National Museum of African American History and Culture grand opening

You Are Enough...

Rober F. Smith delivers a riveting commencement speech to the class of 2015 at  American University. In it, he urged students to "dream big" and recognize that they are enough. He goes on to state that "A life contained is no life at all….You are enough to create ripples of change that bend the arc of humanity closer to justice." To find out more about Robert Smith's work visit his website.

American University School of International Service
Sunday, May 10, 2015
Washington, D.C.

My BLOOMBARS Poetry Reading

Jewish Palestinian Redux

Winfrey Giving $12M to New African-American Museum - ABC News

Winfrey Giving $12M to New African-American Museum - ABC News

School Closed FOR GOOD!

In education, the United States ranks 17th out of 50 countries.  That is a sad number for a country that claims leadership in so many other areas.  It seems that education is not the top priority.  It is proof that many are not concerned with problems that do not affect the majority.  For instance, it is mostly inner-city neighborhoods in various urban centers across the United States that are being affected by the growing number of school closings.  The parents and leaders of those communities are concerned because it will not only cause inconvenience for a disproportionate number of African American parents, but it will also be dangerous for the children who will have to attend other schools in other neighborhoods. 

Why is this such a bad thing?  Well, there are rival crews and gangs in those other neighborhoods.  This may sound silly but it is the sad reality.  What are the choices for African American students growing up in this type of environment?  Well, many of them will be brave and fight their way through.  Other students will just choose not to attend school.  This, of course, could cause a spike in dropout rates that are already high.  Unfortunately, there are others who will perish because of their courage.

I know this because I grew up in a similar environment.  I grew up in the Linda Pollin Memorial Housing Project (now demolished) in Southeast Washington.  My old elementary school is one of many schools set to close in Washington, D.C.  This is going to affect over 200 children Ferebee-Hope who will have to find another school to attend.  Why would this affect elementary school children?  Well, it was in that elementary school, back in the 1970s mind you, where I was first robbed. I also started hooking school around the fifth or Sixth grade.  It all started there at Washington Highland Elementary (Now Ferebee-Hope Elementary).  More instability in a potentially unstable environment can have devastating consequences.  Back then, the school was 100% African American.  Today, it is nearly the same at 99%.

The problems which existed for me as a student there some 35 years ago still exist for those students today.  In some cases, the problems are magnified.  So, I hope that state and local governments will consider the ramifications of their actions as they continue to close more schools in the African American community.  I think that it would be wise and to the benefit to the children to find out exactly what can be done to prevent these closings or come up with better solutions to protect these children once they arrive at their new school.  It should be taken just as serious as those first students who entered Little Rock Central High School in 1957.  In some cases, it will be even more dangerous. 

Testimony About Truancy in DCPS

Today, I read an article in the Washington Examiner that the Washington, D.C. Public School system (DCPS) will start referring the parents of frequently truant students to child-protective services.  In reading about this, I could not help but think back to my elementary school days at Washington Highland  (now Ferebee-Hope) Elementary in southeast Washington, D.C.  Back then, I don't think my case would've been referred to as "frequent," but I definitely spent time "ducking the paddy wagon" as we used to say.  In 1978, it seemed like a part of growing up in DC.  Unlike today, the school system didn't have the automated service that would call your home when a student was absent, and if they did there was no answering machine and definitely not a voice-mail.  African American single parents like my mother depended on older siblings to keep the rest of the children in "check" because she was working full time at the hospital. There were also times that she would work the night shift, so we had lots of opportunity to sneak, duck, and dodge.

Well, eventually I was sent away to live with relatives in another state because my parents felt that I would have a better chance for a quality education.  As I look back, it definitely paid off.  I eventually graduated high school, served in the military, and attended college. As for some of today's parents who are also facing insurmountable challenges in raising today's children, there is really no place to send their children.  Unlike, yesteryear, there is no truly safe haven in the United States for parents to shield their children from trouble.  In other words, trouble is pretty wide spread in comparison to 1978-79.  Today's small towns like the one I was sent to in North Carolina is a different place today.  This is due largely to unemployment, drugs and a receding of societal and community values.

Therefore, I feel that this new effort to control truancy is commendable; I get the point -- local government is trying to make parents more responsible for their children.  This will address the a problem that exist in DCPS among mostly African American families.  As widely known around the DC metro area, there are little to no white working-class families in Washington, D.C.  It is for the African American families who still remain in a city that is quickly losing its black and brown population.  

