I read this poem as a teenager. Now, as an adult, I understand.
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings / Maya Angelou
The free bird leaps
on the back of the win
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hillfor the caged bird
sings of freedom
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Samba
Hello everyone,
I'm nearing the end of my MA in Urban Studies program. During this past summer, I realized that the classes I had taken cultivated a better understanding of my concentration, globalization and the city. I decided to take a Latin American Studies course to help me better understand how people from Latin America and their culture fit into American culture and the study of cities.
Last night, in my Latin America and Latino Cultures class, our country of discussion was beautiful Brazil. The name itself conjures images of vibrancy, euphoria and many of the cultural traditions highlighted in Alma Guillermoprieto's Samba.
Sociopolitical analysis of 1930s/1940s Brazil, on the other hand, conjures images of dictatorship, oppression and class stratification, which were implicitly expressed in our other book for the week Clarise Lispector's An Apprenticeship or the Book of Delights.
This blog entry is not a book review, however. I left the class wrapping my simple mind around how a class discussion initiatially based on the the sensual and passionate movement of samba morphed into talking about trauma. Guillermoprieto immersed herself into Brazilian culture, paying close attention to the evolution and consumption of samba. (Yes, I am extremely intentional in using the word consumption.) Samba was started by Afro-Brazilians. Over time, samba became more mainstream and huge (and lucrative) national fairs showcased the dancers. In this book, Guillermoprieto documents the dedication and pride that the Afro-Brazilians have for the samba art, costumes, makeup, and performers. Samba literally consumes their lives. Conversely, Brazil completely consumes samba. The samba dancers and teachers have so much joy for the art. Simultaneously, Brazil is under the leadership of a military dictatorship. These same people are living in grave poverty. Essentially, the colorful, fun and traditional dance that helps Afro-Brazilians preserve their history, is the same dance that their aristocrats commodify and exploit.
As a young urbanist/sociologist/over-analyzer, I often assert that in order to sustainably "develop" or "modernize" a country, we must study that country's culture. Studying the culture and social networks will enable developers to avoid providing economic development prescriptions that work on an anomaly (such as the United States), and instead, empower the people to reconstruct their own structures for more productivity. In the 1930s and 1940s, the people of Brazil were using their power to perform samba to fuel Brazil's tourist economy. At some point, and I don't know when, the performances became a commercial product. As we dove deeper into dialogue about the costumes and makeup, we juxtaposed the samba community to the inhumane power structures in Brazil; I was appalled. Frankly, the bright makeup of samba performances reminded me of the black faces in minstrel shows here in the United States.
Then, the problem got deeper and hurt my core. As a naive urbanist/sociologist/over-analyzer that advocates to put culture atop the list of considerations in a development project, I struggle with the question of
"How do we incorporate culture into a modernization process?"
As conflicting thoughts filled my mind, the next logical question was "who is this 'we'" The colonized, colonizers and their respective descendants each have a different perception of "we." Each group has an intricate history that must be considered. Additionally, in all perceptions of the history, we must acknowledge the trauma of slavery and colonization in Brazil, other developing countries and, honestly, in the United States. Essentially I realized, as Professor Benavides brilliantly said, we are all just trying to make sense of something, but [our conclusion] is culturally specific.
That's my issue today. How can we incorporate the trauma? Furthermore, do we (ALL OF US) even acknowledge the trauma and how it still affect us today? I'll pray on that and write again soon.
I'm nearing the end of my MA in Urban Studies program. During this past summer, I realized that the classes I had taken cultivated a better understanding of my concentration, globalization and the city. I decided to take a Latin American Studies course to help me better understand how people from Latin America and their culture fit into American culture and the study of cities.
Last night, in my Latin America and Latino Cultures class, our country of discussion was beautiful Brazil. The name itself conjures images of vibrancy, euphoria and many of the cultural traditions highlighted in Alma Guillermoprieto's Samba.
Sociopolitical analysis of 1930s/1940s Brazil, on the other hand, conjures images of dictatorship, oppression and class stratification, which were implicitly expressed in our other book for the week Clarise Lispector's An Apprenticeship or the Book of Delights.
