No. 63 - Heaven at Our Doors

Sometimes, when we are open to the gifts of light and life that await us, when we have stopped our daily toil long enough to breathe, when we allow ourselves to put our guard down long enough to feel the warm Sunlight… it is then that we are exposed to the Heaven at Our Doors.

For so long I’ve been sharing my vision of a better community, of Men and Women treating one another with love, respect, and kindness. So long I’ve found reason to maintain my faith in Our Human Spirit and need to experience a higher sense of community, not because it was always the reality of my life, but because somewhere in my past I had once eaten of that luscious fruit and my Soul would not rest until I ate of it again. Ultimately, I have believed this kind of lifestyle is possible regardless of the challenges and pains anyone of us might have faced – or might ever face.

On Saturday I was invited to a colleagues home to take it easy and spend time with friends. I didn’t know any of the people there, save the one individual that invited me. Naturally, I went. It wasn’t long before I was chatting with Men and Women about things both professional and personal. I wandered amidst this small crowd of friends and family (I was the foreigner) and at no time did I feel I was an outsider. Everyone approached me and we shared laughs, stories, and kindness.

And the story gets even better...

There was a time when I passed through the aromatic dining room where couples were sharing meals and chatting it up, as I went to sit in the living room. It wasn’t until after I had sat down to really take in the experience that I noticed all the smiling faces of the ten to fifteen beautiful little children that sat and ran about, or stopped to look at me. It was the most powerful experience I have had in many years. It was the manifestation of tangible evidence that Love abounds at every level. I did not see arguing, disdain, or contempt for or in anyone. The fact the children were playing freely together was precious. And the fact everyone made it his or her goal to at least shake my hand and say hello simply blew my mind.

It dawned on me this was the first time in a very long time that I was exposed to such support and giving without even the slightest hint of negative energy.

As I walked home I wondered why so many of us have stopped doing this. Why have we forsaken our time-honored tradition of coming together to reinforce our sense of community and familial bond? How is it that we have allowed our gains, pain, suffering, loss, or hardships to replace our necessary need for come together to appreciate one another in happiness? And how can we so willingly allow the simple Heavenly action of coming together in the spirit of sharing, giving, nurturing, and healing to fade from our family traditions?

We have work to do.

On Sunday, as I so often do, I visited another Church. I heard talks of love and compassion, of healing and of coming together. As I listened I smiled openly because it came to me that – here again – our Churches are doing their level best to help us remember that we are all in this together, that we can all share in a greater joy, sense of personal fulfillment, and community pride if (and when) we decide to come together.

What is important to note is that many Churches continue to fight for our livelihood and happiness even in the midst of all the storms our hard-hit communities endure. They are steadfast and dedicated to helping even ONE person live a healthier, happier life. There are many faith leaders that espouse the words and ideals that can create for us, a Heaven in our midst. And we all ought to commend them.

All too often we have bought into the divisive ideals or opinions that keep us out of Church or away from our community. All too often we rather find reason to minimize or even excuse the role Church plays in our lives for the sake of some convenient habit we have come to cherish.

But look at the where we are today. We are now killing one another more so than ever before – and for the simplest of irrational reasons. Our kids raise themselves and have no respect for themselves, their elders, their community… Each passing month more of us are losing interest in our dreams, and even greater numbers are giving up in fear of what they have thought themselves into believing. This is our justification for giving up?

Someone once asked me what Church do I belong to. My answer is simple. I belong to all Churches and I belong to all communities that seek to do good for themselves and create a more enriching, enlightened, or successful society.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting that you start going to church…especially those who have completely written off the value our Churches have in our communities. I am suggesting that it is long past time for us to stop the perpetual rhetoric, the cyclical complaining, and the convenient finger pointing, and that we start looking for reasons to come together now in support of one another.

Potlucks, family support groups, getting all the kids together at the park, taking time to visit a loved one that has been quietly suffering in lonesomeness and/or illness – these are the things we CAN do that cost little in comparison to what we all will gain. We have a ton of good experiences right on the other side of the door…

So, Heaven is at Our Doors… we simple have to take action to open them.

