conscious vibration

"Birth of Sistella Black"

2012-01-20T10:47:00.000-05:00

a new poem, work in progress:

The Birth of Sistella Black

(in response to the question -- "what are you?")

The question, then the stare

I begin with a smile and exhale

Cause maybe you just see a tattoo’ed freak with locs

Or a racially ambiguous, ethnic something or other

But what happens when you hear me speak or discover I am a learned woman

Do I become more than… my marked-immigrant-colored-body?

I am female-bodied human, Gendered She

Light-skinned, Multiracial Black

Caribbean born, Raised up in Fyah

I am grandaughter of Mabel Sistella Charles and Viola Nixon

I am great grandaughters of Mamas Willabie Black and Mary Burrows Lee

I am daughter of Kim Grace Louise Howard

I am a reflection of my ancestors

especially the ones I never met in the flesh

I am golden light in accents

yellow, brown, red, and black

I am the color that makes some feel safe

I am the underbelly of shame and desire

of what you do not remember.

I am hypervisible yet you do not see me.

I am coming out and up for air everyday.

I am the flip side

the pink of a conch shell

the layers you pull open only to discover

what is silent

I am what you cannot ignore any longer

I am the product of colonial mishaps

and inconvenient, no other choice, sexual relations

I am the sistah soldier in the struggle

rocking your world

disrupting your imagination

fueling your fantasies

I am remaking and renaming myself

I am Sistella Black

II.

I have carved on my skin lineage of meanings

of who I am, making you see me

I have studied and read, written and learned

shared and transformed by, transforming knowledges

I am light and love manifesting conscious vibration

I am blessed, opportunities grasped and ridden high

I am all that I dream of being

sexy and spirit centered

I am evolving and growing

the storm of revolution

I am sister and daughter of the earth

orange moon goddess under sun’scape showers

communing with forests and troubled sweet waters

I am what makes you feel discomfort

III.

I am years of education

I am questioning, critical, idealistic, cynical

hopeful even when there is none

I am same sex loving, bisexual and queer

I am freak nasty, vibrating on high poly-rythmic freak-quencies

I am love dancing and fucking

under a wolf’s full moon

sistah to the night's warm healing touch

I am daughter of Oshun reflecting Erzulie

I am star gazing, moon worshipping, night loving, conjure woman

I am wrapped in histories and herstories

of my people, never forgetting

where I come from

I have done things to get here

you will never understand

I am dark and dangerous, loving and creating

in spite of you, holding the earth, humanity’s elements

spirits close to me

Blessings for 2012 & Ayiti Resurrect Updates!

2011-12-31T13:10:00.000-05:00

Greetings friends/family/kin!

I hope your holidays have been filled with joy, peace & blessings! Wishing each of you a beautiful new year and so much love as we bring in 2012!

I am heading to Haiti on January 4th - for Ayiti Resurrect's second delegation! Most of you know about my work in Haiti, and so here are some updates. And for those of you who don't know, here is an overview. I am sending out positive and conscious vibrations for your continued support and belief in our healing collective -- AYITI RESURRECT! This collaborative work with my sistren Beatrice and Naima has been an amazing journey for the past year and a half -- and I would truly appreciate any help you can offer in the coming days -- by spreading the word, sharing links about our work, and checking out all the ways you can contribute (donations, supplies, indiegogo campaign, sponsor a delegate, etc.):

http://www.ayitiresurrect.org/contribute/

Ayiti Resurrect is a grassroots collective that formed in the aftermath of the earthquake based on principles of solidarity, creativity, and collective resilience. A team of visionary artists, community builders, and holistic healers with bloodlines in the Caribbean and African Diaspora, we have organized ourselves to work in collaboration with local Haitian organizations to facilitate psychological and spiritual healing for earthquake survivors.

Here is a description of our January 2012 Delegation: Ayiti Resurrect has assembled an incredible team of holistic healers, artists, musicians, dancers, yoga instructors, permaculture gardeners and environmental innovators who will be traveling to Haiti during the first two weeks of January, working in collaboration with artists, healers and community builders living in Haiti, to implement a Mental Wellness & Stress Relief clinic, initiate an environmental sustainability education project, and facilitate art and music therapy workshops with and for quake survivors. Workshops and sessions will be organized by Haitians and international allies through collaboration and shared facilitation, and the coalescing of our energy, creativity and wisdom promises to be powerful!!!

Fundraising Efforts: We have hosted three amazing fundraisers this Fall - one in New York, another in California, and a third one in The Bahamas. Thanks to everyone who made these possible and supported these events! We also have an internet based fundraising campaign through IndieGoGo -- which ends TODAY, but there are still many more ways to contribute and help the delegation - check the main website and/or get in touch with me!

*** A Special Thanks to my folks/kin in The Bahamas and to The Hub for a beautiful fundraiser in Nassau on Dec 16th! -- especially to all the performers who shared their talents, words, and music -- Erin Greene, Artist Javan, Mark Bethel, Helen Klonaris, John Nutt, Red Eye, and Maz & the rest of the members of Foreign Sound! *~* More special thanks to Margot Bethel for donating the Hub and its resources and making it all happen! And thank to all those who donated during and after the event!!! ***

Learn more about our delegate team, what we are offering, and our strategy for sustainability at www.ayitiresurrect.org. You can also find out more details about our history, past work, and the partnerships we have here and in Haiti. Here is a powerful video produced by core collective member Naima Penniman about our journey and work with AYITI RESURRECT. Please watch and share with others!

