid." Sing with me y'all "

Just looking out of the window watching the asphalt grow"-huh? Thinking how it all looks hand me down" Good times "Temporary layoffs- Good Times- Easy Credit Rip Offs - Good Times- Scratching Surviving - Good Times. Hanging In a Chow Line( was just told what that lyric was after all of these years) " Aint we lucky we got em-good tiiimes -Yeah!

" On paper (now) we could all read those lyrics and go wtf? The plots were kind of heavy too. James the father would finally get a job after searching for months -only to then get laid off on his first day before his lunch break. The Kids would get mugged in the elevator (when it worked) , child abuse across the hall ( Micheal Jackson's little sister no less), gangs ( who could be intimidated by one hard look from the dad), teenage pregnancy, broken dreams,e.t.c. Oh and the word ghetto was used so often that it felt like an alternate/parallel universe where hard times were always still good times in the end. Man , did I love their" ghetto" much more then I did my own various "hoods" thats for sure. Maybe it was the laugh track.

Neighborhoods change from ghettos to hot and happening properties that's for sure.

Today the kids on "Different Strokes" could be adopted by a rich white man who moves them ....right across the street.

Cue laugh track:

My pitch for a new TV show: "Gentrified" Watch the wacky shenanigans of a family trying to hold on to their apartment as they try to get their kids through a failing school, budget an unemployment check, and sip mojitos at the new in spot in their suddenly hip neighborhood.

Episode # 1 - We see our head of household mother ( named after a state of course) staring at the bills. An R Kelly inspirational song is playing in the background

cue laugh track :

A knock is heard on the door. It is her 22 year old neighbor-who shares the apartment with 10 other 22 year olds straight out of college (and new to the up and coming area renamed by hip downtown newspapers). She is here to apologize to our head of household single parent for not recognizing her while she (the mother) was standing at the door with her hands full of grocery bags fumbling for her keys. "I mean but really , it was an honest mistake when I let the door slam in your face instead of holding it for you and letting you in" said our fresh from Idaho innocent neighbor. "This hood can still be a bit dicey if you know what I mean" She adds for good measure. The mother slams her door. A loud rap song can be heard from the apartment of our "anyone could have made the same mistake" perplexed innocent neighbor as she exits into her great "deal"( for hundreds of dollars a month more) apt . The last sound is of her roommates chanting along to the chorus" I keep it real son/ Got my Gun/ I keep it real son/ In my hood we never run. Or " Wu Tang Clan aint Nothin to $%#% with"

Cue :Laugh track*

Scene 2 : We see a tall and dark young man walking down the street. He is dressed in a shirt and tie. He is wearing a fitted baseball cap. we don't know where he is headed , but based on the attention that he is getting from the various police who stop and frisk him every 20 yards or so, he is clearly an important person of interest.
Cue laugh track as he empties his pockets and assumes the position for the 15th time.

Scene 3 : A crowded cafe. Well heeled patrons are enjoying wine and various culinary treats. One of the original neighborhood residents walks in-Dead silence

Cue Laugh track

Scene 4 - Her daughter who is working 2 jobs shows up to her first gig which is a bank. The manager tells her that she is being laid off. He does an exaggerated " What can I do?" shrug. Camera pans in on the stimulus check sitting on his desk.

cue laugh track

Aint we lucky we got it? Gentrifiiiiiiied -yeah!

It's the laugh track right?

Scottsboro Boys The Musical/ Double Consciousness In The Theater and even In This Review

2010-12-03T14:10:00.000-08:00

Saw a play last night on Broadway aka "The Great White Way called The Scottsboro Boys Musical. The premise : A minstrel show performance to tell the tale of 9 young Black men who were charged with assaulting and raping two white women in a train car during the year 1931 in the state of Alabama. I couldn't help but think of W.E.B Dubois and double consciousness as I took in this mode of a storytelling device .

Some definition in the actual quote before I go on:

From W.E.B Dubois

"It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one's self through the eyes of others, of measuring one's soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his two-ness,--an American, a Negro; two warring souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder"

I watched the show from double perspectives.

Two-ness:

Consciousness 1) In terms of the art of it all -The acting was flawless. The staging was clever. The history accurate. The props and minimal set -brilliant . The songs-wonderful and touching. I would make a terrible critic, because I usually get what the creators are trying to do and say . In this case I believe that it was showing through the minstrel show how ridiculous the dehumanizing imagery appears in the context of a story that shows what the inside lives of these innocent victims of American stereotyping and fear of the Black man looks like if you changed the lens in which this was viewed. The cultural diet that fueled the hate and violence perpetuated against us for so long was fortified by images on stage, film, visual art and even toys that presented us as comical savages who could on a dime into wild beasts that had to be contained by any means necessary. Minstrel shows were very popular forms of entertainment for folks who liked a good , fun, and safe coon show. In this production by using the Black actors to play the white folks in all their ridiculousness , hatred, manipulations, and negative contribution to the narrative of a justice journey reenacted from the prospective of the wronged using the tool(the minstrel show itself), a reversal was the intent.

Consciousness 2 ) The first 15 minutes of this show was such a tour de force coon show that it left a knot in my stomach that stayed the entire show. As many of the non blacks laughed hardily at the depictions of exaggerated showmanship . bad jokes, rubbery faces , I had to keep telling myself that there was a bigger point to the whole thing. Sheer will kept me from just walking out. My logical self kept telling my emotional self that any non Black person who bought tickets to a show titled The Scottsboro Boys was probably not a member of the KKK-but what was so damn funny about Tambo and Bones? The clothes, makeup, dancing, singing , were painful reminders that entertainment first-history 2nd was the priority order. I could have absorbed so much more of the story without having to calm myself down throughout when the cooning would become to much. The ending tried to tie all of it together by bringing all of the characters on stage in blackface for the finale; They then wipe it off in an act of defiance against the White ringmaster. I get it. I would have gotten it anyway( without the final trip into degradation). The history of this gross miscarriage of justice is enough of a story-it doesn't need to be guided by a white man, buffoonery as a guide into the real storytelling, or anything else but the truth of it all.

I am not the art police. I know how tricky intent and final execution can be in the creation of art. I have a character in my show " Memories of Self: Timeless Journey To Weeksville who is a minstrel performer. The premise is that you are the first white visitor into his house. This performer bought his house from the proceeds of his "entertaining" He quotes Shakespeare and Plato often. When he believes that he is exposing to much , he slips back into the dialect that he believes is the only way that the visitor can accept all of his story. Why ? I will quote that great poet Dunbar; We Wear the Mask

WE wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!

The show is closing soon. I suggest that you see it -so that we can talk about it( From either or both layers of our consciousness.

Shadows In The Dark- World Aids Day 2010-a repeat posting

2010-12-01T10:36:00.001-08:00

This came out of an exercise that I did with a group of young people around H.I.V.

Shadows In The Dark

By Daniel Carlton

I am

A shadow in the dark

In need of a spark

Ask me no secrets

Or I’ll tell you all lies

I’m all about creeping

It’s you who need the alibis

Fluids flow through intertwined bodies above below, and between the sheets

Hidden for the temporary blindness provided by lust and it’s heat

Denial and wishful thinking meet on this dead end street

Blinded by orgasms that bind instant gratification

Passport less I travel through nations

Reality on vacation

Guarantees new patients

Believing that protection is akin to castration

Gives chance after chance for me to stream through a cell creating mutations

I pursued /stalked/ trailed:

a player known as Magic

Arthur Ashe’s blood transfusion turned tragic

A kid who would never grow old named Ryan White

In addition to me there was fear and hate that he had to fight

Not only celebrities pretend that they don’t love who they love

Word from the pulpit “ Punish them freaks with justice from above”

Junkies on lines trying to ease some kind of pain

A short trip for all via mainlines to their veins

Babies seeking food from the gift of the breast

Mothers who never suspected that they needed a test

Not just some dude locked up and down low

A Hint Of Something :

I ‘m potentially everyone that you know

Synonyms: stalker, tail, tracker, pursuer

For Colored (Blank) Who've Considered Suicide when the ( Blank) wasn't enough

2010-10-07T20:54:00.001-07:00

Image via Wikipedia
So Tyler Perry will soon release the movie Version of For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow Is Enuf is a 1975 play by Ntozake Shange. It's such a classic for so many folks( particularly Women Of Color) that it's hard for some to imagine what in the world is Tyler Perry going to do to it?

The writer herself chimed in recently saying something to the effect of telling him that he'd better not bring Madea into it. I am reserving judgement of course until I see it on cable. I'm sure that it will be a girls night out for women all over the Diaspora the way that Waiting To Exhale was ( and Sex In The City too) . I'm not particularly interested in sitting for two hours of AmenCorner bonding over the "Brutha's aint sh%$%&^T" See how bad they do us" bonding. I don't however deny the value and need to hear Sistah's voices. When I was a kid , I hated the Color Purple because I thought that the message was Black Men aint no damn good. As an adult , I see both the pathos and triumph in the story Perspective can and does change.. Maybe one day I'll actually see "How Stella Got her Groove back

In the meantime, here is my list of For Colored (Blank) Who've Considered Suicide when the ( Blank) wasn't enough :

For Colored contact wearers.Who've Considered Suicide …When the blonde weave wasn’t enough
For Orange Colored Jump Suit wearers who've considered suicide when parole wasn't
enough
For multi colored suit wearers who've considered suicide when rainbow gators weren't enough
For National Association For The Advancement of Colored people who considered suicide when Black members of the tea party were too much
enough
For Color Tv watchers who've considered black and white or cable suicide when the BET awards were too much
For Rose colored glasses wearers who considered suicide when The tea party’s rainbow coalition attacks were enough

For Sun colored Brown Indigenous People who’ve considered Suicide when The Nina , Pinta, and The Santa Maria wasn’t enough

Langston dreams/the nightmares of war

2010-09-12T15:01:00.000-07:00

Many of us know the great and prolific Langston Hughes because of his dream poems. His ability to capture the voices of the people of Harlem in my opinion is unparalleled. The plays, poems, and short stories are the essence of Black America. Mr Hughes had some less publicized themes in his work too: He was crystal clear in his verses about war and it's cause /effect on the world.
(War by Langston Hughes)
The face of war is your face/ the face of war is my face
What color is the face of war?
Brown, Black.,White- your face and my face.
Death is the broom I take in my hands/ To sweep the world clean
I sweep and I sweep/ Then mop and I mop
I dip my broom in blood/my mop in blood/ and blame you for this
Because you are there/Enemy/
It’s hard to blame me, because I am here
So I kill you/ and you kill me
My name/like your name
Is War

Or: Comment On War
"Let us kill off our youth/For the sake of truth/ We who are old know what TRUTH is/ Truth is a bundle of vicious lies/tied together and sterilized-A war makers bait for unwise youth/To kill off each other /For the sake of TRUTH"

and: “Poem To A dead solider”

We who sent you to your doom/ now we make soft speeches/and sob soft cries/and throw soft flowers/and utter soft lies

But of course this is Mr Hughes, solutions and demands from the people's perspective are always available in his huge canon:
: (Give Us Our Peace
Give us a peace equal to the war Or else our souls will be unsatisfied/
And we will wonder what he have fought for/and why the many died
Give us a peace accepting every challenge
The challenge of the poor, the black of all denied/ the challenge of the vast colonial world that long has had so little justice by it’s side.
Give us a peace that dares us to be wise/Give us a peace that dares us to be strong
Throughout the peace our battle against wrong
Give us a piece that is not cheaply used
A peace that is no clever scheme/ A people’s peace for which men can enthuse/A peace that brings reality to our dream
Give us a Peace that will enlist a mighty army serving all mankind
Not just an army geared to kill/ but trained to help the living mind
An army trained to help the common good/and bring about a world of brotherhood

A few years ago, I wrote a play with some high school students around these poems ( titled Love And War) The students added their own poems around the theme of the heart as a battlefield.
These poems are from the excellent : The Collected Poems Of Langston Hughes.
Peace!

Kool Aid Smiles-or Let's reclaim it before it becomes what the Tea Party has become to tea and parties

2010-07-26T08:23:00.000-07:00

Word Association: Tea Party? What comes to mind? Palin, racists, President Obama haters, people spitting on freedom fighting/peace loving icons from the civil rights movement. Maybe even the whole Boston thing back in Colonial times is where it is for you( although Crispus Attacks* is the only part of that scene that interests me). Just a few years back : Little girls pretending that there Barbie dolls were having a pleasant afternoon,or genteel gatherings to discuss arts and culture. Or just the Brits being anti coffee snobs.

Kool Aid : Jim Jones and The Jonestown Massacre-which probably led to folks believing that it is synonymous with a fatal last drink because you believed in a false prophets' demand that you take a sip as your final ambrosia before an awaited next life paradise.

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! Let us reclaim our drinks as good times/ liquid fun.
We better do it (heaven forbid ) before it happens to lemon aid too.

Ok lets visualize: Picture yourself on a hot summer day during your childhood. You've just come from outside soaked in sweat; You open the refrigerator door and see that pitcher just glistening. What's in it. KOOL AID ( insert flavor)! Sure, there is enough sugar in that one plastic picture to give half of China diabetes( but that's not the point here). You were on your way to a kool aid smile. Why you probably wouldn't have been shocked if while you were sipping on the bomb drink-the Kool aid giant smiling pitcher with legs and arms came crashing through the walls! Today he would be called the multi flavored terrorist for doing that. Reclaim Our Drinks Folks!
It may be too late for tea. Let's not let Kool Aid get shifted into propaganda in strawberry, celebrity gossip in cherry, war against terrorism/military industrial complex in lime,police brutality/justified law enforcement homicide in grape, or anything else that could corrupt:
Apple, Bunch Berry, Blastin' Berry Cherry, Blue Berry Blast, Cherry, Cherry Cracker, Chocolate, Cola, Eerie Orange, Frutas, Frutas Vermelhas, Golden Nectar, Grape, Grape Blackberry, Grape Tang, Melon Mango, Strawberry Splash, Great Blueberry, Great Blue-dini, Groselha, Guaraná,Ice Blue Raspberry Lemonade, Incrediberry, Kickin-Kiwi-Lime, Kolita, Lemon, Lemonade, Lemonade Sparkle, Lemon-Lime,Lime, Man-o-Mangoberry, Mango, Mountainberry Punch, Oh-Yeah Orange-Pineapple, Orange, Orange Enerjooz, Pina-Pineapple, Pink Lemonade, Pink Swimmingo, Purplesaurus Rex, Rainbow Punch, Raspberry, Roarin' Raspberry Cranberry, Rock-a-Dile Red, Root Beer, Scary Black Cherry, Scary Blackberry, Sharkleberry Fin, Slammin' Strawberry-Kiwi, Soarin' Strawberry-Lemonade, Strawberry, Strawberry Falls Punch, Strawberry Split, Strawberry-Raspberry, Sunshine Punch, Surfin' Berry Punch, Tangerine, Tropical Punch, Watermelon-Cherry, Shaking Starfruit

Maybe I'll start the Kool Aid Party! Daniel Carlton says " You are the flavor that you savor". Reclaim Your Drinks!