It is It is also commendable that DCPS is putting other assistance in place besides the child-protective services in order to monitor the problem and refer the parents to someone who can help with their truant child.  I truly hope that their efforts will not back fire and cause more problems. Otherwise, I pray that the same grace from God will protect those families as I was protected.  Today, I am a teacher; I teach young adults at a local college.  Now, I know that I am not lucky but blessed.  I pray those same blessings for the children of DCPS.

Source:  Washington Examiner article
Photo:  Gibbs Elementary School, Washington, D.C.

15-Year-Old Graduates From The University of Baltimore

 

This is a great story about an exceptional young man, Ty Hobson-Powell.  I already want to make his first name his initials, T.H. Powell.  It just sounds great for the history books.  I'm sorry, but this makes me so excited; this brings me so much joy.  Out of all the negative press that we get in the media concerning young African American men, this is so refreshing.  I pray that God protects this young man and take him to new heights - far beyong what he can imagine.  By the way, a special kudos to his parents, family, and community because it takes a village.  Press on Ty.  Press on.  I wish you all the success that God can give.  He gave you that talent for a reason -- His purpose.  Check out the video.

Photo source:  qcitymetro.com

Aunt Juanita Bruce

She was grandma's older sister. I called her Amanita. She was born and raised in Washington, D.C. Grandma once described her as the "party" sister or at least the more adventurous one. She hit all of the hot spots as a young woman in DC during the 1940’s. Her favorite hang out spots were places like, The Howard Theater and bars like The Casbah on U Street. She would outgrow the DC scene and move to Chicago sometime in the 1950’s. She lived on the South Side of Chicago for almost 20 years before moving back to DC in the late 60’s. By the time I came along, Amanita had lived most of her life. She settled down into an apartment on E street in Northeast DC. In fact, her apartment was right across the hall from my grandmother’s place.

Amanita would get me dressed every morning for school when I began kindergarten at Gibbs Elementary in 1972. She would fuss and tug as she tried to get me ready for school in the morning. I would always asked her for some pickles because I could smell them on her breath early in the morning. She would fuss and tell me that she didn’t have any pickles as she put on my jacket to walk me down the street to school. I always wondered why she wouldn’t let me have any pickles?

Eventually, I became old enough to walk to school by myself and Amanita would be on the front stoop everyday when I came home. She would be fussing about something because she was always fussing. Maybe my shirt wasn’t tucked in or I had dirt on my face from recess. She always had a ready thumb full of pickled saliva to wipe away any evidence of dirt. I didn't like that.

In 1979, I was sent to North Carolina for school. I was 12 years old and I only came home to DC during the summer months. Surprisingly, I missed Amanita and all her fussing. I would always go by to see her whenever I came home. She would give me that big, wet auntie kiss and we would catch up on what’s been going on. Well, years passed and Amanita died in 1984 when I was in the 11th grade. For some reason, I wasn’t able to attend her funeral? It took me a week to actually mourn her death. It was one day after school that I began to cry while doing my homework at the dinner table. It was then that I realized how much I loved my Amanita.

In the end, I found out that Amanita’s name was really Juanita. When I was a child I called her exactly what the other children called her, which was "Ama-nita" or "Ama-needa." Now, I realize that they were combining the words Aunt + Juanita = Amaneeda. I also found out that she didn’t eat pickles at all. Aunt Juanita liked her Gin. God bless Amanita.

Africa's legacy in Mexico: Exhibit at the Smithsonian

“The African Presence in México: From Yanga to the Present”

Opens at the Anacostia Community Museum in Anacostia from Nov. 8 through July 4, 2010.

Address and Contact info:
1901 Fort Pl SE
Washington, DC 20020-3298
(202) 633-4820

Atonement 76'

Sometime back in the fall or spring 1976, I was just a boy at Washington Highland Elementary School in Washington, D.C. Well, one morning I was playing with some friends outside on the schoolyard pictured above. I remember that it was in the morning right before the bell. That morning, we laughed and chased each other around the bumpy asphalt we called our playground. Back then, there was no soft foam or sand to play on in my neighborhood in Southeast D.C. There was just asphalt, rocks, and sometimes glass. As you can see, nothing has changed.  While playing “chase” with another child, I accidentally bumped into a little girl and she fell face-down onto the hard asphalt. Initially, she did not make a sound and then she rolled over to her back and let out the most horrific scream. It was so loud that all the children stopped playing to look. I stood there amazed as I watched her older sister pick her up from the ground.

At that moment, I could see that her mouth was busted from the impact of the fall. There were front teeth missing and blood dripping from the mouth mixed with tears and saliva. I was immediately filled with terror and remorse for my carelessness, so I ran over to say that I was sorry for what I had done. The older sister looked at me in a way that I will never forget; her eyes seemed to express both sorrow for her sister and hate for me. Her eyelids squinted and expanded as she looked at me with a tight mouth and growing anger. Now, I know what my mother meant when she would say, “…if looks could kill.” I felt that she wanted to kill me that morning in 1976.