As a young urbanist/sociologist/over-analyzer, I often assert that in order to sustainably "develop" or "modernize" a country, we must study that country's culture. Studying the culture and social networks will enable developers to avoid providing economic development prescriptions that work on an anomaly (such as the United States), and instead, empower the people to reconstruct their own structures for more productivity. In the 1930s and 1940s, the people of Brazil were using their power to perform samba to fuel Brazil's tourist economy. At some point, and I don't know when, the performances became a commercial product. As we dove deeper into dialogue about the costumes and makeup, we juxtaposed the samba community to the inhumane power structures in Brazil; I was appalled. Frankly, the bright makeup of samba performances reminded me of the black faces in minstrel shows here in the United States.
"How do we incorporate culture into a modernization process?"
As conflicting thoughts filled my mind, the next logical question was "who is this 'we'" The colonized, colonizers and their respective descendants each have a different perception of "we." Each group has an intricate history that must be considered. Additionally, in all perceptions of the history, we must acknowledge the trauma of slavery and colonization in Brazil, other developing countries and, honestly, in the United States. Essentially I realized, as Professor Benavides brilliantly said, we are all just trying to make sense of something, but [our conclusion] is culturally specific.
That's my issue today. How can we incorporate the trauma? Furthermore, do we (ALL OF US) even acknowledge the trauma and how it still affect us today? I'll pray on that and write again soon.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
A Scripture to Start the Day
I read my Daily Bread today and the scripture was so warm. Read it. Then, think about how encourage and display welcoming hospitality. I often refer to myself as "anti-social," but as much as I pretend to keep to myself, I love being around people. While reading this verse, I had to reflect on relationships in my life that aren't going to well. Am I really showing God's unconditional love? Or holding a meaningless grudge? Who knows.
Romans 12:9-21
9 Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. 10 Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. 11 Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. 12 Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. 13 Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality. 14 Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. 15 Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. 16 Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited. 17 Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. 18 If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. 19 Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,”[b says the Lord. 20 On the contrary: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.” 21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
Romans 12:9-21
9 Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. 10 Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. 11 Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. 12 Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. 13 Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality. 14 Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. 15 Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. 16 Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited. 17 Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. 18 If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. 19 Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,”[b says the Lord. 20 On the contrary: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.” 21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Masking the Shame in NOLA
I'm still processing my immersion trip to NOLA. I feel conflicted with mixed emotions. Trying to understand my feelings, led to a free write and the first half of my personal statement for law school. Figured I'd share it with some pictures from my trip.
New Orleans August 17, 2005 . ![]()
How sad. After six years, the city of New Orleans United States of America Bourbon Street and the Superdome. The city was able to patch up the broken windows and eroded parks. The city has not patched up one thing though. The poor, mentally disabled, or socially rejected people on the streets and in the alleys. They have upgraded from what the rest of the country recalls seeing on August 29th, 2005 . Instead of waving white flags and surrendinering themselves for their country’s help, they wave cardboard signs that simply say “I just need a drink.” At organization where we worked, they wave the queen of hearts in a spades game because that is what they do to pass the time in between their doctor’s appointments because the people there have HIV. Why does it bother me so much? Because it took me flying across the country to know that my people are living in third world conditions in the richest country on Earth. While I was studying and stressing about the LSAT, my people are trying to find food, protect themselves from a corrupt New Orleans Police Department, and avoid cancer-causing FEMA trailers. Going to law school and attaining my BA and MA will allow me to go into places like NOLA and advocate for sustainable community development.
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| Cafe Reconcile |
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| Literally, where the levees broke |
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| At our home in NOLA |
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| Greek Festival |
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| Just one of our many adventures |
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Day 1 of Fieldwork - Interviewing
Hello everyone,
Once again, it has been too long. Since my last entry, I've moved back to SaN Francisco, CA to do my fieldwork for my thesis. So yes I finished finals, did my immersion trip, took the LSAT, started working at the law firm, and started my research. My life is hectic as usual.
I'm not writing to vent though, more so to share. I was supposed to start my interviewing the week I returned to the California. I called up my friend to schedule all of the interviews. She informed me that due to various murders taking place in the neighborhood, many of the usual students in the program, were not coming. We got off the phone and all I could do was cry.