* Crispus Attacks ( A Black Man) was considered by many historians to be the first person to die in the American Revolution

Teaching Artistry: A bit of my past year/recording and justifying the magic/ thanks

2010-07-18T11:32:00.001-07:00

This past year was very fruitful for me as a teaching artist. As many of you know, I am always trying to strike the balance between my active artistry, and work as a teaching artist. Whenever I perform as an actor or storyteller, the response is immediate in the form of applause or the feedback immediately after. The teaching artist stuff is a little trickier. Because many of these gigs are funded by grants that have very specific criteria,the work is evaluated more in terms of the goals of the grant being met more than anything else.Oftentimes you wonder if evaluators have any sense of the magic that is not always apparent from the way that they quantify success. For example,I took a group of young men from a High School in Harlem to do a community clean up this spring. These young brothers came up with this idea themselves. How did we travel to that point of self determination? Poetry, monologues, discussion, role plays, and brainstorming by using the arts as a foundation. I remember one of the evaluators during a site visit asking me what these activities had to do with their academic development ? My answer was "everything."
I made several short films documenting some of my projects this past year, because I've come to the conclusion that for many folks it's easier for them to get it if they see it through process. The film of the Community clean up is called"Harlem Me".
I also have "Future now" that I filmed of some teens in a Harlem Homeless Family Shelter, and "Haters No, Dreamers Yes" filmed with a 9th class with mostly English as a second language speakers in Bushwick , Brooklyn. What I have captured probably wouldn't pass anybody's test of pristine camera, sound, etc., but they do serve as a record of the magic.
Like all years, I've had some administrators who get it, and some who don't(such is the nature of teaching artist work) One principal was very angry with me, because prior to showing a video of some teens in Brownsville Brooklyn doing poetry, that I didn't explain to an audience of their peers what they were about to watch. I honestly didn't know what to say. I felt that the poems would speak for themselves. There are those, however who see us and what we are trying to do even when we don't think that people get it. The following is an email that I received recently from a school that like many in NYC is suffering budget cuts , and therefore won't be able to use me after a 3 year relationship. The wonderful woman who wrote this was just laid off. She captures me working in a moment that I didn't even realize she was paying close attention to.

Dear Daniel,

I hope the summer is going well for you and that this email finds you in good health.
This is to formally let you know that SSR will not be granted the Extended Day/Violence Prevention grant that enabled to school to take advantage of your excellent services and it is unlikely, given the school's tight budget, that there will be sufficient funds elsewhere to retain your services.

I would like to thank you and Blackberry Production for your years of service at this school. Of all the talents that you brought to the school Daniel, I think your greatest was the ability to inspire students. You have such a friendly, warm way with students, At the same time you didn't try to become a peer so that they would like you, you would not accept anything but their best, pushing them to expect more of themselves and to do more. This resulted in so many wonderful performances at the school, most of which has been written by the students.
I remember the last interaction that I witnessed with you working with a student. It was Ramshah, she refused to perform her poem at Brooklyn College because she didn't think that she could do it effectively - she was upset. You didn't try to persuade her to go, you just calmly asked her to read her poem to you. Then you asked her to read it again. You pointed out a few areas where she could put emphasis and where to pause. She read it again and again; each time you suggested something new that she could do to improve her delivery. Within an hour she felt confident enough to perform on stage, now she is unstoppable. So many SSR students have benefited from your talents and your ability to bring out theirs. You have been with them in the classroom, on stage, making videos, teaching them the history of blacks in Brooklyn and so much more. You gave of your time, way beyond what was paid. You gave us the gift of yourself and we are grateful. Allow me to wish you the greatest of success for you and your organization. I pretty sure I will be seeing you on the big screen in the future.

With love and respect

Joan Vendryes

and one more. This was a tour that I gave of Harlem to some young folks

The Leaders-In-Training had a GREAT time on Saturday. Daniel Carlton is a dynamic, engaging, very fun person to be around! The teens were on the quieter side, but I know they got a lot out of the film, the discussion, and walking tour. Please let Daniel know that we were thrilled to have him as such an important part of our day. And having posters and information packets to give to all of them was very generous. Thank you!!!
Many thanks again!!
Best,Gaby

Gaby Moss
Executive Director, Camp AmeriKids

My fellow teaching artists-some folks do get it

It's Hotter than.......

2010-07-05T13:37:00.000-07:00

We are experiencing a heatwave in New York City. How hot is it? It's :

Hotter than……..
A fresh lie
A new truth
A Black Panther FBI file in the 60’s
An overrated rapper
Willie the Wino’s breath
A reciprocated lustful gaze
Grandma’s kitchen in August when she insists on frying that fish.
A prison cell in the Congo
A crack head’s television set
Benyonce’s thong
A hidden s.t.d
The movie “Do The Right Thing” in a movie theatre without air conditioning in July
A Rasta’s scalp
Misplaced pride
An idea ahead of conventional wisdom
Daniel Carlton’s thoughts

by Daniel Carlton

Remember The Time -The Black Soldier

2010-05-31T15:47:00.000-07:00

: The You Tube Clip is from the excellent PBS documentary "For Love of Liberty: The Story of America's Black Patriots"

Happy Memorial Day : Here is an excerpt from my show "Memories Of Self Journey to Weeksville" The character has just returned home from WW1. He is missing an arm that he lost in battle. This is a fictional character -but a very real history.

"Don’t mean to sound bitter, but Brooklyn is a long way from Germany where my brothers died. so that Europe could be free while we fight for every inch that we can get here at home.
Funny thing is, there was a whole lot of folks who doubted us from the beginning. See, we Men out of New York and Brooklyn was all a part of the National Guard. How we became part of the French Army is all part of the story. Before we even left the States, they had us segregated from the Whites. Many of the Men had left the South thinking that they had seen the last of old Jim Crow. Basic training put a stop to that wishful thinking. On some days during training we were treated like the soilders that we dreamed of being. On other days we were given equipment including guns that didn’t work right. Things were explained to us as if we were too dumb to understand what they really meant. Sometimes we would have Colored Officers, but they suddenly wouldn’t be there. We were told to ask no questions. Every man to a fault in spite of this was still ready to show the world that our race was just as qualified as ANYBODY else. We was even more determined after they gave all of the troops leaving for the war a big parade on fifth Avenue; all of the troops except us the 369th. We was only good enough to die in some people’s eyes. I guess that they had to eat their words when we came back known as The Harlem Hellfighters.
We were sent to the Western Front. At first we had to do all of the dirty work that the White Boys wasn’t being asked to do like dragging dead bodies out of the way while bullets flew over our heads. Lots of times we was asked to match parts that were separated from the bodies. Digging graves or trenches, no job was to dirty for us. Mr. Williams would have been proud to see that we did everything with pride. We had a feeling that the whole world might be watching us. When the orders came for us to fight, we fought like hell. That’s how we got our name. Although just as many of us was from Brooklyn, Harlem was getting a reputation as the home of the Negro. Didn’t matter to us. Race is a strange thing aint it? At first the Europeans was cheering us dark fellows whenever we would go into a town. We was taking care of business when it came to stopping the Germans. Everybody knew it. The children would run after us just so they could touch our uniforms. Then all of a sudden the look in their faces changed. We couldn’t figure out why until one of our men who spoke French told us that the White American troops was telling them that we had tails and other animal parts. We was also being told by our Superior Officers not to fraternize with civilians. Meanwhile lots of them were taking up with their women. I forgot to mention that we fought so well that we were given to the French army. We spent 191 days in combat. That was longer than any other American unit. We were the first troops to reach the Rhine. One time we were defending an outpost and were attacked by the Germans. So many of our men were wounded that it looked like a blood bath. We didn’t surrender, but kept on fighting. I killed two men with my bare hands. We finally won that battle. Take that Jim Crow. The French gave us their highest award called the Croix de Guerre. If that didn’t show them what we men can do then nothing will.
So here I am home in Brooklyn. I hope that Mr. Williams can come to our parade tomorrow. It’s going to be on 5th Avenue. I hope that he feels that we did our race proud."
by Daniel Carlton -copyright 2007

All That Jazz courtesy of Wynton and The Jazz At Lincoln Center Orchestra

2010-05-14T19:40:00.000-07:00

Lonnie Liston Smith via last.fm

I must admit to something that I have probably never admitted out loud : Prior to my attendance at Jazz at Lincoln Center Performances here in NYC, I was not that big of a fan of Jazz pre 1970 ( Bebop , Free , Post Bop, Swing , Dixieland, e.t.c.). The exception being Miles's stuff (particularly "Kind Of Blue, "Sketches Of Spain" , "In A Silent Way , and songs like My Funny Valentine). Miles's notes through his horn have always spoken a beautiful language that seems to come from another universe. But in most cases I have always found the bios of the musicians more fascinating sometimes then the music itself. The history of Jazz itself is enough to fill a history head like myself up with stories of triumph, tragedy, race, class, genius, transcendence, dope, hope, migration, internationalism, poetry, aesthetics, style, and grace under pressure. Mingus, Ellington, Dizzy, Satchmo, Charlie "Bird", Coltrane, Max Roach, Philly Jones, Bud Powell , and so many giants that I haven't mentioned all have epic tales to go along with their mastery of the art form.
My taste in terms of jazz though was formed by a more funky genre bending mash up of guitars, synthesizers, amplification, and groove put down by folks like Herbie Hancock(Headhunters), Miles (On The Corner/Bitches Brew/Live/Evil/Jack Johnson/ Get Up With It/ e.t.c), Stanley Clarke ( School Days/his Return To Forever Work / Journey To Love/e.t.c) George Duke, Jaco Pastorius, Marcus Miller, Roy Ayers, Lonnie Liston Smith, Weather Report, and many of the "fusion" artists. Steely Dan, Earth Wind and Fire, Santana, Mandrill, and other rock/pop/soul/funk artists who were influenced by the muscians that I just mentioned were also Jazz to me.
What does this have to do with Jazz at Lincoln center and Wynton Marseilles? Attending the concerts there have given me a musical education though the music it'self of the masters. Every concert that I have seen there has been a tribute to a past master. In some cases the master him/herself is present.He(Wynton ) not only plays the idea with the orchestra ; he also gives you a story anout the artist and the tune. The orchestra itself is a marvel and treat to the ears. All accomplished players who also do some of the arrangements too. Dig if you will this picture : 12 or more horn players-multi racial, various ages, and in suits on a bandstand, Upright Bass, Grand piano, Drum Kit-sometimes two drummers , and guest masters. Try to imagine all of those horns in syncopation and solos. Wynton Marseilles just by himself can sound like Gabriel blowing from heavens gates.
Memorable and Educational Moments for me there:

Ahmad Jamal was a discovery for me( his playing made me go into his discography and learn about a living legend

The Women Of Ellington
"Satin Doll", Black Beauty" from 1928!, Portrait of Mahalia Jackson," from the composer’s 1971 New Orleans Suite , "Gal From Joe’s" , Red Roses For A Blue Lady,",All Heart"(dedicated to Ella Fitzgerald), Shout ‘Em Aunt Tillie," "Miss Lucy," and "Country Gal." Each song had an incredible story. The span was over 50 years.

Basie & The Blues:special guest pianist Cyrus Chestnut

Ask Your Mama featuring Joe Lovano, The Roots, Jessye Norman and Nnenna Freelon
A Concert to Benefit Haiti

This what I dug last year
:Eddie Palmieri’s Latin-jazz big band (Feb. 6 to 7); a 50th-anniversary concert in honor of two landmark albums, John Coltrane’s “Giant Steps” and Miles Davis’s “Kind of Blue” (Feb. 12 to 14); and a run of concerts by a quintet led by the keyboardist Chick Corea and the guitarist John McLaughlin (April 23 to 25).

I could go on because there is so much more going on there. The touch screen exhibit/tribute to the masters alone is worth it.