We are making a final push for our fundraising efforts to make sure that our January delegation will go smoothly and effectively!!!

We are a grassroots endeavor of two communities coming together across bloodlines and continents to facilitate healing from within. We are not an NGO with foundational or institutional backing, we are representatives from our hometowns, our neighborhoods, and our lineages. Your support means everything as we engage in this all volunteer work dedicated to cultivating genuine people-to-people solidarity among members of the African diasporic family while reinforcing the strength and autonomy of the Haitian community.

Thank you for taking the time to read about this work and for your continued support! GIVING THANKS to all of my friends/fam and kinfolk who have believed in me and have made all this possible through your donations, through your prayers, and through your love. I am so grateful to be able to do this work - and I am able to do it because of all of you!

As we bring in the new year, let us do so with such positivity and abundance that 2012 will bring us all what we need and desire!!! This year will bring in a Dragon Year, which is my year to spark and renew!!! It also ushers in the dawning of aquarius... new forms of consciousness rising and embracing us all!!!

with peace, love & conscious vibration!

Angelique

Angela Davis at Occupy NYC

2011-12-31T12:37:00.000-05:00

I dropped off the blog posting this fall... to much goin on... but as I do at the end of year, I am catching up and posting thangs that have been on my radar and on my mind that I want to share and keep on the conscious vibration...

Major Highlight from Occupy Wall Street for me was Angela Davis speaking and blessing the movement with her wisdom. I spent much of the Fall immersed in people of color caucus - in between my other projects and teaching... I remember her speech today as we wrap up the year.

Angela Davis spoke at Occupy Wall Street Washington Square Park in October - she urged the movement to embrace a "complex unity" within the concept of "99 percent." She evoked Audre Lorde in response to her question "How can we come together in a unity that is complex and emancipatory? Differences must not be merely tolerated but seen as a fund of necessary polarities between which our creativity can spark like the dialectic."

occupynyc on livestream.com. Broadcast Live Free

notes from my summer gypsy travels & fall journeys

2011-11-10T04:41:00.000-05:00

I've been deep in the throws of adjusting to a new place and new job... and at the same time, keeping up with all my other work... The summer was incredible... and the fall has been more hectic than usual, but I'm coming up for air and grounding...

I've been writing in my journal, but my musings, thoughts and ramblings haven't made it to the blog... and so now I play catch up with myself and my public writing sphere... Here are notes and the beginnings of poems from my travels this summer:

Moon Rise in Ayiti - July 2011

There is nothing else except this moon, this moment
She calls me with a wisp of wind
cooling my sun kissed skin

I am driving with a friend in Leogane
We are talking politics, the earth, and Ayiti
His home, his country, the place
that reaches underneath my skin

connected through my Caribbean-ness
through my homeland, The Bahamas,
my forging better, ethical relations
with the place, the people, our people

The road is a reflection of slow recovery
I look up after hearing the moon's call
the clouds clear a path for me to see her shine

She calls forth my light, beaconing me
for healing and embrace, her voice lingers in the night sky
glowing with dimensions of gold and yellow hues of white
beaming in her full glory, a reflection of us

I can see the world through her fullness
I can see just how small we are, how connected we are

There must be life out there on other stars
What could our world be if we took this moment
only to love and be loved

Mantra - healing for Ayiti - July 2011

flowing through us is light, goodness & love
we share blood, We share stories, We share histories

flowing through us is power, unity & resistance
we share in this growing
we share in this knowledge building
we share in community

we share, we build, we heal (with each other)
flowing through us many languages, peaceful voices, sharing light
we speak, we listen, we create

The more I (need) learn - Ayiti - July 2011

My tongue is held captive here in this place where I don't know
her language, I want to know,
but my mind is tired and failing at retention

I hear and read words from my Kreyol book, longing to keep them
in memory, but I feel at capacity... like nothing else can fit
the most difficulty part of this journey... is language
the thing that separates... is the thing I love and inhabit

I am supposed to be good at this - the learning of new things
- the study of language and words - Kreyol - so resilient,
filled with power of syncretic vision and survival, no matter what

How I long for your touch on my tongue, to dream in Kreyol,
to speak with ease, to overstand
I feel trapped in translation,
trusting others to relay messages and emotions
of solidarity and healing and plans for next time

Patience is cultivated as I wait and my tongue fumbles,
thirsty in my desert of knowing
I am making another promise under a breathtaking star-filled sky
this time in Sodo, a place of healing and celebration

The starts are dancing with possibility and knowing
I feel humbled once again to be here
I promised to speak and to listen
I promised to do something

and I am doing that something
yet I must have my tongue informed, ready for action
it is time and I must

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

* Poetics of Resistance Workshop * Detroit, August 2011

I led a workshop for Detroit Summer and had the most amazing time building, learning, and sharing with a brilliant group of youth. One of the writing exercises I had the students do was to respond to an Audre Lorde quote. I picked quotes that offered insights and a reflection of all that Lorde was up to as a warrior Black lesbian poet and activist. I also wrote with the students.