Time and time again, my colleagues in my Masters program ask me how will I refrain from being subjective in my research. My immediate (and well rehearsed) answer is "I have taken my passions, researched them, and successfully translated them into scholarly discourse. Through semi-structured interviewing, I hope to prove my hypotheses." Meanwhile, on the inside, my heart is saying, teenagers are not supposed to grow up meeting death before they have met life. Too many of my childhood friends have been murdered or involved with the "turf war" lifestyle; while even more of my female friends and family members have been adversely affected by it. I don't need Elijah Anderson, Lois Wacquant or Jodi Miller to teach me these things because I've lived it. Further, my first attempt at meeting the respondents because the population of 14-18 year old girls living in this neighborhood are afraid to leave their homes.
It's not right. As a community member, I'm outraged. As a researcher, I'm intrigued. As a Christian, I am praying steadfastly that the Lord provide a resolve.
A month later, I was able to start my interviews. I prepared a binder that has all of my current research, approximately 30 pages of literature reviews and information on my methods and methodology. A counselor and I sat down to do the interviews and my hypothese are already being proven. Approximately half of the respondents live in the neighborhood of interest. They describe their community as "full of hopelessness."
I try to leave all of my blogs on a high note, but I'm still processing this whole experience, so I'll end with a request to simply pray for a young people growing with no hope. I pray that God will speak to them and let them know that they must be the change they wish to see.
Once again, it has been too long. Since my last entry, I've moved back to SaN Francisco, CA to do my fieldwork for my thesis. So yes I finished finals, did my immersion trip, took the LSAT, started working at the law firm, and started my research. My life is hectic as usual.
I'm not writing to vent though, more so to share. I was supposed to start my interviewing the week I returned to the California. I called up my friend to schedule all of the interviews. She informed me that due to various murders taking place in the neighborhood, many of the usual students in the program, were not coming. We got off the phone and all I could do was cry.
Time and time again, my colleagues in my Masters program ask me how will I refrain from being subjective in my research. My immediate (and well rehearsed) answer is "I have taken my passions, researched them, and successfully translated them into scholarly discourse. Through semi-structured interviewing, I hope to prove my hypotheses." Meanwhile, on the inside, my heart is saying, teenagers are not supposed to grow up meeting death before they have met life. Too many of my childhood friends have been murdered or involved with the "turf war" lifestyle; while even more of my female friends and family members have been adversely affected by it. I don't need Elijah Anderson, Lois Wacquant or Jodi Miller to teach me these things because I've lived it. Further, my first attempt at meeting the respondents because the population of 14-18 year old girls living in this neighborhood are afraid to leave their homes.
It's not right. As a community member, I'm outraged. As a researcher, I'm intrigued. As a Christian, I am praying steadfastly that the Lord provide a resolve.
A month later, I was able to start my interviews. I prepared a binder that has all of my current research, approximately 30 pages of literature reviews and information on my methods and methodology. A counselor and I sat down to do the interviews and my hypothese are already being proven. Approximately half of the respondents live in the neighborhood of interest. They describe their community as "full of hopelessness."
I try to leave all of my blogs on a high note, but I'm still processing this whole experience, so I'll end with a request to simply pray for a young people growing with no hope. I pray that God will speak to them and let them know that they must be the change they wish to see.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Emotional Rollercoaster
As an undergraduate, I constantly complained about being extremely busy and not having time for myself. As a graduate student, I do not even have the time to complain. My last blog post was in February! Between work, classes, LSAT and my New Orleans immersion trip, I have not had much free time. So here we go with a brief update.
I will be home, reunited with friends and family in San Francisco on June 5th.
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| Breana and Sonny came to visit for Mother's Day |
I also start my field work that week. I'm working with a community center in Bayview/Hunter's Point, interviewing girls for my masters thesis. I'm also working this summer. So again, I should be stressed. The last 10 months has reiterated the fact, God has such a larger purpose for my life.
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| Team OMA (Office of Multicultural Affairs) |
When I tell people about the many obstacles I've had to overcome, they are literally amazed. Over the past few months, I've disclosed anecdotes about my life and attested to my unconditional love for God, and many of my students are surprised. They are confused how I can go through such things, talk comfortably about social injustice, and still believe that God has my back. I wholeheartedly believe that God puts you through trials, to make you stronger. With strength and wisdom, you can be someone else's angel. I've had many angel moments this semester.