I once had issues with Wynton Marseilles because I thought that he was trying to control the idea of what good Jazz is. As much as I learned from Ken Burns excellent PBS Jazz series, I was bothered by what I perceived as his( and Stanley Crouch's) rejection of the type of jazz that turned me on. I will admit that his vision for the orchestra and concert hall has expanded my appreciation for the past that I missed in terms of the music.
Jazz at Lincoln center, I walk in feeling like the mud of the week is on me. I walk out feeling bathed in cleansing notes. Like I'm wearing a fresh new suit and a shape up

Alberta Hunter =Sustained Excellence=Don't Call It A Comeback, I was here for years

2010-05-04T10:49:00.000-07:00

Alberta Hunter via last.fm

Last week( April 29th,2010), I had the pleasure of being a part of the wonderfully talented singer/actress, and writer Queen Esther's tribute to the incomparable Alberta Hunter( Harlem Stage/Jazzmobile sponsored). My role was to narrate/ through storytelling within the spaces in the music the life of this legend. In order to do this I not only had to know the songs, but I also had to really know the her-story of the journey. Queen Esther was very generous in terms of the execution of the delivery. She did suggest to me that I watch the excellent documentary called Alberta Hunter: My Castle's Rockin' (1998), a documentary written by Chris Albertson and narrated by pianist Billy Taylor.http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0364775/ I was able to to both enjoy her voice, and to get a strong sense of the story from the archival footage. And what a story it was:

From Wikipedia
"Alberta Hunter (April 1, 1895 – October 17, 1984)[1] was an American blues singer, songwriter, and nurse. Her career had started back in the early 1920s, and from there on, she became a successful jazz and blues recording artist, being critically acclaimed to the ranks of Ethel Waters and Bessie Smith. In the 1950s, she retired from performing and entered the medical field, only to successfully resume her singing career in her eighties

This Lady did it all with such excellence for a long tine. From songwriting Downhearted Blues( a major hit for Bessie Smith) and many others, to Showboat with Paul Robeson. Singing in 7 different languages and USO tours during WWII and The Korean conflict, lying about her age to become a nurse in her late fifties-she said that she was 43-retiring after 20 years, and then making a comeback at 79!
Queen Esther and I haven taken on the joyous act of telling this story. She through the music and her incredible band-and me through interwoven storytelling and rhyme. We plan to put this show back up( so stay tuned) Meanwhile here is a piece(not from the show) that I wrote from the fictional voice of a piano player who was at The Dreamland Cafe hoping to play for her:
Brothel piano player in Chicago 1915

So this pretty little thing walks into a bar where there were more bullet holes in the walls then notes on the piano and she says like she is a woman ten years older , stronger and wiser than she probally was “ I’m a singer”. Now I knew who she was cause I always wanted to play for her. Something about her was bigger , tougher and sweeter then all of the dark clouds of gloom disguised as cigarette smoke in this promised land called Chicago. Why do I say it like that that? I aint got to tell nobody about the gangsters , pimps, and whores that love nothing more than to see somebody elses’ throat not they own after a night of good timing in these buckets of blood. Hell, I even knew who she was cause of where she used to sing- Dago Frank’s. That was around 1911 , so she must have been around 16 years old when she first started out. Don’t nobody ask to many questions about these things when somebody got talent if you know what I mean. And Alberta had it for sure. It’s a shame that the coppers shut that place down cause of one more murder that they couldn’t overlook. Sporting men piano players like myself hear about who’s got the goods when it comes to music, so I wasn’t surprised when she got that gig at the Elite Café on State Street with that Ragtime Sissy out of New Orleans Tony Jackson . He sure got a hit with her singing his songs like “Pretty Baby” Now I see why they got on so good. See she had a husband that nobody ever seen her kissing and hugging on. Hell after a while nobody seen him at all . Seen her plenty with her( sarcastically) “friend Lottie , Bert Willams niece. And Lord Knows who Pretty Baby was meant for. We still talking about Chicago in about 1915 or so by then, which means them shootings and carrying ons was still closing the even the best of joints down. Alberta couldn’t even get away from it when she was playing clubs that was just for White folks like The Panama , Deluxe Café or even Dreamland Café. Now the Dreamland Café was so special that King Oliver’ Creole Jazz band would have them waiting on lines down the block just to get in. They started calling her “ The Sweetheart of Dreamland.” She was getting real big, but one more time this is Chicago . You already know what I’m about to say . The piano player was shot and killed while they was on stage. This was my chance. I know how to duck. But before I could play one note she upped and moved to New York City. Damn

My take on the Gates arrest

2009-07-24T22:05:00.000-07:00

President Obama is a very smart man who knows that in his position that he has to be very careful with his words. I understand why he would have to pull back from the use of the word “ Stupidly” in reference to the Cambridge Mass. Officer’s action of arresting a man for mouthing off in his own home. I believe that President Obama initially had the same punched in the gut reaction that many Black men in America feel when we hear about the police profiling, intimidating, or arresting a brother based on his “attitude” Take a poll of 100 black men concerning this issue, I estimate that 75 of them could tell that it happened to them. Many of them could tell you stories (particularly when they were in their teens and twenties) about a specific humiliating incident that could have easily turned into jail (or even deadly) if the cop didn’t like their attitude. I strongly disagree with those who think that Dr, Gates actions were those of a elitist during the incident. “Do you know who I am” or “Do you know who you’re messing with” are words that many of us brothers never got a chance to say when we found ourselves in situations that left us confused as to how we got in this situation in the first place. Words can’t describe the depth of shock that happens when law abiding you becomes an instant suspect . Amadou Diallo, Sean Bell, Oscar Grant , and countless others were killed by cops in the blink of an eye. Here is an example from own life that illustrates how fast a good day becomes a nightmare :

It was a rainy day about 15 years ago. I got a call from my agent about a last minute audition. Back then I had a baby face, but he told me to dress young because the role was a teen. Now I wasn’t a teen then, but I knew that what he meant was to go baggier with the jeans, looser with the shirt, and a backwards baseball cap. The appointment was downtown below 14th street somewhere- I lived in the Times Square area of NYC. On my way to the Port Authority train station, I saw the #10 downtown bus. I made a mad dash for it. Suddenly I was tackled from behind and face down on the sidewalk with a black boot on my back. “ Don’t move!” were the words that went with the sound of the walkie talkie above me. “ I didn’t do anything” I said . “I’m not gonna tell you not to move again “ said the voice. From my sidewalk view I could see that it was two cops. Just as quickly the foot was off my back. “ Its not him” the other cop said. A call must of come through, because they took off leaving me on the ground (without any explanation or apology). In this heavily traveled tourist area , I was the current freak show. People stared at me as if they had seen some NYC bad man brought down by the tough boys and blue.(Muddy clothes now and wet) My heart was pounding fast and my hands were shaking when I picked myself off the dirty sidewalk. I also realized how lucky I was to be alive. You see it happened so fast that I didn’t have time to react. They didn’t know that they were “messing” with a good man. I was a black man running for a bus in the wrong place at the wrong time.

How does this connect to Dr Gates on other levels? It seems to me that young black men are targeted much more often. The older that I get, the less I feel profiled. I believe that one could feel that they graduated from that after a certain age . It feels like it comes with the territory when you are a younger brother. I teach my son and other youth to never argue with the police. They can’t gauge what the cop believes the threat level to be. Sure adults should do the same thing-however in Dr Gates case: 1 He had already proven that it was his house 2- He was jet lagged 3- he was way out of practice in terms of reacting to policeman’s attitude / on the same note- don’t old men get some kind of cantankerous pass 4- When does a person have the right to protest in his or her own home? 5- shouldn’t the cop have adjusted his own response? 6 Was his neighbor standing outside with a cell phone (it must have added insult to injury seeing her not come to his defense)? 7 – There are other examples of Black men(particularly students) at Harvard and In Cambridge being hassled or falsely accused –sometimes our rage explodes when enough is enough.
My intention here is not to demonize cops. Cops are people who bring many of their own biases into situations. They also are given the task of responding to whatever call comes through. I understand that. My problem is that it seems much easier for law enforcement to arrest or shoot black men, then it is for them to see us as human beings who have the right to outrage when being targeted unfairly.

Harlem On My Mind Part II- A historical poem

2009-07-11T08:45:00.000-07:00

I wrote the first verse of this poem many years ago. Upon my return to Harlem as an adult, I realized that I had romanticized it in my head. A reality check was seeing a homeless man sleeping in front of an neglected building that was once the great nightclub Smalls Paradise. I imagined him knowing the history of all of Harlem. Harlem now is filled with great shops, housing, entertainment, and housing( for those that can afford it-another blog topic to come). Thanks to all of the people that stayed in Harlem to help to build it back. Also good luck to all of the entrepreneurs who are trying to build here. This poem is a 1988 reflection ( updated with history and facts that I've learned since then)

When Smalls Had It All

( A dream in the head of a man sleeping in the doorway of the former Small’s Paradise in the Village Of Harlem NYC 1988)

By Daniel Carlton

Pt 1
Dreams Birthed

When Smalls had it all
I wish I’d been there y’all
Mama’s face
Daddy’s Grace
A tree of hope standing tall
Apollo sounds
Dreams abound
The Promised Land found
Rise Up You mighty race
Beauty in a child’s Black face
Garvey’s parade is coming find your place
Splendor on hats Sunday strolling avenues
Numbers hits providing those revenues
Seven steps to heaven climbed with brand new shiny shoes
Too clean to sit down with those weary blues
Hey lady in red aint you heard
Langston Hughes been writing Harlem’s words?
Sitting in parlors with Dunbar’s talented tenth
Down the block is a party so that folks can pay the rent
Zora’s telling tales bigger than Jonah and the whale
Reds on speaker’s corner trying to get the Scottsboro Boys out of Jail
Bearden’s brush
captured so much of a migration of a people leaving Jim Crow in a rush
Even in great depression
The Savoy’s dance floor was cooking- class is in session
For Ellington’s best take the A train next
Come Sunday Satin doll
The Alhambra ‘s hosting a ball
Drink up that bootleg backroom gin
Or sit on a stool at Connie’s Inn
Up in and down the avenue’s one happy shout
Joe the Brown Bomber knocked that sucker out!

PT II
Making medicine out of poison/ or making dream music in spite of the poison

Fading glory
A written off story
Tenements still holding remnants
Of dream checks that can still be cashed
Not deferred yet but running out fast
If you listen carefully
And walk don’t run
There is a sound found in the heart of a slum
Gabriel’s trumpet was sent down to earth
To Minton’s Playhouse for Bebop’s birth
Dizzy and Theolonius Monk
Hitting notes so fast
That even the air jumped
Drumbeats combined lightning and thunder’s thump
Not coming from the sky
But flying while high
The sax sang songs of the quickest notes heard
Charlie Parker soars- a concrete yard bird
My Funny valentine went on for miles
Broken hearts mixed with styles and smiles
Catch that Trane if you can
A love supreme for every child, woman and man
There was a new escape from the streets that only needed a spoon, needle, matches and came powdered in a bag
A new ages plague yeah dig baby skag
Nodding out on the corner cigarettes in mouths still smoking
What went on their dreams?
Cause the devil wasn’t joking

Part 111

The Evolution Of Revolution/ Dreams die hard /Can you dig it?

Ungawwa Black Power
Raised fists in the air
Brothers and Sisters growing conks out their hair.
Dashikis are the fashion of the day
What’s happening brother/sister was the greeting to say
Conga rythms and poetry in the park
Black and beautiful pride in being dark
The Vietnam war was snatching brothers up
They wasn’t coming back right-heads back in nods instead of held up
The FBI didn’t dig all that black pride
Informers were planted in the Panther’s insides
Many of our leaders assassinated by bullets
Dreams die hard But everything breaks down if from all sides you pull it
Power to the people didn't get all the way done
Disco distracted /the goal became having fun
Angel dust blew many minds apart
Prisons filled up/ With the young who never had much of a fresh start
Attica uprising died down with a massacre
The folks of Harlem normalized disaster
Crack Attacks
Fade to black
Now Rats crawl out of Smalls
Shells of men
Sleep with them
When Smalls had it
I wish we’d seen it y’all

* The location of the former Smalls is now the site of the excellent Thurgood Marshall High School

Remember The Time Part II-Or why I can't be angry with Micheal Jackson anymore

2009-07-03T19:59:00.000-07:00

Anyone who knows me (or has read the last post) knows how much I really loved Micheal Jackson. I must admit that for years I was really angry with him also. Around the time of the "Bad" album it seemed very clear to me that he was running away from physical "Blackness". Now I believed then and now that all cultures bring their own flavors to the gumbo of humankind. This is a good thing. It is even better when cultures and dare I use the term races come together to share , learn, mix, and groove with each other. I don't believe that one race holds a superior edge in this mix. But watching this transformation in MJ made me ask myself," Does he hate his black features or is this just out of control performance art?"
Some background :
When I was a kid, growing up fatherless, I would read books by Black revolutionaries to help give me some kind of idea of what a committed to his people/family Black man was all about. I would read with fascination their stories of facing down the state, police, and their own less evolved pasts. I fantasized about these big afro -fists in the air brothers being my dad. I would be their righteous son taking their place in the struggle when the state inevitably came down on them. Malcom X's story of growing out his conk in prison was to me the ultimate metaphor for doing whatever it took to get your black mind right. Those stories planted a lifetime seed in me that allowed me to know that you can celebrate you without hating yourself or others. I never found my place with the cultural nationalists-their view wasn't inclusive enough for me. Although I could dig where they were coming from. Reading this you might assumed that I lived through the times that they wrote about. I was only a little boy when these events went down. Most kids my age would call me Little Militant(as sort of a joke)- I mean in the 70's my childhood peers were on a different trip. Just as fatherless as I was, many found pure escapism in pop soul culture to be enough. There was enough of it. The Soul music and culture of the 70's was the bomb.From P Funk to Philly Soul-Soul Train to The Love Train- Ohio Players to the Commodores-the funky seventies were smoking,. Stevie Wonder alone was worth the price of a ticket into a time capsule. Here come the Jackson 5 in this equation. Something for us kids that was just as funky as the stuff that the older people were listening too. Their look alone clearly said here are the children of the 70's dancing our big afroed, leather fringe vests, platform shoes, and unapologetically Black dancing machines into the hearts and minds of all the kids in America. It wasn't stated -it just was. I can't say that most of us kids wanted afo's for revolutionary reasons. We wanted Jermaine's afro and all of the cool things that came with that. Mostly style -certainly not political- The Jackson's were us flavor to the nth degree( meaning black kids). I'm not saying that they just belonged to us-it's just that they were that big in our world that we had no clue that other cultures even dug them. When Off The Wall came out, it was my first understanding that Micheal was world wide. The White , Latino, and Black kids all wanted to rock with you and wouldn't stop until they got enough. How cool was that?!. See now what we've been digging all of this time? Thriller was-World Wide -jam of the planet music! We are the world and the global mission of Live A.ID were beautiful. White, Black , Brown , and all folks coming together for the good of all.
So what happened to this brown man who brought our beauty and soul to the world stage? I know that he stated that he had a skin condition. OK that's cool, but your nose is getting smaller.Your jheri curl is turning into straight up relaxed hair. Are you dissociating yourself from your Afican features? Are we not beautiful enough? Is someone telling you to do this? My nieces and nephews didn't even know him as a brown person anymore. What is the message that it sends them? I understand some of this I think? I mean I actually got a jheri curl once because he had one. No actually I don't. His music was still brilliant and slamming -but I'm more than a little hurt by the rejection. By the time Invincible came out, my 8 year old son didn't believe that he was the same person from my old J5 Christmas album.
That is where I was.

This is where I am now with all of that:

1 Micheal was in a tremendous amount of psychological/emotional pain. I can't speak for how deep those cuts went. Maybe this was a form of self mutilation.

2- MJ gave all to his art-who am I to question his choices? He certaintly lived with more than his fair share of ridicule and criticisim

3- Maybe he thought that he was physically transforming himself into a non racial World Citizen .

4: This brother has probably given to more causes that affect Black and other folk than hundreds of people combined

5- His problems-pain killers and otherwise may have affected his judgment.