No. 62 - The African Teacher

Last night I watched a show on HG TV and was quite intrigued by the content they chose to show. There is this Tribe in Africa called the Himba and they have maintained their family bonds since the beginning of time. (And by the way, they are Black, like you -- and that’s a good thing). I watched intently and was drawn to the stunning difference between their world and mine. I soon came to the conclusion that their world IS mine, and my world IS theirs.

To put it another way, I think we no longer need to say “how great we were”… Africa has been crying out to us, telling us in real time how great we are.

So why have we gotten to the place and time in this, our American “history” that is so dark, hurtful, dysfunctional and broken? What reasons do we have that justify collectively turning our backs to the powerful lessons of community that our Ancestors still demonstrate today?

The memories of the young African man will all be examples of learning and wisdom… of thoughts of the African father taking his small child to the field and TEACHING him how to sustain his life, and that of the community he so desperately needs… teaching him the value of familial integrity, wisdom, respect, and honor. He teaches his young child how to avoid the peril and pitfalls of life’s odyssey so the young man, once released into the community, is ready to be a Man. The Africa Teacher will work along side his beloved Son in the heat of the day knowing full-well it is his duty and honor to teach his child to survive. No matter what challenge he and his family will face, they will face it together. It is the difference between life and death.

The memories of too many American Black Youth are not the same. They are dark, filled with thoughts of anger, hurt, shame, fear, and distrust. While there is always that faint glimmer of brightness and hope, it is slow in coming, and quick at visiting. Their music is telling them to have no regard for, or commitment to, their community. Their video games are teaching them to hurt one another… to steal away in the darkness and do some ruinous act to another person, simply for the rush of it. It is the difference between life and death.

They are handed-off from grade to grade with little reason to try because they have more bad memories than good, and We haven’t made it our mission to give them better.

…And they are not yet ready to live as Men because WE have not taught them. Our actions as men have been less about uniting and sustaining, and more about dividing, defeating, diminishing.

It all makes sense, now.

We Black Men in America need to step up to the plate and stop the non-sense, and then recommit to being better Men. If there is any truth or rationale to what I propose then you must do something about this. If you feel this is simply rhetoric, then thanks for reading… please do continue.

Now, I’m not saying we can flip a switch and start to make a difference… the better question is how can we flip the switch?

We are a brilliant people, designed to survive anything, and I think we simply need to re-align that brilliance. I think we need to make a decision to stop destroying our communities, our families, our selves. When one hurts we all hurt. So, to me, it doesn’t really matter what side a person may take, if it isn’t OUR side then EVERYONE will be hurting. If you would just stop and think about who is hurting it is clear everyone is.

I think as Men we need to learn how to teach our young Men to become old Men. We need to learn how to come together as a community of brothers ALL working towards a better life for our families. We need to find that wise old Grandfather – or Grandfather-Person – who has been married for thirty proud years, ask His advise, and start listening to what he says. And we need to start forgiving others and ourselves.

Here is a test: Take a penny and put it on a table. Wait one second. Then two. Now, try to pick the penny up. GREAT YOU DID IT! So here’s the question: Did you try to pick the penny up, or did you pick the penny up?

An observation: A person will choose to do something or they won’t. No in-betweens. Trying does not exist when it comes to our will power. We either will or we won’t.

Most importantly, WE have the will to DO what we want.

So, I guess I was saying we can flip the switch – but, alas, I had figured that out (I’m just enjoying the sharing of these thoughts)…

In any event, I know this is a touchy subject so I tried to take a lighter approach (believe it or not). I hope it in some way causes you to think about the (African and American) worlds you (Black Men) live in, and understand that we do have it within us to come together as a community of great people committed to the survival and betterment of ALL of us.

I hope it causes you to talk to someone you love and/or care about and ask them what they think. A passing stranger would work well also.

As I contrast the two approaches and consider which might be in the true best interest of our community’s survival, in all honesty and fairness, I would much rather the African Approach to building Men. I think the results are there for all to see.