"Our feelings are our most genuine paths to knowledge" - Audre Lorde

Knowledge is built through all of us
years of memories, remembering and re-writing,
re-telling and transforming through histories and herstories
we build stories and lives out of collective knowledge,
feelings and intuition from our ancestors
who share with us through dreams, in our spirits
and vision of the past and future

We feel the movements of our ancestors through genetic memory
they rustle through the wind and trees
and burst forth in the rain on a stormy day
they speak through thunder and snaps of lightening
through my third eye

I see feelings and touch them with a slight caress
just to remind myself that I am alive
and I am here with purpose
this is knowledge
this knowing this being and becoming self

Our paths become illuminated through exploration of feelings
They drive my vision and desires for change
to build a better and just world
to live and love freely as June Jordan says
to recognize, celebrate, and build across differences as Audre Lorde says
these two sparks offer an ocean of feelings

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

And then the Fall brought with her changing leaves, the largest social movement(s) of my lifetime... and since mid September... I've been wrapped in its grasp and promise... consensus building, democratic process unfolding and embraced, the work of resistance, and the sustained critique of capitalism...

Talkin bout a Revolution... or I Stay Woke...
* New York, 26 Oct 2011

this new moon in october vibrates through the echos
of change, we want now
i obsess over websites, occupy blogs, live streams, and democracy now!
in between my weekend visits to new york
i join the people of color working group at occupy wall street

diving right into the work and organizing of this
wondrous and complex movement
changing like fall leaves
we must be like the wind to keep up

and i ask how can we rise as a people (of color)?
long experienced in lack: marginalization, disenfranchisement, police/state brutality, deportation, criminalization, displacement, dehumanization, economic and social injustice... the lingering effects of slavery and colonialism... globalization and immigration policies... interlocking systems of oppression... we have long been occupied...

(Communities of color, the poor and working class, immigrant communities, formerly & currently incarcerated, trans people, undocumented workers, and others who are marginalized have long known what so many people are waking up to now...
yeah, we know this shit ain't right...)

the revolution is here
the revolution is now
it is, more than possible
movements
building
all over
the world

rising, rising, rising
out of the lies and false promises of capitalism
out of so-called free trade and free markets
out of corporate wutless'ness and greed
out of corporate controlled, puppet-like governments
out of the privatization of natural resources
out of environmental crisis and degradation
out of unemployment and debt
out of poverty
out of state violence
out of the prison industrial complex
out of gendered and trans violence
out of class exploitation
out of immigrant struggle
out of despair

out of hope
for something better
out of belief in each other
out of belief in community

our world torn and divided by so much
yet the complex unity of this 99%
experiencing various levels of inequity and injustice
lack of opportunities, seeing the hierarchies that bind us

raising our fists, hearts, and minds
together in a revolution hard to name
but one that was/is inevitable

talkin' bout a revolution
sounds like a whisper...
don't you know...
one day we gonna rise up
and take what's ours!

this is our time
this is our world
this is the most important thing

rising up in solidarity
to take back what is ours
to re-make our world

to re-create in our own image, thought, word
to re-invent, to re-start, to stay woke
people of color, yes!
let us / stay woke #together

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

summer of phoenix

2011-07-13T11:39:00.000-04:00

I've been off the radar again for the past few months... and too much has transpired to really "catch up" on my blog writing... too many juicy and important things to respond to and critique... and oh so much to share... And so I'm starting from summer and highlights of what's been going on in my world. I celebrated and brought in my 35th earthyear in June :) - feeling extra grown and sexy, cultivating beauty, goodness, healing, spirit, and love for this year and many more to come.

This summer brings transformation, radiant light, challenges, and new opportunities. I just moved from Connecticut after a two year visiting gig at UConn, and I am pleased and blessed to begin a new job - assistant professor of English at Susquehanna University in Selinsgrove, Pennsylvania! So I am in transition/limbo for the month of July - and I move into my new place and start my new job early August! And with all this fyah I'm burning bright and sharing my light with all those around me.

Spring was rough in all kinds of ways... but I have moved, grown, and pushed through it all - as one of my closest and best friends said to me today - like a Phoenix! I feel it too - emerging from the ashes of disappointment, difficult times, and rough spaces... feeling re-born in these times of major shifts in our planet and time on this earth. This year is serious for all of us - especially those of us who tap into the universe and our spiritual connections with each other and the earth. I have received so many blessings these past few months - deepened friendships and loveships, worked on and sustained many community projects, and with all of that - having the space to write, create, teach, and build. I am doing what I love to do in so many ways - and I continue to be grateful for my community, my chosen families, my ancestors who guide me, and all those who sustain and nurture me.

My work continues with Ayiti Resurrect - and I am actually on my way to Haiti this week for a ground work trip - preparing for our second delegation scheduled for January 2012. Check out the website for more info - and this link for an update on our fundraising efforts.