6- He never left us. He had too much soul for that.The Apollo Theater celebrations are proof positive that you can come home . The multi- racial mourning shows how much Everyone loved him

- At the end of the day-MJ smashed through all of the barriers of race/culture class -the world mourns him -may he rest in peace-the demons can't get to him anymore

Thank You Soul Brother MJ!

Remember The Time

2009-06-25T19:38:00.000-07:00

Michael Jackson Memories

The King Of Pop left this earthly plane today June 25, 2009. I “never can say goodbye”
Like the rest of the world, I can trace so many great life moments to memories connected to him.

When I was a little kid in the 70’s, my brothers and I would pretend that we were the Jackson 5/Jackson's. It was always a battle between my younger brother and me as to who would be Michael. Sure my brother had the sharper dance moves, but I was committed enough to lose my voice if need be to hit those high notes (not very successfully without cracks eventually-but the passion was there). We would do “Dancing Machine” and my older brother Gary would rock the robot like he was getting paid for it. I We won a talent contest once (I humbly submit) with me singing lead on the song “Ben” I got a early bootleg taste of the dream. Those Jackson’s had the clothes, the girls, the moves, the money, the respect, and the dream come true of leaving “the ghetto” They were older cooler versions of who we wanted to be. Everybody had a favorite Jackson. I admit that I thought that Jermaine was smoother, but Michael was the one that all of the girls my age swooned for.
Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough and Rock With You gave a very shy(with the girls)young brother an opening to the dance floor . I moved my one leg up and down in sort of a stomp, then I would spin and throw one arm in the air. It sounds ridiculous I know, but I really thought that I was channeling MJ.
And then there was Thriller! Whoa-there was a time when the world was Michael Jackson –and then the rest. PYT, , Human Nature, Wanna Be Starting Something were all like separate pieces of musical magic that were included with Billie Jean( I saw that Motown 25th Show live when he threw down the hat and commenced to turn it out), Beat it , and the video that is in everybody’s consciousness since it unveiled – Thriller. Before MJ, besides Prince, videos with Black Artists were cheesy and cheap looking. Those record companies were not spending more than a nickel. MJ busted out Billie Jean and changed the game. That sidewalk lighting up alone was mesmerizing. And the winner is…. Michael Jackson (every award). In Thriller album time you could turn on the radio and hear a different MJ song on different stations all playing at the same time, I never cared for the message of Beat It-but those guitar chords sure sounded good. I had a choice between going out with a girl that I was fiending for months who finally agreed to go out with me-or to see The Victory Tour-Dallas show ( last minute ticket ) blame it on the boogie-the girl was lost to me forever-but that was hell of a show.
The bigger he got, the less interested I was. I was more of a Prince guy. Not that he wasn’t still BAD, it’s just that my taste was more hardcore. My nieces loved him. Remember moonwalker the movie? They would wear that tape out- a new generation with their own memories.
I must admit that I’ve done some MJ parodies-but one can only do that if a person is that etched in the collective consciousness. I recently challenged a group of students to hear a MJ song without wanting to dance or reflect.
I was never sure what to think about the charges against him . There were some disturbing allegations for sure. However that Jacko business(press) was always the height of disrespect.
Race, class, age, and musical boundaries – MJ transcended them all

Please Support a Brother-Here is a show that I'm testing at a VERY small space in NYC-The Weeksville monolouges and some new pieces -flyer below*

2009-06-15T17:59:00.000-07:00

* Voices From The Edge XII All Performances at NPTC456 West 37th Street(at 10th Avenue)

A Dozen Years of Celebrating New Works By African American Writers and Performers
Tuesday, June 16 – Sunday, June 21, 2009 Including: DANIEL CARLTON'S
Memories of Self: Journey to Weeksville

A one man show – dramatic, funny and enlightening!

And : A Block Of Time 50 Years On one Harlem Block ( work in progress)

Brooklyn’s unique HISTORY!/ Harlem World

Weeksville was a self-contained,
free African American community in Brooklyn in the 1800’s-early 1900’s made up of property owners—a safe haven for many during slavery, the draft riots, and many challenges facing African Americans in America.
This dramatic presentation comes alive through fictional monologues based on historical events. Journey into the lives of these five men who survived and triumphed against incredible odds!

Poignant… Brings history to life… Moving… a rarely-told story…
And
A Block Of Time:50 years/ five Stories/One Harlem Block (a work in progress)
Both
Written and performed by actor/storyteller Daniel Carlton

June 16th 8:00pm Memory of Self: Journey to Weeksville, The Opening Night Panel includes Daniel Carlton along with Woodie King, Jr., renowned producer and director of stage and screen, as well as the founder of the New Federal Theater; Donna Walker-Kuhne, Founder and President of Walker Communications International Group and acknowledged expert on audience diversification; and Charles Weldon, Artistic Director of the historic Negro Ensemble Company TICKETS: $25 For Opening Night with Panel and Reception

$10 for all other performances 212-630-9945contact@nptnyc.org

June 17th 6:00pm A Block of Time: 50 Years on One Harlem Block

June 18th 6:00 PM Block Of Time

June 20th Memories Of Self:Journey To Weeksville 8:00 PM

Where I Roam, Every Single Soul Is A Poem-My dream is not a joke softly sings the 11 year old in a homeless family shelter

2009-04-11T15:49:00.000-07:00

Picture This : A NYC homeless shelter for families. The exterior is a converted hospital. To get through the doors one must pass through armed security guards after showing I.D. This is your process as a visitor.You them show ID at a another table. “May I help you? “ drips with sarcasm, because you teach a class there every week. If you are a resident the process involves you and your children going through a metal detector also. No matter that your children may have to use the bathroom. The bored guards drunk on the perceived power of the situation send some of the people back through several times as if they are taking a flight to a country on a terrorist watch list. Poverty must be a crime, because the high level screening process seems to go way beyond the safety of the residents.” Ahh , but everyone is protected” you say “They are only doing their jobs” , one can reasonably argue. Although I disagree with the overboard aspects of it, I hear you.
Fast forward to the computer/rec room. I am teaching a theatre class (for kids) with a musician and a young assistant. Many of the other kids haven’t arrived yet from dinner. This is a perfect opportunity to work with a very shy young lady who doesn’t quite understand all of the creative magic that she possesses. She is about 11 years old . You know that preteen awkward gangliness that within the span of the blink of an eye can do a turn that would make an Alvin Ailey dancer proud only to dismiss it within the same time frame? She almost in a whisper says “I wrote a song” . She pulls it out of her pocket and turns around because she doesn’t want us to look at her while she’s singing it. The song is titled “My DREAM IS NOT A JOKE” . Straining to hear her, the musician begins to play softly under her. She hears the melody from the piano and begins to sing much louder with more confidence. The look of joy and concentration on her face is priceless. Suddenly a shelter cop on duty bursts into the room with his walkie talkie on full blast. He yells out to the rec director “ Your order is here!” Assuming that he didn’t see the child singing, I give him the shh we’re working signal. Now I understand in retrospect that I should have walked across the room and pointed out the situation to him Maybe it would have made a difference in terms of the energy that led to the following exchange:

Me : Excuse me sir, but we are working here.

Cop: Who the hell do you think that you’re talking to?

Me: This is a class. We’re working with the kids here. This is rude

Cop: I can walk into any room that I need to here. I don’t give a damn what’s going on.

Me : Wow that’s deep. You’re disrespecting this kid and us when you just yell into a room

Cop: I’ll respect or disrespect anybody that I want to. ( He puts his hand on his nightstick) You got a problem with that?

Me: Yes

(call comes through on walkie talkie-he gives me a menacing look then leaves)

Another kid who had been observing this weird confrontation: Mister Daniel, they do that all of the time

Me : Kid I promise you that I’ll take the hit before I’ll allow an adult to disrespect you in any situation that I’m in. Don’t say anything before class. Just get here so that you can use your voice in a way that taps into your creative power. No one can take that away from you.

The rec director then says something really deep to me. He says, “Everyone from the top down in a homeless shelter becomes institutionalized.” Social workers, cops, and clients all normalize disrespect.” I could be talking to someone about something that they need, when all of a sudden someone who thinks that they have a greater need will interrupt me as if the person that I’m talking to wasn’t even there” He also said one the greatest things that anyone has ever said to me “ You’re one of those people that can’t ignore injustice”

The happy part of this story: The kids sang full out that night “MY DREAM IS NOT A JOKE” Our 11 year old singer songwriter couldn’t stop smiling.

Music Sweet Music

2009-03-28T19:41:00.000-07:00

Lots of thoughts about music today. Several events have inspired this somewhat random collection of music meandering.

I just brought a new netbook. Whenever I buy a new computer, one of the things that I have to do is add my entire music collection to it. I have thousands of cd's , so this is no one or two hour task. I discovered on this go round that the artists that have the most cds in my collection are Miles Davis, Stevie Wonder, The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Funkadelic, Various Brazilian artists, Prince(Symbol included), Fishbone,U2,George Duke,Marvin Gaye , Herbie Hancock, Jay Z, Cassandra Wilson, and Eryka Badu. Two surprises were Dianne Reeves and Keb Mo. I didn't realize that I liked them like that. Oh yeah I also have more than my share of Marley music( Bob, Ziggy, Damien, Kymani)

I mourn the inevitable death of record stores. My best friend after High School owned a small shop twenty years ago. He turned me on to so many sounds. Before his tutelage I thought that Jazz was just for old people. Although his shop didn't last, it gave me a lifelong love for music stores. I loved Tower Records for it's listening stations that included written invitations/descriptions to try out music that was new or outside of the square boxes of pop. A third of my collection probally resulted from either browsing through the store or listening at the stations. R.I.P Tower. Virgin Records is now closing in NYC. Floors of CD's, posters, memorabilia, Music DVD's, and all of the visceral pleasures that are part of walking through a music store will be gone forever. In NYC we've also lost The Wiz, HMV , and The Record Shack on 125th in Harlem. I Tunes can't replace that.

Tonight I Saw the Jazz At Lincoln Center Orchestra here in NYC and run by Wynton Marseilles. I have a real respect for Mr Marseilles' mission. He is making sure that there is a home that allows living masters of Jazz to play in an institution completely devoted to its art form. He has players of all ages and many cultures in the orchestra. They all solo.They all do arrangements. They all can play their asses off. He also gives so much history in both the music, and his spoken intros before the tunes. I have experienced some serious concerts there.

Grab a person under the age of 25 and force them to listen to an entire CD from start to finish. Imagine separating Joni Mitchell's Blue, Mile's Kind Of Blue, Parliament's Mothership Connection, Sgt Peppers Lonely Heart Club Band, John Coltrane's Love Supreme, Stevie Wonder's Innervisions(or any 70's Stevie for that matter) Lenny Kratviz's Mama Said,Pink Floyd's Dark Side Of The Moon, Hendrix's Electric Lady Land, Bob Marley's Exodus,Marvin Gaye's What's Going On?, or any work of music that is connected into a beginning middle, or end into singles for ring tones? Many of the above mentioned albums are before my time. Some older person(s) pulled my coat and said "check this out"

Beauty, Blackness, And the heartbreaking Statement Of A 14 Year Old Girl - reposted because I Wonder If A Michelle Obama Effect has trickled Down

2009-03-21T06:32:00.000-07:00

I just read an excellent series of statements about Michelle Obama's beauty and power in this week's New York Magazine. Respected writers from all cultures acknowledged both of these qualities. I wonder if things have changed since the campaign and election for this 14 year old girl that I wrote about a year and a half ago? This post is from 07. Hopefully we are in a remix.

As long as I live,I will never understand the level of cruelty, self hate, misogyny, various phobias( homo and others), and forgetfulness that happens in our African American Community.We have these issues for sure. We are working on them.Why is darker skin still a weapon that is used to tear down a person's self esteem?
Now I'm no" Pull yourself up by your bootstrap" Booker T Washingtonian republican with disdain for our people. I don't subscribe to Bill Cosby's pound cake stealing thug who should stay away from the pristine Spellman College debutantes theory. I recognize that we have never collectively recovered from slavery, Jim Crow, the murders of our leaders and warriors, or the myriad ways that White Supremacy has worked it's number on us. I even understand first hand how hard it is to escape both the ghetto and it's psychological effects on your brain. Just erasing the word Nigger from my thoughts took a mental revolution of epic proportions that didn't happen in a day or two. What I don't understand is how in this day and age I could hear the statement that I recently heard from one of my 14 year old girl drama students.

" I didn't know how Black and ugly I was until I came to this school."

What??????