The little girl, with busted, swollen lips lost her front teeth that day; Me? I was made to sit in the classroom for the rest of morning and afternoon recess to think about what I had done. This moment took place over 30 years ago and I’ve never forgotten. Sometimes, I wonder whatever happened to that little girl. If she is still with us and hasn’t fallen as prey to the cruel streets, I pray that God will bless her right now as I write my thoughts. Also, if she and her older sister still remember that remorseful little boy at that moment -- over 30 years ago on the asphalt playground -- I pray that they have forgiven me. Peace~

Inaugural Thoughts

Well, I didn't make any of the Inaugural events. I stayed home with my wife who is on crutches. She encouraged me to go to the African Diaspora Ball and the events downtown, but I stayed home and we watched it together on CNN; It was nice. I'm a little sad that I missed it up close and live, but I definitely did not want to miss it without my mosadi -- my loving wife. Were you there in person? Tell us about it:

Photography: Spring Fashion

One cool brother on H Street

(Click photo to Enlarge)

I haven't posted any of my photos recently, so I decided to share this one today. This is the Washington, DC I know. Perhaps you have seen this photo before, but it is worth showing again. Enjoy the rest of your weekend. Peace~

Photography: The DC I See

Mocha Hut

Alley Caddy

African American owned Industrial Bank

Les Nubian (They will be performing live at Bohemian Caverns on July 19th. Click to see a closer image and more of my photos on Flickr)

These are just a few of the images I saw around town last weekend. If you celebrate the 4th of July I wish you a pleasant and safe holiday. The 4th of July in my family is an excuse to grill/BBQ. *smile* So, you know I will be getting a plate tommorow!

Ellington's on Eighth

This past Saturday, I had the pleasure of seeing a couple of live bands play at Ellington’s on Eighth. Ellington’s on Eighth has been located on 8th Street in Southeast Washington near the Marine Barracks since Mother’s Day in 1998. Saturday’s performances were by Nigerian singer and songwriter, Kuku and South African band, Mahala featuring the magical guitar on Mongezi “Chris” Ntaka. It was a real treat. Now, top that off with an international buffet featuring West African/Caribbean cuisine and great conversation, then you have a typical evening at Ellington’s on Eighth. This cozy little champagne lounge and garden café was started by two sisters from Iowa name, Marsha and Annette Martin. They saw Ellington’s as an opportunity to serve and give back to the community. As a matter of fact, Ellington’s staff was chosen through referrals from places like DC Central Kitchen. This fit in well with Annette’s background in Social Work. She could serve the community as a business owner and continue her mission as someone who loves to help others. I’ve never met Marsha Martin, but Annette Martin is a wonderful person. Her warm manner and ready smile reminds me of an auntie or older sister. On any given day she could be seen talking and laughing with the customers. I’m sure that she has often been mistaken for a waitress or server because she is always among the patrons making sure they are comfortable and being served. Unfortunately, Ellington’s on Eighth closed its doors after nine years of serving the Capitol Hill community. Family, friends, and patrons said their goodbyes this past Sunday on their 9th Anniversary. Ellington’s on Eighth will be missed…but only in the Capitol Hill neighborhood. Annette Martin assured me and others that she and her sister are considering other locations in the DC metropolitan area for a future location. So, all is not lost on this journey and perhaps the Ellington name will reemerge on another street closer to you or me. I hope so and I hope it’s soon. So, thank you Annette and Marsha for nine great years on 8th Street. Annette, thank you for taking the time to talk with me and for showing me your book on African Americans in Iowa. I'd also like to thank your very funny and talented staff for their service and wonderful hospitality. I wish you the very best. Peace~

Clarification and message from Annette:

"one clarifiication ... of the employees you met on Saturday ... two were from DC Third and EATS (Community Family Life Services), one from Ballou High School and another from CSOSA. I have also been fortunate to employ a number of people from the HOMELAND .... AFRICA ... this has given be great HAPPINESS . I have grown so much. Ellington's on Eighth is a special place ... I am glad to have met you."

Photography: Scenes on H Street in DC

United House of Prayer

Mural for Million Family March

Men's Fashion Center

A closer look

Young and hip in DC

90 Bus headed southeast on H St.

Flyer I saw on a pole

H street was one of the hardest hit areas during the riots of 1968. It has deteriorated a great deal since 1968, but efforts are underway to revitalize this part of DC. It's a straight shot to downtown so developers are erecting condominiums and lofts to attract money. The Victorian style homes that surround the H street neighborhood are also being revitalized.