Ayiti Resurrect is a grassroots collective of visionary artists, holistic healers, and community builders with bloodlines in Haiti and the African Diaspora, working in collaboration with local Haitian organizations to help address the psychological, spiritual and emotional healing of the survivors of the January 12, 2010 earthquake. Our continued work and efforts to build sustainable programming in the community of Comier, Leogone is contingent upon raising enough funds. We are in the midst of major fundraising efforts. And so in the spirit of conscious vibration, I am asking for your support! Please donate and/or spread the word about our grassroots collective healing work! Donation page

My work with Caribbean IRN has been incredible and we have had an amazing spring into summer of important collaborations, presentations, webseminars, and events. We have established and been promoting our digital collection on the Digital Library of the Caribbean - and launched the Jamaica Gay Freedom Movement Archive in June. We hosted a historic event with Larry Chang and Thomas Glave based in Brooklyn and over the web with host sites in The Bahamas and Jamaica - Preserving our Stories: Caribbean LGBT Histories and Activism on June 21st. It was a beautiful diasporic event! And I was thrilled to include my people in the Bahamas for such an important conversation and exchange. I am working on a piece about this event, which will be featured in a prominent Caribbean journal at the end of summer. So more on that soon soon. Please check out the links above to see all the fantastic work and community building I have been fostering and dedicated to for over three years.

I am heading to Haiti today with my comrade in the struggle Naima. Please keep us in your prayers, thoughts, and meditations as we make this journey to build and organize for January 2012. And let us all hold ourselves (and each other) close this summer - during these months of transformation, blooming, and heat... Let us tap into all the extraordinary energies that are circulating and offering blessings and possibilities for growth and change. Let us keep looking up and letting the universe and the moon guide us.

Under an orange moon in North Carolina in mid June, I let go of so much - and by doing that, I found SPACE to breathe, release, and expand - spirited evolution and creative blossoms fueled by the elements - exfoliating in golden sand, bathing in greenish blue salty ocean, embracing full moon blessings, soaking in high tides, building with chosen family, and carving space to be who we are.

I Give Thanks.

Sharing Knowledge about Caribbean Sexualities

2011-04-28T14:17:00.000-04:00

As part of my work with the Caribbean Region of the IRN (International Resource Network), I have organized events and been working on several projects that bring together activists, artists, scholars, and writers who engage with the lives and concerns of sexual minorities in the region and in its diaspora. I have had the great opportunity to build with and support the amazing organizing happening in the region. And I have had the honor to help bring awareness to the complexity of our lives at home and abroad. I have the pleasure of being on the board of the Caribbean IRN since 2008, and I co-chair with my friend and colleague Rosamond King - and we are on the board with Colin Robinson and Natalie Bennett - and our coordination consultant is Vidyaratha Kissoon. This has been some of the most rewarding community work I have been a part of -- work that challenges the divide between academia and community, work that consistently challenges us in the diaspora to ground ourselves in the local/regional, work that reminds us of the common and different struggles we face as sexual minorities -- lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, questioning, queer, and all the names/unnames we give ourselves.

I wanted to spend some time on conscious vibration sharing two of the exciting projects we are in the process of building and bringing to fruition.

1) Open Source (free access) Digital Archive Collection with Digital Library of the Caribbean (dLOC) - in the past two years of collecting resources and sharing information among our networks, the Caribbean IRN has been building a general collection of information, reports, resources, data, creative, and scholarly work on issues related to diverse genders and sexualities in the Caribbean. We are also digitizing and preserving a beautiful collection of materials from the Gay Freedom Movement (GFM) in Jamaica (active from 1974-1983). The general collection is up and available for review on our page on the dLOC website. And the GFM Collection will be available sometime late June. We are also hosting an event to launch the GFM collection on July 21st that will be hosted in Brooklyn and also broadcast on the web with hubs in the region. I will post more details on this important event soon! In the meantime, PLEASE check out and spread the news about these important collections we are building on dLOC.

2) Theorizing Homophobia(s) in the Caribbean Project - articles, essays, non-fiction, fiction, stories, poetry, activist reports, visual art, music, interviews, and other works that will reflect on the complexities of homophobia(s) in the Caribbean and to expand awareness about Caribbean LGBT lives, experiences, and activism in the region and its diaspora. (Deadline for proposals is April 30th!!! - an abstract/description and a bio - see details below.)

Background for this project: During the first Caribbean Sexualities Gathering sponsored by the Caribbean IRN in June 2009, we brought together over 30 activists, scholars, and community workers from inside and outside the region. One of the issues raised during our workshop meeting was the need for a defining and re-defining of homophobia in the Caribbean from a variety of perspectives, and more specifically, the need for theorizing about the different kinds of homophobia(s) across the region. A year later, the Caribbean IRN facilitated a workshop on Strategies to Confront Homophobia at the annual Caribbean Studies Association conference. We expanded upon this issue by highlighting the realities of sexual minority organizing, offering possible sites and contexts for exploring this issue, and creating space for scholars, artists, writers, and activists to exchange.

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Call for Submissions

The Caribbean Region of the International Resource Network (IRN) seeks to connect academic and community-based researchers, artists, and activists around the Caribbean and in the diaspora in areas related to diverse sexualities and genders. The IRN is housed at the Center for Lesbian and Gay Studies at the City University of New York, funded through the Ford Foundation, and located on the web at http://www.irnweb.org.

Homophobia in the Caribbean has received a lot of given international attention recently. Certain Caribbean countries have been targeted by international organizations because of publicized violence committed against LGBT people and the apparent absence of public condemnation. However, the public and international human rights discourse that describes Caribbean homophobia rarely includes the larger contexts of poverty, structural adjustment, neocolonialism, and violence in general within the region. It has been accepted that homophobia in the Caribbean has its roots in laws, religion, and social perceptions of gendered identity. But LGBT activists and others living in the Caribbean have also recognised that there is a complex range of viewpoints and attitudes that must be accounted for in our defining of homophobia. Some scholars and activists have argued that what we need is a new set of theories, writings, and understandings of the kinds of homophobia(s) that exist across the region, and clear distinctions among Caribbean island-nations in terms of the work being done on the ground and the various cultural landscapes and shifts regarding LGBT identities. These theories, writings, and understandings should necessarily include discussions about gender performance, hetero-sexism, and transphobia that encompass homophobia(s), as well as the economic and social contexts mentioned above.