With 40 -50 years of Maya Angelou's, Essence and Ebony Magazine, Roots, Malcolm, Spike Lee, The Panthers, Oprah, Toni Morrison, The Color Purple/Alice Walker, e.t.c why are we still here in 07? This is a school that exists mainly of students of color. There are no nooses connected to dubious and arbitrary prosecutions of Black children. There is not a chapter of the KKK presided over underground by the principal or the math teacher. She was not being escorted by the National Guard while the good White citizens of the town spat on her. This happened in Brooklyn ,NY. Jackie Robinson ( a dark man) led the Dodgers to the baseball promised land. Spike Lee admonished us to do the right thing. Dark Shirley Chisholm ran for President of The United States here. The community of Weeksville was built here by a Community of free Black folks who owned their own property and businesses . The most diverse grouping of African Diasporan Peoples on the planet lives here. So where in the hell did this 14 year girls peer tormentors get the idea that dark skinned people are ugly?
It's an old idea that is clearly not just perpetuated by both white supremacists and lighter skinned members of our race. Why won't it die? Why is it still the show stopper of insults? Why are the darkest people on the planet some of it's most oppressed?
I don't want to cast aspersion on Brooklyn as the self hate capital of the U.S. Here's another story that involves a friend of from Harlem: My friend, a well respected actress was involved as a volunteer on a trip that took a group of Black and Brown young people on a trip to perform as part of a national theatre festival. At some point during the trip a discussion took place amongst some of the girls about hair. One of the hair weaved young ladies got into a heated argument about good hair with some of the more conscious young ladies. Finally in exasperation one of the young women asked her to point out an example of good hair. Hair weaved 16 year old pointed to my regal short Afro wearing friend and said "It aint that". My friend was crushed. You see this is a person who spent time in the movement. This is a person who has dedicated all of her adult life to an aesthetic of Black Pride and upliftment through the arts. This is a person who although not a star, has major peer respect in the business. This is a person who brings quality Art In Education with an equal passion to the children. This is a person of beauty.
There are many people who feel that the ideas of the sixties and below are outdated . Many believe that "Say it Loud , I'm Black and I'm proud " belongs in the museum of quaint played out old school. But maybe those Langston Hughes Poems aren't meant for the oppressor to see our "beauty and be ashamed". Maybe we need to dig into those crates to find the beauty in ourselves. Are little black girls still reaching for that blond doll as the standard of beauty?
To fling my arms in some place of the sun
Dance whirl dance
Till the white day is done
Then rest at cool evening
A tall slim tree
While night comes on tenderly
Black
Like Me
quote from Dream Variation by Langston Hughes

Harlem On My Mind Part 1

2009-03-16T19:16:00.000-07:00

*When Smalls had it all.
I wish I'd been there y'all. Mama's face and daddy's grace make a tree of hope standing tall.
Langston , Garvey,and Zora Neale created words about that Uptown feel.
X's Text-Ellington's A Train next
-migration's test created the best.
* The previous writing is from a poem that I wrote shortly after moving back to Harlem from Texas in the late 80's. "When Smalls Had It all " The Smalls that I refer to is the former great nightclub in Harlem called Smalls Paradise. The ending lines of the poem:
"Tenements aren't good remnants of the glory that was.
Now Rats crawl out of Smalls.Shells of men sleep with them.
When Smalls had it all-I wish we'd been there y'all."
Of course now in the 00's , an Ihop restaurant sits in that spot.The building also includes the excellent Thurgood Marshall Academy for Learning and Social Change. Like so many positive changes in Harlem, this came about because of The Abyssinian Development Corporation which is an organization of the historical Abyssinian Baptist Church. I mention this to show how far back from the brink Harlem has come. Thank goodness for all of the active organizations and churches that are trying to empower the folks of Harlem as best as they can in this Uptown of fast changes that have gone from one extreme to another. Those extremes include neighborhood establishments( many long term) going out of business due to high jacked up rents while luxury apartment buildings are being filled up with tenants even before they are finished being built. This mecca for so many who were literally forced to live there during the early parts of the 20th century is being rebuilt, re-imagined, rezoned, remixed, and redistributed to the richer amongst us . For those Harlemites lucky enough to have profited from this boom I say "More power to you" For those pushed out who provided goods and services to a community that for years was disenfranchised and undervalued I say "What a damn shame! " Gentrification is not new to many urban areas. The difference with Harlem is its place in the annals of American History. The stories of so many of the Who's Who of giants of Black began or were developed in Harlem . Langston Hughes, Ralph Ellison, Dubois, Marcus Garvey, Zora Neale Hurston,Billie Holiday, James Baldwin, Duke Ellington, Malcolm X, many Be Bop pioneers ,writers, painters, e.tc all called this slice of the Apple home. The East side of Harlem was fertile ground in the development of Puerto Rican American culture. From the tobacco fields of Virginia to the Hills of Jamaica and all points of African American and Afro Diaspora points between , Harlem was more than a destination; It was an idea known throughout the world. However when I was a little boy in Harlem my world was closer to the one that Claude Brown (Manchild In The Promised Land) and Piri Thomas ( Down These Mean Streets) described in their excellent coming of age in Harlem memoirs. Although my time was twenty years later than theirs, many of the ills that led to it's described decline were in full effect. My mother was relieved and grateful that she could move the family upstate(shortly afterwards to Texas) where junkies,liquor stores, bucket of blood bars, violent schools, abandoned buildings, and visual poverty weren't all part of both the landscape and mind states. My memory didn't involve just the negative though. Wide avenues, music everywhere, block parties, The Apollo, play streets, the mix of West Indian/Southern U.S/ New York accents, and the smells of Soul food also stayed with me as memories of what I knew was the most unique place on the planet. I learned so much about Harlem history while away from it. A woman that I dated a few years back said that I have a Mecca idealized version of Harlem that has nothing to do with it's current state. She could be right. It is very difficult for me not to imagine all its history while strolling Lenox Avenue. I wonder as I wander its streets about the stories of the people who walked them too. I marvel at the architecture of brownstone and limestone houses. I am fascinated by the sights and sounds coming out of it's playgrounds and parks. I take long walks through the heights of Sugar Hill.Broadway and Amsterdam Avenues have become extensions of The Dominican Republic. The bodegas are full of music, light banter in Spanish, and coffee with a kick. 116th street on the west side looks like West Africa consciously deposited some of its people as a new kind of treasure for these shores. My walks allow me to feel that I am walking through both the past and the present. My son was fascinated with the history shown as he and I sat through a film showing of Harlem History during an open house at The Apollo Theater. He told me later that he didn't know that so much had happened at that theater for so many people. The beauty of his revelation is that it wasn't forced fed to him by me.The images spoke for themselves. I highly suggest to anyone reading this that you attend the open houses hosted there by the excellent Billy Mitchell.
What is Harlem for the residents who are coming in droves because of gentrification? Is it simply a good deal that they can't resist? Or will they add to a new kind of history? Is the lack of sustained outrage about people and small businesses being replaced due to the fact that the powers that be and the displaced see it as eminent domain? Are these higher income folks good for the community? Will there presence improve the schools? Are all of these corporate food chains a sign of progress or capitalism at all costs? Most of my favorite Soul Food places are gone. Why didn't we protect places like the historical Record Shack( http://www.observer.com/2008/real-estate/record-shack). Why is The Mart on 125th, a former location of independent vendors still closed? The streets do seem cleaner. Is it because of the new attention being paid to our community? I must admit that some services are better( same question as the prior one). For years, one had to go for blocks just to find a bank;Now they are everywhere in the neighborhood. The food in the supermarkets seems fresher than it was.
I don't want to put it out there that I think that all of the changes in the "new" Harlem are bad. I must admit that I was slightly amazed and amused at the glittery view of Harlem that is shown on a recent show involving a group of self absorbed 20 somethings called "Harlem Heights" on BET . It looked pretty good from the very limited and highly edited version presented to us. Is Harlem becoming a tale of two cities? Are the wealthier amongst us looking down from their brand new sparkling glass towers at the still too many poor or struggling with disdain or indifference? Our Hamlet still leads the city in some of the more negative and challenging statistics also. Is Harlem still a place where the creation of culture is still considered to be one its greatest contributions? Is there trickle down economy at work that will benefit all Harlem residents. Will Harlem as we understand it from the past even exist 20 years from now? Is being a Harlemite a residential thing or a state of mind? I moved back to Harlem 10 years ago after living in midtown for most of the 90's. I was always in Harlem anyway. I wonder as I wander its streets why anyone wouldn't feel the soul?

The N word by any other defintion or use smells just as bad to me

2009-03-03T19:02:00.000-08:00

Nigger is a noun in the English language, most notable for its usage in a pejorative context to refer to black people, and also as an informal slang term, ...
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nigger -

Picture this: A crowded New York City Subway car on it's way to Brooklyn . The time
is a little bit after 3 in the afternoon. Many school aged kids are in the car. They are sharing space with the multi-cultured passengers who make up the mosaic of strap hangers on their journeys . The kids are loud , rambunctious , and slightly annoying in terms of the volume levels that accompany even the smallest of exchanges. " Yo, my nigga you going to your cousins house?" says one clearly Latino girl to her possibly African American friend. "No my Nigga , I'm going home " The possibly African American girl screams across the crowded car while trying to exit through the cramped doorway. Other kids enter and exit. Variations of the "my Nigga exchange take place. After so many years of hearing this in various locations and situations , I am still not desensitized , Every time I hear it, it reverberates as a reminder that there is a cultural consciousness battle that has been almost completely lost. I have heard all of the arguments about the word being transformed, detangled, and stripped of all evil because it has been inverted by its use as a both a term of endearment and a acknowledgment of realness. I have tried to understand a statement from a very intelligent friend who said to me once in the presence of a white man " We have bigger problems to deal with as a culture than the distraction of worrying about that word." I have witnessed an older White teacher allow his students to call him their nigger. His defense was that the Black and Latino students weren't doing any harm to him by calling him that. I was once called "nigga" by a 10 year old kid in Croatia who thought that the word was an informal greeting (reserved for the rare chance that he would actually meet a real Black person).
My middle school aged son is a witness to the surrender to this word. He says that teachers and staff at his school act as if they don't hear it. I tell him that in terms of the kids, he can't correct his peers. No one wants their teenage peer to be the language police. I am just glad that he hasn't surrendered. Before I do Black History month monologues in schools of characters who triumphed during Jim Crow , I have to preface them with an explanation of the racist/deadly connotations of the word as expressed by characters who either say it or hear it.
I understand the whole Stagolee badass describing himself in this way historically. That was a folk art way of trying to turn it around. Dick Gregory, Richard Pryor, The Last Poets, e.t.c were all trying to shatter cultural barriers, shock the status quo, or make people aware of a whole world that was treated as invisible or problematic by the mainstream. I get that.I also know that many of them later expressed some regret about their choice of that word to show authenticity. They nor rappers created the word. The original intent of the word was dehumanization. I think that it still does that. I asked one of my students how she felt about being greeted by her friends with"Whats up Nigga?" She says that in her head she says to herself" Couldnt you have greeted me better than that?" I feel that. So many people who have no connection to the historical pain attached to the word think that it's some kind of joke. Another young person (AA) who I am very close to had a post on her facebook page from one of her white friends that said "See you later my Nigga" . My friend said that she didn't even notice it until I brought it to her attention . It is not uncommon for many non Black people to greet each other that way in the presence of Black people. Many Latinos in NY use it even more than we (AA's do)
Words have power. Am I oppressed by the word ? No I'm not. Am I bothered by the word? Clearly it irks me to no end. When African American kids use it in my presence I ask them not to. 99 percent have said "My bad, I'm sorry." Most know that it's not a great word. However we all allow it to flow so casually. I've always wondered how it is processed by non Black folks.

Post Racial? The NY Post is a Racist Rag

2009-02-18T13:24:00.000-08:00

Some Black History Month Poetry Flavor from me at 9 years old-deep stuff folks-and thank you Ms Kent for recognizing the power of Black History month

2009-02-08T14:36:00.000-08:00

Mrs Kent, the most influential teacher in my life, introduced to me so many things that would influence the rest of my life. Poetry, Black authors, Black Art, and the acknowledgment that I was a creative being were the gifts that she gave me in the third grade. The fact that she was White , may make this even more extraordinary. She recognized that Black History month introduced me to a higher idea of who I could be. Although this was thirty something years ago, I still believe that the magic of discovery and pride during Black History month is still relevant. She also opened up my mind to the greatness of understanding the history and art of other cultures.
Here is some poetry from the 4th grade poet that I became a year after Ms Kent's classes.

Warning Deep Stuff ahead :

Harriet Tubman
by me
Harriet Tubman
Bold Black woman
Risked her life for our freedom
Harriet you were wise
You followed the North Star in the skies
For our freedom

Langston Hughes
by me
You're the people's poet
Us Black folks surely know it
Your rhythm is the blues
you paid your dues
So that dreams I can use

My Afro
My Afro used to be big and fluffy
Then it became uncombed and stuffy
My mother said it has to go
No mama no
I cried and I cried
My mother said you're not going to die
And that was the end of my fro

The Flag
by me
Red and and blue only favors you
Red Black and green
Makes me a king
And my sister a Queen

A taste of where I'm coming from storytelling videos /folktale /monolouge/historical

2009-02-06T16:41:00.000-08:00

If you are my facebook or myspace friend, you probably have seen these. This is some of my storytelling flavor. Just a taste....

An excerpt from my show Memories Of Self: Journey To Weeksville -"I Can Read Now 1890

2009-02-02T16:31:00.000-08:00

In honor of Black History month, I submit one of the monologues from my show Memories Of Self: Journey To Weeksville. This is one of 7 fictional monologues based on actual historical events that I perform in character at the Historical Weeksville Houses in Brooklyn , NY. Weeksville was a thriving community of free Blacks during the 1800's and early 20th century. The community had its own schools, churches, newspapers, and other institutions. This place existed as home and refuge for Black people during extremely intense times of racist brutality, segregation, slavery, the draft riots, fugitive slave act kidnappings,and so much more. Only 3 houses remain( restored or recreated) . The acknowledgment and discovery has only happened over the last 30 something years. Please visit the site and take a tour of the houses. Here is the link www.weeksvillesociety.org Each of my monologues presents a character during a time of crisis in Black America. The following monolouge is the exception. It is a love story on some levels. 1890 Joshua Jones:

I Can Read by Daniel Carlton

Joshua Jones
1890

Evening all. What a fine beginning of dusk’s blanketing Brooklyn as it prepares for slumber. Fancy words for a man who works with his hands huh? Now everybody knows that I Joshua Jones can whittle, cut, saw, or measure any piece of wood that my hands get a hold of. My daddy who was a slave almost all of his natural days used to say to me “ Joshua, the Good Lord must have breathed on your hands while you was praying cuz their aint nothing, not even Massa, that can stop them fingers from doing what so never they want’s to. For all my life that’s been the God’s honest truth. It’s like I can see what it’s like finished before I even start. I tell you this though, I didn’t know that inside my head that I could put together letters that turned into words that I could write down and know. It’s like magic. To make a long story short, thanks to pretty lady Miss Kent of P.S 83, I can read.
Now that might not mean much at all to you children of these days and times. We been trying to build you a world here in Weeksville where reading comes naturally like breathing air. When you young, your mind takes in everything that you feed it. It aint like that after a certain time. After you done lived some of the trials and tribulations of this here life, you got to work to find more room in your head to go along with all the other things that you picked up along the road. And then you have to be able to undo all them voices that try to keep you blind and ignorant. It aint just the White man that I’m talking about. Some of our leaders are also saying that we shouldn’t be in such a rush to get our book education. Me, I’m casting my lot with with those that are helping me to get all that book power and magic that I can. I aint never heard of a White man being told to take his time
Now you probably wanting to know how Pretty Miss Kent went about getting me my start? One day about a year and six months ago she asked me to do some work for the school. She needed a new desk. After I told her how much it would cost she wrote down the price and some other words. I said “ Ma’am that won’t be necessary. I will take you at your word as you take me at mine.” Miss Kent Said “Mr. Jones, while we trust each other, the County of Kings may not be as understanding of a non-contractual agreement.” Then she said “ Forgive me if this comes off as indelicate, but can you read?” Now no one in my Thirty-Six years had ever asked me or cared to know the answer to that question. ‘No Ma’am I said.” “ We’re just going to have to see about that .” She said. I only been scared of a few things here and there when I was little, but just for a second there my grown man heart skipped a beat. Little ones learn reading and figuring every day; we grown folks don’t want to look weak in front of other grown folks. I said “ I appreciate your kind offer, but I will only take you up on it if you allow me to teach you how to carve a likeness of your favorite animal out of wood. “ It’s a deal.” she said.
Now I don’t think that I need to go into the particulars. I’ll just say that she carved the prettiest elephant that you ever laid eyes on. Me? Well you all tell me how I did. I wrote her a bit of poetry and I aint sure that it’s good enough for her for giving me the greatest gift of my natural life. Here it goes :

Like Prometheus Bound
Or sky without view of the ground
Like square alone without knowing round
My mind was held in partial down
For when a Man knows not the letter nor word sound
He is like a king without his crown
Or a face that knows only frown
Your spell was cast / It freed my thoughts
With many words to read or jot
Losing ignorance is a battle hard fought
Of all the things I’ve ever bought
None are worth more than the things you’ve taught.