One in particular has brought tears to my eyes many nights. Back in January, I met a student. He is a charismatic and passionate person, so we immediately connected. We converse about our similar family backgrounds, our love for new things and our desire to help people. When I told him about losing my mom, he shared with me that his mom also battled cancer. He empathized with me because he had to help his mother as a teenager, but fortunately, he helped nurse his mother back to good health. Two weeks ago, I was in a meeting with the student, and he didn't seem like his normal self. He told the group that his mother's cancer had come back and the doctors are giving her six months. As I attentively listened, I didn't even notice the tears running down my face. I could remember having the same heart-wrenching conversation with my mom's doctor and the end result.
So what could I do? I, by myself, could not do anything. I prayed and asked God, "Can you use me to bless him?" At 18 years old, a doctor told me those same words and I was lost. Of course I related with the student. So how did God use me? Miraculously (because I don't read the Bible as much I should), I was able to say:
"Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint" (Isaiah 40:31).
"Be strong! Be courageous! Do not be afraid of them! For the Lord your God will be with you. He will neither fail you nor forsake you" (Deuteronomy 31:6).
And I hugged him. I gave him the tightest and warmest embrace that I could. I know that God is real and His love was in that hug! The same weekend that people are cheering with hearts of hatred because Osama Bin Laden was killed, we hugged each other and experienced God everlasting love flowing between us. The past couple months have been some the hardest of my life, but it has only cultivated my testimony.
I don't share this to be audacious nor preachy. I share it to show God's power. Have you taken the time to share and cultivate your testimony? We are all amazing people -College students, graduates, young professionals, leaders in your respective field. We are achieving over and over again but how often do we take the time to reflect on the struggles in our lives? Take the time to think about stepping out of your comfort zone so that God can use you to touch people.
While studying for my LSAT, I will be taking a giant jump out of my comfort zone and traveling to New Orleans, LA to live in a residential facility for people living with HIV/AIDS. Am I scared? Yes, but just about flying. I have no worries because I embrace the scripture "Be still and know that I am God."
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| My NOLA team (missing a couple) |
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| Just me exploring New York, NY (finally) |
Monday, February 28, 2011
New Orleans on My Mind
Hi everyone!
I have finally, well almost finally, crafted my research question:
"How does the social capitol of adolescent African American girls affect their integration into public space?" I plan to answer the question through qualitative interviews with young people Bayview/Hunter's Point this summer.
I am extremely excited for my research because I can finally bridge the gap between my intellectual pursuits and my community. However, before beginning this summer, I am chaperoning a student group on a service-learning trip. 11 undergraduate students and I will go to New Orleans, Louisiana for 10 days. Interestingly, the trip’s activities directly reflect one of my sorority's newest initiatives, Social Justice and Human Rights. We will be living at the Lazarus Project. The Lazarus Project is a residential facility for people living with HIV/AIDS. Hurricane Katrina directly afflicted many of the residents. Our job is to listen to their stories, help execute daily services and gain a better understanding of New Orleans culture.
I can really use your prayers and support while preparing for the trip. I know it will be tough emotionally, but it be a life-changing experience. I'm really really really excited to be immersed in the culture, people and history of New Orleans.
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| Jambalaya |
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| Louis Armstrong |
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| Mardi Gras |
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| Marie Laveau |
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| New Orleans Saints |
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| Add caption |
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| Po Boy |
New Orleans by Charles Perkins
If your American dream is painted on a canvasNeatly folded in the corner of Andy Warhol’s mind
New Orleans is a hurricane beating down your coast
If you close your eyes
And feel the easy ride
Of the St. Charles Street Car
Where a solo tuba
Blows the scent of magnolia
Down narrow streets
and everyone plays possum with the heat
and no one’s too big or too small
to paint their tongue with a snowball
where former slaves pay homage to the first Americans
by masking in suits of rhine stones and bright colored feathers
that transform security guards into Indian Chiefs
doing rain dances on Congo Square
where the drums drum
and the wine drink
and the big chief sing
somebody give me a quarter
cause pretty big chief want some water
if you can envision the souls of yesterday
living in the music
that rises from the cracks in the sidewalks
New Orleans is your dream
With a heart as soft
As the spanish moss
Dripping from centuries old oak tress
She’s a pretty face with dirty feet
The good witch of lake Ponchartrain
The spice god of shrimp and crawfish
Keeping the spirits fed
Communities of windowless monuments
Masquerading as cemeteries
Tower above ground
No earth or worms to cover the flesh
No silver bullets to turn out the spirits
That still dance with her
Spin your umbrella
And wave your bandanna
It’s Mardi Gras time
And everybody’s happy
Armed with a blue print of civilization
The new world stormed in
With enough asphalt and cement
To pave a boulevard back to Paris
the spirit of the swamp still hasn’t submitted
Leaving mildewed kisses of disapproval
On every thing foreign to the wet lands
Catholicism could not turn out the spirit of Marie Laveau
The wrecking ball could not turn out the spirit of Storyville
And death could not turn out the spirit of Louie Armstrong
When yesterday hangs on to forever
Tradition is a temple.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Able-Bodied and Socially Just
Hello everyone!
