Lil' Stevie's Question on Crime

[Stevie arrives home from school. His mother is in the kitchen making dinner.]
Stevie: “Hey, momma!”

Momma: “Hey Stevie! How was school today?”

Stevie: “It was okay.”

[Stevie slumps into the chair at the kitchen table]

Momma: “What’s wrong baby? Is everything all right in school?”

Stevie: “Momma, didn’t you always tell me that if somebody put their hands on me that I should make sure that they don’t do it again?”

Momma: [Mother rushes to look at Stevie closely] “Yes. Why, did somebody put their hands on you today?”

Stevie: “No, but Officer Friendly was at our school today.”

Momma: “Oh, that’s nice. I used to love it when Officer Friendly came to visit our school when I was a little girl. What did he share with the kids today?”

Stevie: “Momma, he said that more and more young black men are dying by the hands of another black man every day in America before they reach the age of 21. Officer friendly said that kids are dying by the thousands!”

Momma: “Yes child…it’s a mess out there. A young boy was just killed over on 4th Street just the other day, but what does that have to do with what I told you?”

Stevie: “Well, I was thinking. There must be a lot of mothers out there telling their sons the same thing that you told me.”

Momma: “Hmmm…what makes you say that?”

Stevie: “Well, I was thinking...there are thousands of young black men who will never get a chance to put their hands on anybody ever again.”

Lil' Stevie's Christmas Questions

Lil Stevie: “Momma, how come we don’t got no chimney?
Momma: “You mean, why don’t we have a chimney?”
Lil Stevie: “Yes, Ma’am.”
Momma: “Well, because we live in an apartment.”
Lil Stevie: “Oh. Well, how is Santa going to get the presents to us if he can’t come down the chimney like on TV?”
Momma: “He’ll come through the front door.”
Lil Stevie: “Who will let him in? Won’t you be sleep?”
Momma: “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

(Stevie looks at his mother and scratches his head)

Lil Stevie: “No momma! ‘Cause If you do that then somebody will come in behind Santa and try to rob him! Then, they will probably beat him up, take his money, take his reindeer and sell ‘em, sell all the little girls and boys toys, plus our gifts! After all of that then Christmas will be over!”
Momma: “No it won’t son because we’ll still have Jesus.”

(Stevie looks at his mother and scratches his head again)

Lil Stevie: “Momma, what does Jesus have to do with Christmas?”

Poetry: Complex Identity

I'm am re-posting this poem that I originally posted in April 2005 when I first began blogging. Bougie Black Boy discovered it in my archives and thought that readers would be interested. Thanks Bougie! I read this poem for the first time in months and decided to change the title.

This poem came to me as I was getting off of the subway train (originally posted: 4/17/2005)


I am Ghetto
I am Bourgeois
I am Elitist
I am Sexist
I am Voyeuristic
I am Spiritual
I am demonic
I am racist
I am Capitalist
I am a purist
I am all these things in alchemy
Forming a cosmic blend of Native-Afro-Neo-Euro-Old soul-Negro
Rising above stereotypes and perceptions
Frequent erections remind me of my potent nature
Spewing fertile life
producing seedlings that grow
Following the aftermath

The New South

I remember getting fountain cherry cokes from Clark's Pharmacy on Saturday mornings on Main Street in Williamston. I think you can still get them there (cherry or vanilla). It was what we did on Saturday mornings in that sleepy town nestled on the Roanoke river. Williamston, North Carolina was a perfectly quiet and segregated town when I was a teenager in the early 1980's. The Jim Crow signs were down by then, but the sentiment still lingered. There were still at least two segregated lunch counters and other places that were "understood" as off limits. The town has changed some since then. The lunch counters and other establishments are now all fully integrated.

Is it safe now? Well, It is no longer the safe haven from the city that my parents knew when they sent me there at the age of 12. It's still safer than a larger city, but it has lost its "innocence." Dope and cocaine can now be found within it's crevices and street corners. As a matter of fact, there are parts of town that have become so urban that they have changed the name of the street. For instance, Sycamore Street has now become Martin Luther King, Jr. Drive. Unfortunately, that's usually a clear indication that the Ghetto has arrived.

Martin Luther King, Jr., God bless your soul