*The entire show is available for booking. Also workshops and performances of separate monologues based on 1-The Fugitive Slave 2 The New York City Draft Riots 3 Escape from Slavery 4 Double Consciousness (W.E.B Dubois) 5 WWI Harlem Hellfighters 6 Literacy 7 A performer forced to wear burnt cork 8 -Black life in New York City at the turn of the twentieth century

Blackface For An Oscar-Damn are we traveling in circles? Jim Crow was also thought of as just a funny blackface character

2009-01-27T16:59:00.000-08:00

Blackface - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Blackface in the narrow sense is a style of theatrical makeup that originated in the United States, used to take on the appearance of certain archetypes of American racism, especially those of the happy-go-lucky darky on the plantation or the dandified coon. Blackface in the broader sense includes similarly stereotyped performances even when they do not involve blackface makeup.
History · Authentic or counterfeit · "Darky" iconography Source: Wikepedia

The Minstrel Show gets nominated for an Oscar. Wow. We as a culture have so little memory or respect for historical madness as long as it can be called "just entertainment. Al Jolson, D.W Griffiths, The White Amos and Andy,Ted Danson at The Whoopi Goldberg roast, Old Jim Crow and all of the happy darky faces by White Men in cork, are all joined by Robert Downey Jr in the full circle of actors or entertainment that pokes fun at the idea of Blackness or Negritude.
Before I go on, I must qualify a few things

1- I don't hate when cultures blend to produce art. I truly believe that a good part of Rock and Roll's greatness is because of the Rhythm and Blues, Folk,and Country music all mixed and mashed to make new forms out of the sounds and stories of many cultures. Most musicians and groups that achieved greatness in the form acknowledge that they borrowed( stole?) from the architects like Chuck Berry,Bo Diddly, Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters, e.t.c. However, would any of us accept Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, The Beatles, Led Zepplin, e.t.c in Afro wigs. The same goes for hip hop. Although we all admire hip hops roots in communities that produced a whole culture in spite of the fact that the creators were without a whole lot of resources , would we admire or respect Emminim if he put shoe polish on his face in the name of "keeping it real" because he came from the same type of enviornment? I admit that it took me some years to acknowledge the universiality of Hip Hop culture. Slang coming out of the mouths of people who were living out their Black language fantasies was how I perceived the speakers. It's like they could have the fun without the pain of everyday, driving while black , suspected because of Black, or denied because of Black.
I know that we can learn from each other's cultures. It just seems to me that the old minstrel character gets resurrected every decade or so. American entertainment from very on used the childlike darky as a source for material. If you ever get a chance to see that cinematic shit Birth Of A Nation, you will see how destructive those images have been for the collective acknowledged full humanity of Black folks. That was a very popular movie during its time. Thank God for Marcus Garvey's Black Pride mantra in the early twentieth century. Most of the talented Black entertainers of that time period (1900 -the 1920's had to wear burnt cork to blacken their brown faces even more-so that they could work under the mask of the accepted racist ideas of who we were in this country. Al Jolson made a mint playing the opposite(White man-blackface) . The Character Jim Crow was actually created by a White actor around 1830He may have been the first to do it. He is certaintly not the last.
Where is the outrage about this Oscar nod? 1830 and 2009 are universes apart in terms of change. Or are they? Thank God for the nation's movement to elect President Obama. He and his beautiful family smash down some serious walls in terms of the stereotypes perpetuated by pop culture. Many of our past icons have done the same. Can we please bury this offensive idea? I hope that we make some noise about this. I have a pretty good sense of humor. Some stuff just isn't funny. Degradation through imagery is pretty serious business

Dr King Is Smiling

2009-01-20T04:05:00.000-08:00

Enjoy
The photo is from "The Nation"
If you need help identifying everyone -let a brother know. I would be happy to do so
Today is for the past, present future, ancestors,slaves/slaveholders,Oppressed/oppressors , children/adults ,civil rights workers, human rights workers, people of all cultures in America/world citizens ,the witnesses to the past , and those yet to make their mark.The sky is not the limit. Yes we can!
Today the walls of my cynicism have holes that you can see hope through

If Its Magic, then why can't it be everlasting? If? If If Part 2

2009-01-14T20:44:00.000-08:00

This is my if , hmm (?), never thought about that, I wonder as I wander, endless possibilities, keeping it unreal, smoking maybes , choices and consequences riff on if. After contemplating, shaking your head in disgust, nodding in agreement , or just bugging out on the flavor of what you just savored-please feel free to answer the following questions-or post your own ode to the twilight zone tone of this post (your own magic ifs).

*Denotes Lyrics from the song" If It's Magic?" by The Maestro Stevie Wonder

* If It's magic, then why can't we make it everlasting-like the sun that always shines? Like the poet's endless rhymes? Like the galaxies in time?*

1 If we were all blind, what would be our standard of attractiveness in another person?
Would their intelligence, voices (vocal tone),conversation , energy,or feel to the touch ( and what would be the etiquette of that?) become the ways in which we would determine who's hot?

2 If you could go back in time to observe any single event in history , what would it be?

3 If you could only own one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?

4 If you were a master musician and could choose 3 other musicians to work with you to create a masterpiece , who would they be?

5 If you could have one wish come true, what would it be?

* If it's pleasing, then why can't it be never leaving? Like the day that never
fails? Like on seashores there are shells? Like the time that always tells?*

6 If Obama had lost, what would you have done?
7 If you could spend 30 minutes uninterrupted with any living person -who would it be?

8 If you had a superpower-what would it be?

9 If you could throw a shoe at a world leader -who? why?

10 . If you could breath underwater or travel through space without needing air-which one would you want?

* If it's special, then with it why aren't we as careful as making sure we dress in style? Posing pictures with a smile? Keeping danger from a child?*

11 If you had a television spot that gave you 5 minutes to broadcast your message to billions of people all over the world, what would you say?

12 If Love is the answer, what is the question?

* If it's magic, then why can't we make it everlasting-like the lifetime of the sun. It will leave no heart undone. For there's enough for everyone?*

Bonus quote: De La Soul - You're smoking maybe's and ifs. And if if was was a splif -we'd all be hiiiiigh!

If If If IF? part 1

2009-01-11T19:50:00.000-08:00

I remember a question posed to me at some point during my teens. The question was " If we had a Black President would that mean that we were free at last" I actually never gave much thought to that because -That would never happen in America. Well clearly and thankfully I was wrong. "Free at last?"-I think that we need to do a little more work in that department. We have traveled much further than my 85 year old stepfather would have ever thought possible. He was an airplane mechanic during WWII who had to teach the White kids under him everything that he knew -knowing that they would be his superiors in no time flat, He loves to talk about how proud he was of The Tuskegee Airmen and their superhero status for men like him. He sat on the backs of those buses in the South, averted his eyes to avoid eye contact, worked hard and watched less capable Whites get all the money and the glory. He raised a family to productive adulthood years before he met and married my mother (He is 20 something years older than her). He helped my mother and my sisters with my nieces without a complaint. I think about this question of "free at last" as it relates to all of the ancestors, older relatives, friends, and strangers who actually survived and accomplished a life during heavy Jim Crow and de facto Northern segregation - never mind slavery , reconstruction, and the great migration. If there is a question to be asked by those who both survived and triumphed in my opinion it would be" Have we overcome?" "Are we post racial?" If we are, where do we go from here? We have what was once thought impossible as our new reality If our child of the dream president doesn't live up to the expectations of so many, does it mean that we have all failed? If he triumphs is that a triumph for us all?

[IF]

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

--Rudyard Kipling

Was The Night Before Christmas ( and all through the hood) A Daniel Carlton Joint

2008-12-14T16:42:00.000-08:00

Harlem Christmas

By Daniel Carlton

It was the night before Christmas

All through the hood

Things were type quiet

You could say all good

The crack fiends were chilling

The weed heads and alkies too

It was so chill

Like the whole block took medicine for the flu

Windows were blinging

With colorful lights

It was like being in Times Square at midnight

The kids sleeping hard

But keeping their cool

On none of their mouths could you see any drool.

Dreaming about X boxes, dolls, and play stations too

Don’t Dreaming make the world feel brand new?

My shorty who is as fine as can be

Was looking flavalicious delicious

Hanging lights on the tree

I was about to give a hug you know, get me some love

When I heard this sound on the fire escape above

I grabbed my bat and ran to the window

Somebody is trying to get hurt messing with my flow

I looked up and saw this dude who was big like fat Joe

Or was it a pimp?

I kept hearing ho, ho,ho

Below on the street was a raggedy ride

I must of been tripping

It looked like it could fly

It was tagged up with some crazy names

Like dancer and prancer and does that say Rick James?

I needed a closer look to see what was up with this dude

But my Grandma would pop me if she saw me being rude

Then he looked at me with bight shiny eyes

I could tell that it wasn’t because he was high

He had on a red suit that looked real nice

His white belt was so big -on me- it would wrap around twice

His beard game was smooth

His sideburns were tight

Something about him was chill

Not looking for a fight

Then it hit me

I swear that it did

I hadn’t thought about him since I was a kid

He said “I see that you recognize who I am”

Then he rubbed his big belly full of mac and cheeses, fried chicken and ham

“ It’s good to be back in Harlem

This much is true”

“The Schomberg, Apollo, and Lenox Avenue too.

I,ve got to get over to Slyvia’s and get some soul food for my boo.”

“But first it ‘s time to pass out these gifts”

“The folks of Harlem need things that uplift”

“I can’t give out apartments that people can afford.

Somebody better get it together before they become null and void”

“I can’t teach the children how to read

Recognize that in your house video games aren’t a need”

“A book is the way to travel real cheap

You don’t even have to leave your couch and the stars you can reach”

“Everybody in life wants to have fun

How does that work if you have a gun?”

“Parents when they take time with young ones

Become the youth’s connection to the sun”

“Kids need to be kids

They’ll grow up soon enough

They’ll find out that without love

Life can be rough”

“Love has to work like a two way’s though

Or you’ll find yourself in a hole face down and covered with snow”

With that said I have to bounce-you know time to go”

“Ho, Ho , Ho”

He was gone like a ghost.

Without leaving toys his presents were still the most

The gift of knowledge was what he dropped

If we use them and share them

Harlem can’t be stopped.

Brother can you paradigm?: Revaluating my relationship with"White" America

2008-11-08T12:48:00.000-08:00

I need to qualify what I am saying in this blog dear reader before I make one single point about the title of this post . When I say "White America" I mean the historical force that created Jim Crow to dismiss the humanity of my ancestors, the need for a civil rights movement, and conditions that in many cases require almost super human abilities to rise above. My paradigm for so long needed fortification obtained through knowledge of the struggle and achievements of my people so that i could learn and teach others about the conditions of being black in America. Langston Hughes, Malcom X, DR. King, The Black Panther Party, Richard Wright, Maya Angeleou , Chester Himes, Lonne Bennett Jr, W.E.B Dubois, Mary Mcloud Bethune, and many other writers of color helped me in trying to make sense of a country that in many cases "Bell Curved" and rejected us simply for our melanin. Ironically my white third grade teacher (Mrs Kent) is the person who introduced me to Black authors. I am forever greatful to her for giving me the gift of counciousness . She looked at it as a positive thing to do for a kid who was struggling even at that tender age for role models that could affirm him in a way that showed him the intellectual achievements of the American stepchild . I Too Sing America indeed. She also taught me through her caring and action that there was not a monolith group called "White People", but that there were(and are) people who did not subscibe to the ideal of White Supremacy. She planted the seed in me that allowed me to process a world around me where White privlige was taken for granted by people who implied that Black people should get over slavery and move on. Until I went to college , Black History was relegated in my all Black and racially mixed schools to Slavery, Harriet Tubman, George Washington Carver, and the" I Have A Dream" speech. Mrs Kent was the opposite pole of those teachers later in my experience who dealt with us Black students with so much subcouncious or intentional bias. There is a quality that reminds me of Mrs Kent in all of my non Black friends. It's not that they are giving me Black literature or anything like that; It's that our friendship has not been shaped or blocked by racial bias. Because American life has been so harsh for so many Black folks in my lifetime, it has been hard for me to belive that I haven't just been incredibly blessed to have non predjudiced whites in my circle. I don't deny the amazing progress that has also happened in my lifetime. Black Americans have succeded in almost every aspect of American life. It's the paradox in the paradigm( or is it?) But it has seemed to me that whenever we have hoped for or believed in full participation of the American idea, some event has thrown a cold bucket of water into the melting pot. It's been particulary hard to believe when capitalizing on White fears of people of color(Willie Horton starring as the Black Boogeyman) has been the trump card as an election strategy. It clearly didn't work this time( Reverend Wright as The Angry Black Boogyman).
Do I believe that all of these stereotypes have gone the way of the Dinosaur? No, I don't. I do believe that Obama tapped into a consciousness of folks of all colors who are rejecting the old way. The oppostion was clearly about a lot of the status quo. Black folks alone didn't elect President Obama. Clearly the American public was smart enough to recognize the real call for change. I am ready to believe that young people in particular are not operating from the old paradigm. Their numbers are added to the numbers of all Americans who are finally ready (I hope) to judge a man by the content of his character
President Obama won. A Black man as President of the United States is cause for a major paradigm shift. I honestly did not think that he would win. Of course I voted along with other Black Americans with a sense of pride in terms of the long hard journey that produced his candidacy, but I never believed that enough White Americans would see the content of his character as opposed to the color of his skin.
I am ready to let go of my cynicism . Although , I am still a strong advocate for teaching and learning about the history and reality of our struggle, I am ready to let go of my assumptions that only exceptional White folks care about our common humanity. I am ready to believe in "change" Are we ready for the shift? So far , so good.