Questions we hope to address in this project include: How is homophobia perpetrated and experienced in different Caribbean communities? What have been the strategies for organizing against homophobia and homophobic violence? What are the successes and challenges in this work? What new strategies do we need? How is the Caribbean shifting in terms of tolerance and acceptance of diverse genders and sexualities? And why? How do we bridge the gap between theory and practice, home and abroad/diaspora, policies/law and cultural norms?

To that end, we propose a collection of articles, essays, non-fiction, fiction, stories, poetry, activist reports, visual art, music, interviews, and other works that will reflect on the complexities of homophobia(s) in the Caribbean and to expand awareness about Caribbean LGBT lives, experiences, and activism in the region and its diaspora. We seek to disrupt the divide between academia and community, while locating theories and knowledge in multiple sites and discourses.

This collection will be edited by the Caribbean IRN coordination consultant Vidyaratha Kissoon and its board members Natalie Bennett, Rosamond King, Angelique Nixon, and Colin Robinson.

Themes that may be addressed in the collection include:

Caribbean Sexual Minorities, Citizenship and the State (Island-Nation)
Religion and LGBT citizens in the Caribbean: Condemning the Sin or the Sinner
Contextualizing Caribbean Homophobia: Religion, Colonialism, Neocolonialism, Poverty, and/or Structural Violence
The Impact of Global LGBTQ Movements on Homophobia and LGBT activism in the Caribbean
The Language of Homophobia: Caribbean Nuances, Silences, & Stigmas
Politics of “coming out” and being publicly LGBT: concerning safety and visibility inside the Caribbean and its diaspora (Can we be safe and visible?)
Symptoms of Homophobia: violence within institutions and popular culture (ex. music specifically Dancehall as scapegoat, often seen as cause of violence itself, without nuance or discussion of other aspects of Caribbean culture, particularly outside the region - i.e. “murder music” campaign)
Costs of homophobia in the region: violence, gender-based violence, hyper-masculinity, heterosexism, transphobia, bi-phobia, lesbophobia, etc.
Caribbean LGBT anti-violence work, community organizing, and human rights discourse
Migration and Diaspora: Politics of Asylum Discourse inside and outside the Caribbean
Intersectional Analysis of Caribbean LGBT Violence (relationships among various kinds of violence - patriarchal violence, youth violence, child abuse, sexual abuse, LGBT violence, bullying, etc.)
(Emerging) Queer Caribbean Diaspora(s) and its relationship to home
Imported Homophobia: how non-Caribbean movements against homophobia are targeting the region

Works can be accepted in digital text format, digital audio (mp3 or OGG format), digital image format or digital video. Abstracts of no more than 500 words should be submitted in MS Word or Open Document Format by April 30th with a short bio of the authors/producers. For those submitting creative work (visual, literary, audio, etc,), please send a short description of the creative piece(s) you plan to submit along with a bio. If you have completed pieces, feel free to submit those on April 30th. Please submit proposals via email to caribbeanirn@gmail.com. If accepted for detailed review, the completed work will be due by July 1st and it will be shared/published through our Internet platform in the Fall 2011. Eventually, we plan to approach a journal and/or publisher for a print publication.

IMPORTANT NOTE: We would like to represent as much of the region as possible. We acknowledge the limitations in asking for proposals in English, yet we seek to be inclusive and representative. While the primary language for the collection will be English, we plan to translate the collection into Spanish, Dutch, and French. And we are specifically looking not only for pieces that engage the English speaking Caribbean, but also the Spanish, Dutch, and French speaking. To that end, we are accepting proposal is these languages. Also, we are working on translating this call for submissions into Spanish, French, and Dutch, and we are looking for translators for the final submissions.

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Please share & spread the word!

with peace, light & conscious vibes!

-Angelique

Defining Earth Democracy & Rights of Mother Earth

2011-04-22T14:16:00.000-04:00

Blessings & Healing Vibrations for Earth Day! While so many of us celebrate the earth everyday and live our lives in ways that are sustainable and green, this day should still serve as a collective reminder of how much work there is to do. Given the urgency of this struggle to save the planet (quite literally) from human-made destruction, we must do whatever we can to spread awareness, raise consciousness, and hold leaders accountable. People of color around the world and countries most affected from environmental degradation in the Global South have already taken the lead in these movements for environmental justice.

Democracy Now took time today to reflect on these very issues:

As the world celebrates Earth Day, Bolivia is about to pass the world’s first law that grants nature equal rights with humans. The Bolivian delegation to the United Nations urged the global body to adopt a similar law during this week’s Harmony with Nature conference. This week also marks the one-year anniversary of the BP oil spill; next week, the 25th anniversary of the Chernobyl disaster. Radiation levels around the Fukushima nuclear plant in Japan remain high. As these disasters multiply, Latin American countries such as Bolivia have taken the lead in adopting measures to protect the environment. Ecuador has also adopted a resolution protecting nature.