It has been a long time! Unfortunately and fortunately, I have been extremely busy with school, work and navigating New York winter weather.
So many blog topics have come up over the past couple months but one in particular has been on my mind. Firstly, let me start with a small academic update. This semester is taking me deeper into to my masters thesis. In addition to taking a Research Design course, I'm taking an Urban Political Process class and a sociology course about Immigration. On the first day of my political science class my professor was flabbergasted when I told class that I aspire to be a politician. Because New York and San Francisco are so influential, controversial and popular, naturally, residents of each city are cynical and critical of their city politics. That's fine. I've been in love with the law and social change for a long time so there is no changing my aspiration. Reading various articles and books has made me more thoughtful about decisions made by our government, especially when basic social services are not offered to impoverished people living in these cities.
Working on a college campus, in an office dedicated to multicultural affairs, I'm constantly reminded of social identity. One political policy has really triggered and irritated me. The snowstorms in NY have made national news. I, along with other New York residents, have been highly upset with city's inefficient and ineffective methods to cleaning up the snow. Furthermore, I really don't like being cold or my feet getting wet as I walk the few blocks to school. As I was marching and trying to maintain my balance on countless yards of snow, I thought to myself, how would I get through this in a wheelchair? Or with a walking stick?
After I stopped and thanked God for blessing me to be physically capable to do this, I had to really stop and think of what type of civic servant will I be? Working solely for economic development is not enough. Fighting the good fight and advocating for racial equality is great. However, it is time for public servants, especially our elected officials to move passed the basics and incorporate all of their constituents. We hear it over and over again, be the change. Let's talk about it and be about it.
It has been a long time! Unfortunately and fortunately, I have been extremely busy with school, work and navigating New York winter weather.
So many blog topics have come up over the past couple months but one in particular has been on my mind. Firstly, let me start with a small academic update. This semester is taking me deeper into to my masters thesis. In addition to taking a Research Design course, I'm taking an Urban Political Process class and a sociology course about Immigration. On the first day of my political science class my professor was flabbergasted when I told class that I aspire to be a politician. Because New York and San Francisco are so influential, controversial and popular, naturally, residents of each city are cynical and critical of their city politics. That's fine. I've been in love with the law and social change for a long time so there is no changing my aspiration. Reading various articles and books has made me more thoughtful about decisions made by our government, especially when basic social services are not offered to impoverished people living in these cities.
Working on a college campus, in an office dedicated to multicultural affairs, I'm constantly reminded of social identity. One political policy has really triggered and irritated me. The snowstorms in NY have made national news. I, along with other New York residents, have been highly upset with city's inefficient and ineffective methods to cleaning up the snow. Furthermore, I really don't like being cold or my feet getting wet as I walk the few blocks to school. As I was marching and trying to maintain my balance on countless yards of snow, I thought to myself, how would I get through this in a wheelchair? Or with a walking stick?
After I stopped and thanked God for blessing me to be physically capable to do this, I had to really stop and think of what type of civic servant will I be? Working solely for economic development is not enough. Fighting the good fight and advocating for racial equality is great. However, it is time for public servants, especially our elected officials to move passed the basics and incorporate all of their constituents. We hear it over and over again, be the change. Let's talk about it and be about it.
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