One Nation Under A Groove or Songs In the Keys Of Your Life

2008-10-17T20:24:00.000-07:00

One Nation Under Your Groove.
I have had the great fortune of seeing/hearing a lot of live music being played by some of my favorite artists or groups over the past few months including Ahmad Jamal, Stanley Clarke , Marcus Miller, Victor Wooten, Living Colour, The Family Stand, Esperanza, The Black Rock Coalition's Tribute To Prince, Sergio Mendes, Al Green, The Roots, Dianne Reeves, Raphael Sadiq, Dionne Farris, Me'shell Ndegeocello,and Danielia Cotton,Zapp Mama (and many more). The music for me has been manna from heaven. Music Sweet Music has touched all of our lives in so many ways. I can't imagine a day without a song in my heart. Can you? I mention Summer 08 because It was the first time in years that I had both the time to go and the acts that I wanted to see all in alignment. Now that the fall is here( and my birthday near) I have been reflecting a lot about the huge role that music plays in my life. My schedule ( or budget) is not as flexible anymore. This means that I'm back to the Cd's on home system rotation-or through my headphones during long commutes on the subway to different Teaching Artist gigs Although I have 30 gigabytes on my Zune, I still play a lot of the same CD's over and over again. Clearly these cd's are comfort food for my soul.
I'm curious about other folks favorite albums/cds. Here are my top 10 in no particular order:
What about you? What are your top 10 of all time?

1 Innervisions - Stevie Wonder "Don't You Worry Bout A Thing, Living For The City, Higher Ground, Golden Lady, Visions, Mista Know It All, All Is Fair In Love, Too High, Jesus Children Of America.- Every single song is a classic. The album was hope and despair all rolled into a higher force

2 Plantation Lullabies - Me'Shelle Ndegeocello Funky , deep, melodic , lyrical, hard, and soft

3 Mothership Connection - Parliament P Funk Uncut Funk The Bomb- Chocolate covered freaking habit forming Milky Way. We Want The Funk!

4 Moon In Scorpio - The Family Stand - In my universe this would have been #1 " Was I too funky? Should I go pop? Excuse me for trying. Mind If I rock? All across the nation, I hear plantation radio." Sandra St Victor is the Mack Diva for real.

5 Purple Rain - Prince " Let's Go Crazy"." Darling Nikki,"" The Beautiful Ones" "When Doves Cry" e.t.c The title song still moves me

6 What's Going On? - Marvin Gaye This music is still relevant and sounds great all of these years later.

7 Standing On The Verge Of Getting It On ? Hardcore Jollies/ One Nation Under A Groove-Funkadelic O.K I'm cheating a bit here ; these are actually 3 different albums,but they collectively embody all that I loved about these brothas with guitars, synths, and George Clinton's James Bown, Sly, and Jimi's propensity.

8 Talking Book - Stevie Wonder . Is he really blind? His heart sure isn't.

9 Pride - Living Colour - It's a collection of many of my favorite Living Colour Songs from their first few albums.

10 Band OF Gypsies - Jimi Hendrix- Jimi got back with the brotha's on this one. You can hear it!

Ok , I did say 10 , but that is almost impossible.

11 Songs In The Key Of Life / 12 Aquemeni ( Outkast) 13 Fufilingness First Finale 14 3+3 ( The Isley Brothers) 15 Black Music ( Chocolate Genius) 16 Heijera ( Joni Mitchell) 17 Introducing The Hardline ( Terence Trent D'arby) 18 Maxwell's Urban Hang Suite ( Maxwell) 19 The Score ( The Fugees) 20 New Moon Daughter ( Cassandra Wilson)

Let's face it ; Miles and the Roots would take another 5 places .

I'll stop here.
Please share yours

Kudzu, Mon Amour: joe the plumber

2008-10-16T17:41:00.000-07:00

Kudzu, Mon Amour: joe the plumber

Black Music Summer O8 The Children OF Funkadelic and Jimi's Band Of Gypsies/ Black Folks with Screaming Guitars ?

2008-08-31T18:00:00.000-07:00

"If Music Be The Food Of The Gods Play ON"
Man , what a summer of live music for me and all of the lucky music lovers in NYC. Seeing all of these live acts and their genre bending or pure soul essence made me reflect on what a blessing it is to live in this particular time and place of sonic freedom coupled with audiences created by seemingly unlimited access to their cosmic slop via the internet ( youtube, myspace, facebook, twitter, i tunes, e.t.c) and word of mouth. This reflection was also triggered by a twenty something woman who couldn't understand why I thought that the afro-punk festival was unique and essential for black kids who wanted to fly their freak flags high. Her position was (is) that young people today don't have apartheid walls around the music that they enjoy. " If we like it, we listen to it." The color or style doesn't matter" She said with the conviction of someone who doesn't even keep physical cd's in her home. Do I agree with her that the walls have fallen down? Not really. I do believe however that she knows her generation better than this born in the sixties man ever will. Plantation radio is still programmed by the keepers of the tradition . Genre radio is the norm not the exception. With that being said, I have not gone to one concert this summer that wasn't filled with multi colored,/culture knowledgeable fans who loved the music as much as I did. All of the artists that I speak of are Black (albeit different genres). A little background here:
As a little Kid in Harlem and Upstate New York in the 70's , it was all about Soul Music. The Jackson Five(later the Jackson's), Aretha, Gladys Knight and The Pips, Curtis Mayfield , The Temptations, Barry White, Stevie Wonder, Johnny Taylor, James Brown, Marvin Gaye, The Ojay's The Motown Canon, Natalie Cole, and too numerous to mention other purveyors of Classic Soul were the soundtrack to all of our lives. I used to wear my mom's 45's , eight tracks, and lp's out. I would create my own radio station by recording songs on my tape recorder. I would introduce them by recording my version of D.J voiced interludes . The songs lost a bit of crispness because they were filtered through the stereo speakers and my cheap microphone. No matter, I was THE SOUL MAN. Issac Hayes didn't have anything on my hot buttered soul. There were a lot of messages in that music also. I truly believe that they helped to shape my burgeoning social consciousness. Dig this lyric from my favorite elementary school song by Timmy Thomas (I think) " You may not have a great big Cadillac, diamond in the back, sunroof top, digging the scene with a gangster lean, gangster whitewall tv antenna sitting in the back. You may not have a car at all, but remember brothers and sisters-you can still stand and talk. Just be thankful for what you got" OK maybe that 's not the best example, but it was simple enough for me. I couldn't drive anyway( but I sure could talk) In all seriousness Stevie, Marvin, Curtis, The Main Ingredient, and many others were singing about the hopes and dreams through a 70's microphone that smelled of incense and visually took the place of a Black Power fist. We loved our sweet soul music. I assumed that the White Folks only liked their own music. We had posters of Pam Grier . They had Farah Fawcett Majors.
And Then we moved to Texas right as I was entering Middle School. The Soul music station went off the air at sundown. What was a hip young brother to do for his music fix? Why , I discovered the "white music" Elton, Pink Floyd, Traffic, James Taylor, The Stones, The Beatles, Led Zepplin, Heart, and all of the other extended jams found on FM. One night the sound that would blow all of the cobwebs out of my mind came through the cheap speakers like a personal present from GOD- JIMI HENDRIX. Man, all of the music prior to that was just to prime my ears for the truth. Funky , hard, bluesy, and otherworldly are only the tip of the iceberg in terms of what it all meant to my virgin ears. I wanted to walk and talk like this man. I wanted my fingers to produce magic like his did by merely touching a guitar string. I wanted to drink out of the same well that created my super hero. I wanted to wave my" freak flag" in the faces of all those plastic businessman trying to judge me. I smoked weed to just to hear the" wind cry Mary". I belonged in Electric Lady Land even if I wasn't "experienced" "Not necessarily bold, but beautiful ", "Just Ask The Axis" . Even though he had been dead for years I was so eager to share my newfound rockstar ; I tried to share him with my fellow new teens only to be told that it was " White Music". I learned to keep Jimi to myself. One day my cousin Karl turned me on to the music of this Jimi sound alike. His name was BootsyCollins. Whoa! This dude was no shower for a week funky! This dude was chitlins before they were cleaned funky. This dude was Hendrix for the black masses. I ate it up. Working my way through Bootsy, I discoverd the sound and movement that along with Hendrix defines me to this very day>Parliament/ Funkadelic. They had radio songs, so you weren't ostracized for listening to them. . They had concept albums that took me from my Texas which was full of rednecks, ignorance, guns, violence, Jesus everywhere, and kids who thought that I was weird , all the way to space and the bottom of the ocean." P Funk, uncut Funk, The Bomb" Afronots, Dr Funkenstien, members of a chocolate covered milkyway , Sir Nose D'Void of funk, and all kinds of Freak flag wavers dominated this universe. Other funk came to me through them ; the Ohio Players, Stanley Clarke, George Duke, Confunktion and all types of groove masters dominated my earholes. Parliament had the hits, but Funkadelic and their funk mob guitar army turned it out! Two words-Maggot Brain. They out soloed the "white" boys. Sadly it all came to an end for them all too soon. The Mothership flew off and left me looking around for the next guitar carrying Moses. He came not a moment too soon. His name was Prince and he was Funky! Rock Funky. Freaky Funky. Soft Funky. It's like Hendrix had an a.d.d son. I was at the alter of Prince quicker than you could say dancemusicsexromance. Purple Rain made him huge, but those of us who loved to knock down the barriers, loved him like a brother, sister, friend.
There have been many people throughout the years that have appealed to many cultures, but these were some of the few folks of my youth who really opened my eyes and ears to so much more. Maybe one towering person or group is not needed to open our minds anymore. There is so much music to access both past and present. I still believe that it is still more of an anomly than not to hear Black folks straight rocking out. I love Living Colour, but when have they ever been played on both urban and rock radio. I dig this woman named Daniela Cotton who can rock with the best, but I still believe that most folks would still consider her to be "White Music" I saw 3 of the most amazing bass players of all time ( Stanley Clarke, Marcus Miller, and Victor Wooten) last week in concert. The audience was more white than anything else. Raphael Sadiq was mostly Black folks when I saw him in concert a few days ago. But these may not be the rule. When I saw Al Green at Carnegie Hall with Dianne Reeves, I was fascinated by the interracial balance of the sing along crowd. Other concerts have shown me the same.
Is my 20 something friend right? Have we come to the place where music is just music? Is it the arist that you identify with as opposed to their race . Hip hop is consumed by Black and other youth in the same quantities now. That certainly wasn't the case when hip hop was young. When I saw the Roots at The Apollo Theater, I was sandwiched between Whites. Do Black kids today need a Hendrix or a Prince to show them the way to a bigger world? Do White Kids?

A Shoutout To Teaching Artists-Including Myself

2007-12-22T19:34:00.000-08:00

This is a combination love and appreciation letter to all of the Teaching Artists that I have had the pleasure to know and work with. I have been a teaching artist for all of my adult life. Some of the finest people and greatest friends who have had the greatest influence of my life share this profession. In light of the fact that many organizations that hire us out rarely give any praise , it is imperative that we celebrate ourselves and the multitude of people who have benefited from us sharing our craft.
For those who are unclear about the definition of a great teaching artist I define the artist as a person who is a qualified professional in an artistic endeavor who utilizes that skill to teach understanding of a topic(s) . Examples include a playwright using monologues to teach A.I.D.S prevention, an actor doing role plays with a group of teens to teach conflict resolution,, a storyteller helping children to create and act out their own fables, or muralist painting a wall with handicapped children in an institution. One of the many differences between an actual subject teacher at a school is that the Teaching artist also exits as an artist. Another difference is the amount and variety of settings in which a T.A 's work takes place. I have seen more jails, schools, mental institutions , group homes, hospitals, homeless shelters, and even bombed out theatres in war zones than even the clients or residents of these facilities. I do this challenging work with the joy and satisfaction that comes with seeing that lives have been touched and in some cases transformed.
Although the lack of health insurance, organisational respect, territorial or lackadasial school teachers and incompetent administrations, treks through snowstorms in shady neighborhoods, problems with the I.R.S , seeing some of the worse of the human condition , and constant quibbling over fees can wear out a teaching artist. The good however still far outweighs the bad. I have seen so much positive change come out of brief encounters. My ability to act, write and teach have allowed me to guide people to worlds of information far larger than my talents.

Blackout day/ Wearing Black For the Cause. I'd wear Black everyday if.......

2007-11-02T11:03:00.000-07:00

Today11/2/07 is being presented as a day for African Americans to refrain from spending money in America. This is a protest against the treatment of the Jena 6 and the proliferation of statement nooses that are appearing in greater numbers throughout America(kkka). I'm always down with collective mass action against the powers that be. Attending The million Man March was one of the highlights of my life. Although I'm no fan of Farrakhan I was on that from the very first moment that I heard of it. When I was informed of the " wear black for solidarity with the Jena " day last month, I did it however with a divided soul. On one hand , I completely loved the visual idea of Black Folks showing a united front to the rest of the nation. On the other hand , it just felt like empty symbolism. My daily hustle requires me to be in many places throughout N.Y.C. I looked around at all of the folks wearing black. Of course I tried to figure out who had intentional Black on. Unlike the "What's up Brotha? " greetings all day at the million man march, even people wearing the color seemed to be in their own worlds. There seemed to be a bit of the absence of the knowing head nods, the conspiratol glances , or the proud and defiant statements in the air. Statements like "I wish that one of these(fill in the blanks) would mess with me and my Black people today!"
I know that on some levels, that my disappointment lies in my slightly naive Utopian ideas of a unified Black nation within this nation. I know that the definitions as to whom is even a African American vary a lot from the one drop of Black blood makes you a part of us whether you want it to or not. I know that one point of view limits you as a human being. I know that we all should get along. I don't believe that some mystical Africa exists that we need to get back to so that we can be happy. I don't believe that every loc headed person is conscious. I don't believe that every permed, pressed, or weaved person is a self hater or race traitor.
The one thing that I do know is that this nation is far from color blind. The nooses are happening. Imus will be back on the air soon. The prisons are still full of Black men. Black women are receiving H.I.V at ridiculous rates. Many of our youth are not making it through the school systems. The list goes on and on.
Here is a list of some more things that I feel that we should wear Black for:

1 : A Nigger, Nigga, Niggaz , free day. Lets wear Black and refuse to say it for 24 hours. Maybe we can loosen it's grip some.