We speak with two renowned environmental justice activists: Maude Barlow and Vandana Shiva. Maude Barlow is the head of the Council of Canadians, Canada’s largest public advocacy organization. Barlow is also co-founder of the Blue Planet Project and chair of the board of Food and Water Watch. Vandana Shiva, world-renowned environmental leader, feminist and thinker from India, is the author of many books, including Earth Democracy: Justice, Sustainability, and Peace and Staying Alive: Women, Ecology, and Development.

Earth Day Special: Vandana Shiva and Maude Barlow on the Rights of Mother Earth

Let's take time to reflect on the work of these amazing women - and honor them and the earth. Let us think about what it means to define the rights of the Earth and what it would really mean to protect these rights or what we can call Earth Democracy. In this interview, Amy Goodman asks Vandana Shiva what "earth democracy" means, and she defines it this way:

For me, earth democracy means, first, recognizing the fundamental fact that we are part of nature, that human rights and nature’s rights are not separate, because we are just one strand in this amazing mystery and miracle that the earth has created in terms of life. But earth democracy also means democracy in the everyday life of people, exercised daily by ordinary people, not the once in a five-year or four-year election, because everywhere around the world, we are seeing, you can bring someone to power, and they don’t represent your will anymore.

So, democracy under corporate control has mutated from "of the people, by the people, for the people" into "of the corporations, by the corporations, for the corporations." In this country, I watched how Wisconsin suddenly became a playground for destruction of democracy and destruction of the fundamental rights of collective bargaining and public services and public domain, only because there is this corporate pressure on privatizing everything and preventing people from exercising their democratic rights.
So, it’s the democratic rights of the people and the earth versus the fictitious corporate rights that corporations have assigned to themselves, and now they’re costing the earth and people too much. They’re bringing nothing in return. It used to be the case that when General Motors put out a car, it gave employment. It even gave salaries so people could buy that car. Today, the corporations give nothing back to society. They just take from nature, take from society, and want to rubbish this planet and rubbish our lives. And I think people are getting fed up. The entire rising in the Arabic world is part of that fed-upness.

"after winter... must come spring"

2011-04-14T12:36:00.000-04:00

My heart is heavy as I write on my blog for the first time in months... I've been on a blog hiatus... overwhelmed with teaching, writing, deadlines, community work, and everything in between. Since December, it has has been ridiculously hectic for me - and the time has flown by, as it does... and we are now deep into the double ones (yes that's 2011 :) and there is so much to say... so much to share... and even more importantly so much to do.

(I started writing this on April 1st... and just finished it today...)

I've been immersed in the news of revolutions and resistance across North Africa and the Middle East since December. I've been devastated over the tsunami and earthquake in Japan... and the nuclear fallout... So much so that I haven't been able to write about it... only posting news articles on facebook. As I continue to send prayers and healing thoughts to the people of Japan, I am astonished at what is happening... and how quickly this disaster has faded from mainstream news. I consider the differences between Japan and Haiti: clearly there are major differences - they are after all on completely opposite ends of the political and economic spectrum. Nevertheless, both places have been suffered unspeakable loss and pain... yet they are discussed and represented differently. We should ask ourselves why. Why do we use differences to place value and moral judgments? What is at the root of these differing representations and why?

I am thinking about the number of news/opinion pieces on "Why the Japanese don't loot" with comparisons to Haiti and New Orleans. I am thinking about the paternalistic attention / relationship to Haiti in the United States. Perhaps it is what Elizabeth Alexander discusses as "the Black body in pain" being a symbol of both racial conflict and American unity. One could argue that U.S. media is obsessed with the Black body in pain - as it is captivated with the "morality" and culture of Japan. These dichotomies are nevertheless grounded in new forms of racism that still serve white supremacy.

I feel and hear the pain and loss of our Japanese brothers and sisters... entire communities of people who have lost everything... who churned through dust, rubble, and radiated air to find loved ones... who must be trying to make sense of all this loss and the fears of another nuclear catastrophe... who wait to identify bodies... who must fear the mass graves just as our Haitian brothers and sisters did and continue to suffer through the anguish of not being able to properly honor their dead.

I don't want to have a conversation about why Japanese people aren't looting... so that mass media can perpetuate racial stereotypes of model minorities versus looting Black folks... I don't want to hear the blame conveniently placed on Japanese plants who were somehow supposed to be prepared for a massive earthquake of deadly proportions. I don't... and I can't... (Indeed, there are cultural differences which can account for different responses to disaster, but these exist within larger structural and economic forces and frameworks.)

divide and conquer still

proliferation of war at the expense of life in the guise of peace

the earth speaking and we turn our backs on her
ignore her, pretend that these catastrophes are natural or unrelated
as she tells us through tremors and waves, heat and ice,
dead dolphins on beaches, birds falling from the sky,
radiation spilling into air, water, and living cells,
that she is tired

She speaks through our bodies and the land on which we live
She tells us to listen and rise up with the movements & struggles
coursing through her deserts, hills, cities, and oceans

How will we live through these changes?
How can we create a better, livable future?
How do we build community with less and less resources?
How do we take back our lives from corporate interests and war machines?

These are the questions that occupy my consciousness as I keep my ears and heart to the ground. I honor those deep in the struggle and fighting for their very lives. I am humbled to be a witness & warrior.