All praises to The African Teacher.

No. 61 - Dream==World

A few minutes ago I awakened abruptly from what I had hoped would be a pleasant night of sleep that, in truth, was a night of dream-filled torment. I recall my breath coming in sharply, a sense of urgency, feelings of sadness, despair, anger. I looked around to see where I was… had I just experienced something real? The images, sensations, conversations and perspectives I had while in deep slumber seemed to be so real to me… so real and so genuine that now, even as I sit here awake, part of my minds eye is still considering the messages and lesson to be learned that can be gleaned from that dream==world.

There was a place, a different world, inhabited by many different peoples, all who had found a way to live together peacefully. Each sect was different – looked different, had different cultures, and acted in ways that suited them. Theirs was a prosperous land, having no need for war, no need for anger, no need for jails, and no interest in exploiting their own language. They dealt with their issues with rules and laws that insured one group could not benefit from the other.

Then there was another group… the group that felt envy, fear, hatred, malice, and every other kind of fear based negative emotion one could have. This group was collectively guided by their unyielding need to offset their overwhelming sense of fear with their even great need for power. They had watched the peaceful people for some time and concluded that even while these people “appeared” to be calm, they were only acting this way as a way to fool their enemy. “Sure”, they thought, “a group as mighty as this would some day be a threat…”. “Surely”, they reasoned, “these people were up to no good.”

And so, the one group attacked the other.

When the attacks began the peaceful people came together to understand their options and decide what to do in their best interests. Surely, these actions against them had not been provoked… It was decided that they should leave their land to find another place where they could create a home, and so every one of these people gathered what was necessary and left.

The attacks continued. Everywhere they went they where attacked… their numbers began to shrink. Fathers would go into the field to find sustenance for the wandering family only to never be seen again… or worse…

After a time a stirring began within the peaceful group. Many of the people that had lost someone close decided they would run no more. They would take up arms and defend their people. Many of the elders resisted this notion because it was not the way of their culture and they feared this kind of change would not help -- but only introduce the very behaviors that had killed so many of the peaceful people -- into their very presence. The defender group would not hear these warnings.

And so a new fight began, now with the thinking that this is the only way to send a message to the evil group that their attacks would no longer be tolerated. Initially this response had the impact of stunning the other side… but only temporarily.

As the fighting wore on the landscape became barren and would not support the people. Food became scare and the peaceful people were forced to stay in their resting places longer because they had to cover more ground with each move. Their people were scared, tired, hurting, hungry.

As things continued to worsen, the elders came together and all agreed that this was the beginning of an end for their cultures. They had seen that now even members of their own community had become as heartless and brutal as the very group from which they were protecting their people. “Evil begets Evil”, became the mantra that resonated from lip to ear throughout group.

Finally, on the day of the end, the last battle was fought. It is here that this dream and my reality blended in the way that ultimately caused me to awaken in a panic. I saw many terrible acts of brutality happen to these people… to ALL of the people.

At times I was an observer, a fly on the wall, an element of wind that happened to breeze by the torrential flood of hurt, pain and devastation.

And at other times I found myself wielding some sinister form of weaponry in defense of someone I loved and/or cared about, ready to die (or bring death to the attacker) for what I believed was the right thing to do. My mind saw the ravages of war, and what one fearful man could do to another. My perspective was shockingly draw to the intimate detail of mothers and children wailing in agony as they saw the one they loved lost in battle.

This visage disturbed me to the point I needed to yell for it all to end. No more could I bear the with-ness of these images, the with-ness of the screams of agony, the with-ness of the mental hardship so many where forced to bear.

It took me half a second to wake up. It took me ten minutes to calm myself down and realize it was only a dream – a nightmare. It took me twenty minutes to decide I needed to write about this.

It’s taken me six years of work in the streets and witnessing the traumatic affects and impact of fighting, hurting, emotional dysfunction, and minimal (or non-existent) respect for others to come to more fully appreciate one key question I think we should all consider more carefully:

How closely do our dreams and our realities align?