2: A Million White Men march on Washington to atone for their sins against People of Color.

3: Turn off our televisions and read a book day. I know that people tried to do it for a week last year, but the drug was too strong.

4 : A truce in the Sistah/Brotha battle. On this day we would restrain from making statements like" You know what's wrong with these Black women( substitute the word woman)? You know what's wrong with Black men( substitute the word men)?

5 No unsafe sex today.

6 . You fill in the rest. What would you wear Black for?

Beauty, Blackness , and a heartbreaking statement from a 14 year old Black Girl

2007-10-18T10:59:00.000-07:00

As long as I live,I will never understand the level of cruelty, self hate, misogyny, various phobias( homo and others), and forgetfulness that happens in our African American Community.

Now I'm no" Pull yourself up by your bootstrap" Booker T Washingtonian republican with disdain for our people. I don't subscribe to Bill Cosby's pound cake stealing thug who should stay away from the pristine Spellman College debutantes theory. I recognize that we have never collectively recovered from slavery, Jim Crow, the murders of our leaders and warriors, or the myriad ways that White Supremacy has worked it's number on us. I even understand first hand how hard it is to escape both the ghetto and it's psychological effects on your brain. Just erasing the word Nigger from my thoughts took a mental revolution of epic proportions that didn't happen in a day or two. What I don't understand is how in this day and age I could hear the statement that I recently heard from one of my 14 year old girl drama students.

" I didn't know how Black and ugly I was until I came to this High School."

What??????

With 40 -50 years of Maya Angelou's, Essence and Ebony Magazine, Roots, Malcom, Spike Lee, The Panthers, Oprah, Toni Morrison, The Color Purple/Alice Walker, e.t.c why are we still here in 07? This is a school that exists mainly of students of color. There are no nooses connected to dubious and arbitrary prosecutions of Black children. There is not a chapter of the KKK presided over underground by the principal or the math teacher. She was not being escorted by the National Guard while the good White citizens of the town spat on her. This happened in Brooklyn ,NY. Jackie Robinson ( a dark man) led the Dodgers to the baseball promised land. Spike Lee admonished us to do the right thing. Dark Shirley Chisolm ran for President of The United States here. The community of Weeksville was built here by a Community of free Black folks who owned their own property and businesses . The most diverse grouping of African Diasporan Peoples on the planet lives here. So where in the hell did this 14 year girls tormentors get the idea that dark skinned people are ugly?
It's and old idea that has been perpetuated by both white supremacists and lighter skinned members of our race. Why won't it die? Why is it still the show stopper of insults? Why are the darkest people on the planet some of it's most oppressed?
I don't want to cast aspersion on Brooklyn as the self hate capital of the U.S. Here's another story that involves a friend of from Harlem: My friend, a well respected actress was involved as a volunteer on a trip that took a group of Black and Brown young people on a trip to perform as part of a national theatre festival. At some point during the trip a discussion took place amongst some of the girls about hair. One of the hair weaved young ladies got into a heated argument about good hair with some of the more conscious young ladies. Finally in exasperation one of the young women asked her to point out an example of good hair. Hair weaved 16 year old pointed to my regal short Afro wearing friend and said "It aint that". My friend was crushed. You see this is a person who spent time in the movement. This is a person who has dedicated all of her adult life to an aesthetic of Black Pride and upliftment through the arts. This is a person who although not a star, has major peer respect in the business. This is a person who brings quality Art In Education with an equal passion to the children. This is a person of beauty.
There are many people who feel that the ideas of the sixties and below are outdated . Many believe that "Say it Loud , I'm Black and I'm proud " belongs in the museum of quaint played out old school. But maybe those Langston Hughes Poems aren't meant for the oppressor to see our "beauty and be ashamed". Maybe we need to dig into those crates to find the beauty in ourselves. Are little black girls still reaching for that blond doll as the standard of beauty?
To fling my arms in some place of the sun
Dance whirl dance
Till the white day is done
Then rest at cool evening
A tall slim tree
While night comes on tenderly
Black
Like Me
quote from Dream Variation by Langston Hughes

Homeless Families Put Out In The Streets of NYC/What kind of Ish is this?

2007-10-12T18:28:00.001-07:00

Being a New Yorker is a pretty sad thing these days. I mean sure we live in a city that has the greatest parks, museums, theaters, neighborhoods, some schools, dance clubs, concert halls, sporting events, and other diversions. On any given day you can explore the world without ever leaving town. But what about the flip side of all this? I believe that it is the for sale sign to big business(S) that exclude, evict, demonize, and demolish the poor. Rents are sky high. Gentrification is bulldozing and building over working class neighborhoods. I live in Harlem which means that I am a daily witness to the gentrification effect.Mom and pop businesses around my way are closing like crazy. I miss the soul food restaurant Copelands(145th terribly. I used to go to Reliables the cafeteria part of it when I wanted finger licking soul gravy that I sopped up with a delectable biscuit. Places like this were built to serve people who were forced by defacto segregation to live in these neighborhoods. Nobody outside of Black and Latinos were even trying to live up here. Even though the overcrowding and often poor conditions were coupled with slum living, some great Harlemites managed to build , create, overcome, and even triumph against great odds. A great many others fell victim to the vices of the street. Some never prevailed against the poverty. I certainly don't want to see the bad days come back, but those moving trucks that bring one family in to the good new times are replacing another group who won't reap the benefits of this great opportunity. Some will end up homeless. It's not like outside of the Public Housing ( with waiting lists that go on for years )that there is all of this great affordable housing waiting for poor or even middle class people to come take it. This scenario is taking place in other neighborhoods around the city. People who survived for years now can't afford to stay where they've invested generations. Where do they go? What about the minimum wage workers? Where do they go once a neighborhood is the new Harlem, Williamsburg , e.t.c? Now factor in the abused, uneducated, burnt out of their homes, down on their luck, or whatever causes the Marshall to say "hand over them keys." What if they have children? Where do they go?
NYC might be the only city in the country with A Right To Shelter Law. The way I understand it to work is that after a person or family declares themselves homeless , the city provides temporary shelter until they can connect you in to permanent housing. This idea worked for all involved for years because they were sent to look at apartments in a lot of less than desirable neighborhoods. Landlords liked it because they received that good section 8 money. When these neighborhoods gentrify, why should a landlord take a lesser amount than the 3 grand more that they can make from some gentrifying tenants? Plus section 8 make a lot of mistakes. I'm not even sure if they give section 8 vouchers to shelter residents anymore. So now , record numbers of families are trying to get in to the Shelter system. The city has decided that many of these people are fakes who really have somewhere to live. They are now turning families away unless they can prove that they've exhausted all of their living possibilities. Correct me if I'm wrong , but doesn't standing outside with your sad and hungry children begging for shelter say something about your housing possibilities? The city now says that if you have a relative or friend then you should go and live with them? Huh? What if that relative or friend is abusive. What if there's no space? What if the rules of their subsidized housing say that they can't have other people on the list? What if s can go on and on. If the city told you that you were ineligible before today's policy change, they gave the family temporary shelter until the issue could be resolved. Now they are not giving them a reprieve. They are turning people away at the gate. There is no room at the Inn. Less not even discuss all of the tragic fires that happen when 2 or more families double or triple up in one bedroom apartments Are we the people really allowing Big Business Bloomberg to put children out in the cold?
I am not a give everybody a hug and it will alright person. I do believe that people have to take responsibility when they can. But the flip side is the playing field is not equal for everyone .I also believe that there are poverty hustlers who take advantage of the system. Does that mean that we throw the baby and the bathwater out into the street. I have done work in the Shelter System for years as a teaching artist. I have seen the best and worse of human nature in these places. I have seen how many of the children are lost, angry, and disappointed in their parents. I have listened to grown men cry about what they perceive to be their failures as fathers. I've seen mothers trying to hold just one more day. I've heard people describe the system as their Santa Claus. I've never heard anyone talk about the affordable apartment that they lucked out on.
Maybe the Shelter part of this post is moot. The city is not letting them in there anyway.
I'm so disappointed in our city these days.

Homelessness/ 96th street on a saturday night

2007-10-11T10:00:00.000-07:00

This problem of homelessness in New York City always gives me pause and food for thought. Individual bag lady or shopping cart people , panhandlers, and runaway teens from Hick town America are only some of the more visible types of homeless. Like many people, I feel sympathy from a comfortable physical barrier. When one has to smell a crackhead's funk on a subway car , it has a tendency to make you hope that this encounter will be over with as soon as possible. How many of us have heard the , "I'm a veteran,, burned out of my apartment, and H.I.V positive stories and said to ourselves "After I give them this change, I hope they don't stand in front of me until the next stop"? Homelessness in your face is uncomfortable, disturbing, and sad. The majority of folks have their brief encounters with it, but don't think much about it after the moment is over. This is not an indictment on peoples reactions. It is a complex issue to ponder as we fight through for survival in our own lives. Occasionally even Hollywood and the Godhead/television have presented characters that find themselves shit out of luck. Of course these characters are usually sages who impart wisdom from the shopping cart. Or they turn out to be some legendary figure from the past who gets resurrected because of some child's relationship to him/her (usually him). We rarely have to think about the cold nights slept on subway cars, dehumanizing interactions with society, fear, shelter conditions , deteriorating health, stark poverty, mental illness,or drug addiction that accompany this life condition.Although I have done work in shelters using role paying and facilitation to teach health information , I recently found myself guilty of reacting in an inappropriate way during an incident with homeless man.
My Girlfriend and I were waiting for a train at 96th and Broadway. As is frequent on a Saturday night in NYC, the trains were rerouted. We had started out on a express train that had been making local stops before 96th . Anybody from NYC can tell you that trying to decipher what is going on from those warbled announcements over the train or train station's p.a systems is like trying to listen to a symphony underwater. When we got off signs were posted that explained what you needed to do to get to your destination. At this the 96th street stop, a homeless man in a wheelchair was tearing down one of the signs. I asked him "What are you doing?" Then I said" My man, people need to see those signs, chill." Well, that unleashed the fury of mental instability as he proceeded to curse me out. Instead of letting it go, I said" You can say what you want, but what's up with tearing down the signs?" He rolled up and down the station ranting about how people need to mind their business. Of course my Girlfriend is appalled by my actions. When the train finally rolls into the station , I know that this incident can end at last. I have never been lucky like that. He rolls his wheelchair into the same car as us. He then asks if anybody has a pen. I nudge my lady and whisper"Give him a pen please, maybe he'll go away." She gave it to me and I handed it to him. He snatched it from me, turned the sign over, and wrote I'm homeless and hungry on it. My lady gave me a "shouldn't you be ashamed of yourself look. I felt bad , but I mean during all of this he never paused from cussing at me or about me. I gave him a dollar to show no hard feelings. When he stood up to snatch it, we both noticed at the same time that he had a putrid knot the size of a grapefruit sticking out of his knee. My girl just gave me the gas face as he limped through the car giving his Vietnam Vet speech. All the while he pointed me out to everyone in the car. When he got back to his wheelchair , he asked her "Is he aways this nosy?" She nodded. He made some kind of muttered threat to me. The train came to his stop( a known drug spot I might add) he stumbled to his wheelchair and rolled off into the night.
I don't really care what those people on the train thought of me. I do care what my girl thinks. Although my experiences with other single homeless adults leads me to the conclusion that he is off to see the wizard of crack. Is that my business? Whatever gets him through the night of cold, fear, pain, and possible voices in his head is his business. This homeless thing is so complex.

Stay tuned - My next blog is on family homeless and the Family shelters. I have worked with this on so many levels
Peace
Daniel

My First Post

2007-10-08T10:54:00.000-07:00

I have decided to join the world of blogs for my own selfish reasons like everyone else of course. I need to stay in the practice of steady writing. One can only hope that this application of a public diary will improve both my skills in writing and my depth.
Things that I won't write about:
1 Gossip- I feel that our American culture is seriously focused on the most trivial escapism of celebrity nonsense. I am no Brittany Spears, Lindsy Lohan, or Beyonce obsessed person with all of the time in the world to spend posting or receiving images of their latest foolishness. The fame game must be a bit of a drag on the other side of it. Although I do know a few major celebrities from my days as an actor, the public can only recognize them as out sized cartoon characters in the atmosphere of television screens that showcase them with the same intensity revered for Gods in past mythologies. I once tried to satisfy my curiosity concerning this phenomena by reading different Black Gossip sites. From this experiment I did learn that this stuff does have a certain addictive pull. I found myself losing hours looking at the latest pictures, discovering the latest beefs, checking out the links, and even reading reality show blogs.
I am not saying this to knock any one's personal interest in this stuff. I hopefully won't get caught up in writing this myself( as mind candy distracting as it is.
Whatever my feelings about it , I do feel that there are some bloggers who satirize this surreal life really well. Clay Cane the writer/blogger comes to mind. His page consistently hits areas of black pop culture from his gay black male perspective. He also drops some deep history/science when he feels that we need a deeper understanding of the roots of Amerikkan dysfunctions and hypocrisies.

Things that I would love to write:

Social Commentary: I believe that in spite of the fact that we are living in a gossip saturated world, the African American social commentary is in a golden (Or should I say ebony) age. Micheal Eric Dyson, Cornell West, Marc Lamont Hill ,e.t.c
Although my thoughts represent a grain of sand in comparison to the ocean of their vast bodies of work, I do have some things to say based on my studies, experiences, observations, and questions.

Stories: I am a storyteller by profession. I have written many things out of necessity. I will use this forum to get feedback on some of my current projects by way of samples. For example, I am writing a novel for Young Adults called Sick Secrets. I would love to hear what you think dear readers.

My experiences as a Teaching Artist : I work in the craziest places. I use role playing as a teaching tool in schools, jails, mental institutions , homeless shelters , and even traditional theatres. I have not been good at keeping a log of my almost 20 years of experiences in this crazy world that makes you want to laugh, cry , or just shake your head about the doings in these joints. I will try to share twice weekly.

That's it for now. I thank all 10(lol) people who will ever read this.
Daniel