Revolutions & Uprisings
Tunisia, Egypt, Algeria, Bahrain, Libya, Syria, Iran
Wars in Iraq, Afghanistan, Palestine, Cote d'Ivoire

Labor Protests & Attacks on Workers Rights & Women's Rights
United States - Wisconsin, Ohio, Florida, Indiana, Kansas
(Un)natural disasters in Haiti, Chile, Japan

I hold space
prayers, blessings, light
in these dark troubling times

"change will come eventually"

(I'm back from my hiatus... more reflections soon come on conscious vibration...)

HAITI IN:SIGHT - A Soulful Benefit for Healing in Haiti - Dec 11th NYC

2010-11-28T19:44:00.000-05:00

Here is what I've been up to: hard at work on co-producing and co-organizing a beautiful benefit for healing work in Haiti. I'm blessed to be working with some of the most amazing people on this project and planning the benefit. For all my NY peeps - get your tickets ASAP here: https://www.wepay.com/tickets/view/1298. We have an extraordinary evening planned - multimedia performances, live music, spoken word, live art, silent auction of our featured visual artists, and dancing - while bringing our awareness and attention back to Haiti in time for the January anniversary of the earthquake. We will also be highlighting the work of our partners on the ground in Haiti with recorded audio and visual updates. I will also be featuring a prose poem about my time in Haiti giving some context for this unnatural disaster and what has happened post-quake. I am so thankful for my main partners in the planning of this event - especially Donna, Naima, and Beatrice - grateful for them and our growth in this process.

For all my peeps not in New York, you can still support this work by making an offering on our donation page through wepay: https://www.wepay.com/public/view/15171. And for more info about the project itself, check out the Ayiti Resurrect website.

Here are all the details (flier designed by Naima Penniman):

Brief Description of the Work:

Ayiti Resurrect and Ayiti Cherie Healing Project have a shared vision to facilitate

psychological & spiritual healing for Haiti's quake-survivors based on principles
of solidarity, creativity, and collective resilience. Recognizing mental heath as a
human right, we are organizing to travel to Haiti as a grassroots delegation of visionary
artists, community builders, mental health specialists, and holistic healers with

bloodlines in the Caribbean and African Diaspora. In collaboration with

local organizations and individuals, Ayiti Resurrect and Ayiti Cherie

delegates will create a sanctuary in Leogane for trauma recovery through cultural
activities and creative expression, grassroots organizing and community building,
skill-sharing and trainings, and mental wellness and stress relief workshops.

"never again"

2010-11-20T15:06:00.000-05:00

This is the first poem I wrote about my mother... a year after she passed away (in 1996)... it took me years to finish it... and it marks for me the beginning of my journey as a poet... It was accepted for publication by WomanSpeak (Caribbean Women's Journal of Writing & Art published in The Bahamas) - and the issue has finally been published after years of hard work!!! Congrats to WomanSpeak Issue 5 2010 and the editor Lynn Sweeting for a beautiful journal!!! I just got my copy and wanted to share this now published piece on conscious vibration.

**************************************************

never again

Angelique V. Nixon

once I felt ashamed of being my mother’s daughter

but I am not her, and what I have from her is all I needed.

I let all the other things about her I dare not say,

go far away, as her spirit seeks rest and hunts for peace.

once I felt ashamed of being a woman,

because I saw the woman my mother was,

she was all that I did not want to be,

I ran from her and the person she revealed to me.

so ashamed

living over da hill, filling empty stomachs with stories on walks to the well,

draping worn sheets over broken windows,

growing into the teenager who lied about these things.

so scared

the boyfriend who beat our windows and her,

mood swings tested my faith in her words and god,

rat bat nights into endless rows making gramma vex.

so angry

leaving me long before

she died, hiding the bruises,

her distance grew wider with each inch I grew taller.

resentment soaks through the girl child who has seen too much,

distrust settles hearing another broken promise,

the walls grow wet and porous

like sand castles at dusk, in between knowing and fear.

watching my mother waste away, tore at my walls,

the last time I saw her—recognition meandered in her vacant eyes

and the wonder if she really knew it was me, hung in the air,

this puzzle sticks like a hungry potcake following me home.

memories remain opaque, held in vaults of shame,

locked away, until I broke through,

outside the perceived, in troubled shadows,

I found place, a space to breathe.

now, I feel myself (me) being a woman,

being the woman my mother wanted me to be,

strong like saltwater, defiant like moon tides,

independent like the sun, cool like summer rain.

and now, no matter my wish to save her,

I am never ashamed.

***************************************

Haiti, the earthquake, & environmental justice

2010-11-06T19:32:00.000-04:00

I've taken a long break from my blog... too long... since my last posting, I've had a whirlwind of fall deadlines and intense teaching and community work. I also went to Haiti in August - doing groundwork and building for a healing project (Ayiti Resurrect) that I am helping to organize with a team of artists, healers, and community workers. As soon as I got back, my fall semester of teaching and other commitments began. The months have flown by and it seems there is less and less time for my creative writing. Nevertheless I remain dedicated to my craft even as I spend most of my writing time in an academic / teaching / focusing on scholarly book project space. But I bring my creative into the academic.