Poetry: Thomas Bess Jr.

I wanted to leave you guys with a little poetry for the weekend. A couple of you have already seen this video, but I wanted to share it with the rest of the community. The artist is my younger brother Thomas. His music and life is based in Atlanta, GA. He is a spoken word artist, painter, brother, and friend. Thomas is featured on a few cd's in the business, but his latest solo effort is called Action Theory . This is Thomas' first solo cd and it is tight! The best has yet to come. For sentimental reasons, I'm still attached to his premiere cd as a member of the Atlanta based group, Jason Blackwell. the cd is titled, Urban Experimentalist. The featured video performance can not be heard on either cd, but it's definitely worth hearing. Keep in mind that some of the language may offend. Also, I did the camera work so forgive the bootleg quality of the video. *smile* Enjoy your weekend. Peace~

DC Riots of 1968

The corner of 14th and U Street in Northwest DC

The date was Thursday, April 4, 1968. It was time for change. If you were somewhere around the corner of 14th and U Street (Little Harlem) in Washington, D.C. things would’ve seemed normal. Unbeknownst to the people, it would become a transitional period in this nation’s history. It was early in the evening and there were people moving about. Black people. There were nurses, police officers, prostitutes, construction workers, pick-pockets, pimps, and preachers just carrying on like any other day. I often imagine that day even though I was just an eight month old baby living in Northeast Washington, D.C. with my parents.

I imagine a young black man walking down 14th Street that day in 1968. He's carrying a small transistor radio. The radio is playing Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell’s new hit, Ain’t nothing like the real thing. He seems to enjoy it as he smiles and pops his fingers to the melody. Suddenly, the song is interrupted and the disc jockey’s voice comes over the radio. He isn’t his usually exciting self. His tone is low-spirited and sad. The young man first stopped to see if anything was wrong with his new radio and then he heard the disc jockey announce that Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot and killed in Memphis. In disbelief, the young man stopped a woman on the sidewalk and asked if she'd heard about Dr. King! The woman's mouth fell opened as she placed her hand on her chest.

All around people began to stop all along the 14th and U Street corridor. They are all talking about the death of a King. It was felt all over the nation that day. In fact, the same thing was taking place in Baltimore City, 125th Street and Lenox Avenue in New York, 63rd Street and Cottage Grove in Chicago, and Third and McLeiuore in Memphis. The nation stopped. Again, it was a transitional period for the descendants of Africans in America. The cool and non-violent Negroes of the Dr. King era were quickly becoming volatile, hot, and Black!

Violence erupted in at least 110 US cities. The brunt of the rioting took place in predominantly black urban areas. The worst riots were felt in Chicago, Baltimore and Washington, D.C. The government ordered 22,000 federal troops and 34, 000 national guard to aid local police departments. The atmosphere was complete pandemonium. The Godfather of Soul, James Brown, appeared on national television to urge the people to not react in anger towards Dr. King's death. This did very little to put out the flames of change. Rioting continued throughout the weekend here in DC. By Sunday morning, 12 people were dead, 1,097 injured and over 6,100 were arrested. Additionally, at least 1,200 buildings were burned. 900 of those buildings were businesses. Damages were said to reach $27 million. The 1968 riots had a devastating affect on Washington's inner-city economy that can still be felt today. Nationally, state and local governments did very little to repair the damages in the largely affected/infected black areas. Many of the businesses did not return and urban decay set in. The date was April 4, 1968.


Photo credit and sources: The Progressive Review, the Smithsonian institution Research Information System, Scurlock Studios of Washington DC and Wikipedia

Books on Subject: Ten blocks from the White House: Anatomy of the Washington riots of 1968, Ben W. Gilbert, 1968
Hard Revolution, George Pelecanos, 2004

Website: larryrosen.org

Marvin Gaye: Silky Soul Singer

"...We're all sensitive people

With so much to give

Understand me, sugar

Since we got to be here

Let's live

I love you..."

Let's Get It On~Motown 1973

Marvin Pentz Gay, Jr. was born on April 2, 1939 in Washington, D.C. Marvin Gaye died on April 1, 1984 after an altercation with his father. The altercation ended when Marvin Sr. pulled out a gun and shot his son twice in the chest. [Time of death: 1:01 pm] Marvin Gaye, an American Music icon and Motown legend. Peace~

Side story: My uncle, Merrill "Boogie" Owens, [now deceased] nearly wrecked his vehicle when he heard the news on the radio about Marvin Gayes' death. He pulled over to the side of the road that afternoon and sobbed.

Photo Credit: http://www.thelincolntheatre.org/

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.”