I was invited to speak at a symposium on Black Environmental Thought and the Future of African American Studies at Indiana University Bloomington in October - specifically because of my work in the Caribbean and to bring a Diasporic perspective into the conversation. And as I prepared for that in September, I decided to focus on Haiti for my presentation - titled "Exiles in Paradise: Towards a Green Caribbean Future" - particularly because of my trip and the fact that Haiti has severe environmental degradation created and exacerbated through neocolonialism. I wanted to compare this to the tourism destinations of the region like Jamaica - to discuss how the environment suffers in the name of so-called development at each end of the paradise spectrum (i.e. represented from 'heavenly' to 'dangerous'). I wrote bits and pieces of poetry and prose while I was in Haiti and I ended up using that to begin my reflections.

I decided to share this today on my blog as I read reports about Hurricane Tomas bringing rain into Leogone and the fears that flooding will make the recent cholera epidemic worse... all this on top of the catastrophe still happening post earthquake... all this within the same context of human-made disaster(s).

***

Work in Progress: "Exiles in Paradise"

I made a promise to the stars

under a night sky in Ayiti

That I would remember

what it looks like to be an exile in your own country

what it must feel like to be excised from citizenship

what struggle sounds like

what survival is

and the cost of producing/being paradise for everyone but yourself

in this land of revolutionary dreams and broken results

I made a promise to bear witness

Under an August full moon after dusk, I walked through the largest tent camp in Croix De Bouquet and made this promise (where over 10,000 people are living - displaced because of the earthquake – relocated from other tent camps in Port Au Prince damaged by rain and wind, from one set of temporary housing to another). Over 1 million people in Haiti remain displaced and living in temporary shelters or tents – nine months later.

I was humbled by the strength and resilience of my Haitian sisters and brothers – who have created living spaces out of tents, gravel, sheets, tarp, wood, and metal. All across Port Au Prince into Leogone (the hardest hit area), I saw Haitian people making do with what they could – bringing depth and new meanings to the tenants of environmentalism – reduce, reuse, and recycle.

I traveled to Haiti as part of a grassroots collective and organizing team in order to initiate a healing project that we plan to facilitate with Haitian partners on the ground. We went there to learn, ask questions, and build relationships with specific communities through the principles of solidarity, creativity, and collective resilience.

Post-earthquake... everything has changed – I heard this over and over again... in the context of this “natural disaster”... But there is nothing natural about what happened in Haiti after the earthquake. A country already devastated socially, politically, economically, and environmentally through slavery, colonialism, debt for so-called independence, new imperial powers enacted through occupations, guns, free trade zones, medical testing, transnational manufacturing and textile plants, and the devastation and inequities produced by globalization.

There is nothing natural about poverty and unemployment produced under the choking hold of neocolonialism, IMF and World Bank debt, and structural adjustment.

There is nothing natural about “peace-keeping troops” that occupy military style... preventing growth while supporting the elite, dictatorships, and coups.

There is nothing natural about mass deforestation... and the soil erosion and land degradation that happens after forests are stripped because people have so few choices – forced to sell and use natural resources faster than the land can handle... nothing natural about the lack of trees and roots to suck up water in the rainy and hurricane seasons that bring mudslides and massive flooding.

Nothing natural about small farmers moving from the countryside into crowded cities because there is no room for their crops in market places where they are cut out… in so called free trade.

Nothing natural about families who cannot feed their children... nothing natural about the accumulation of debt at the expense of life… in a global economy that values profit over human need.

There is nothing natural about lack of infrastructure and poorly constructed buildings put up too quickly in the name of progress and modernization.

There is nothing natural about the aftermath of the earthquake in Haiti - mass graves, bodies still under rubble, tent cities with no protection for women and children – who are the most vulnerable in these moments of crisis – and the lack of social services in a country whose government depended on too many NGOs to provide for its people...

And so people will do what they must in order to survive... what I saw in Haiti was resilience and resourcefulness. I saw an entirely new level of what it means to Recycle Out of Need... re-cycling through re-using what you have, creating new things out of old. This is a part of life in the Global South – especially for poor and working class people. Recycling, re-using and reducing are part of the daily fabric of living. This is a different relationship with one's environment. The Global South is currently demonized for its pollution production and lack of environmental policies, but rarely do we consider how the Global South has been toxic waste dump for the Global North while also finding new and innovative ways to recycle and reuse what is thrown out in the Global North and by upper-class and elite located in the Global South. And Haiti – along with other countries in the Caribbean have long endured the environmental degradation and injustices created through unsustainable development.

***

prayers and blessings for Ayiti

Restorying & Imagining in The Bahamas

2010-08-11T03:48:00.000-04:00

31 July 2010 || Nassau, The Bahamas

I spent most of July at home in The Bahamas teaching for BWSI's second year (Bahamas Writers Summer Institute) - which is a Caribbean-centered creative writing program - founded by Bahamian writers Marion Bethel and Helen Klonaris. I have been honored to be a part of the BWSI faculty for the past two years. It was an incredibly rich and moving experience to teach, read, and reason with fellow Bahamian writers. I taught a course on Caribbean Literature titled The Caribbean Literary Imagination. We delved into Caribbean history and culture, the intersections among race, gender, class, and sexuality, and how we define the Bahamian literary imagination within the larger Caribbean. The theme this year was "Restorying the Bahamian Imaginal Landscape" - and in addition to seminars and workshops for participants, BWSI also hosted the Writers in Community Series which included readings and panel discussions open to the public.

I was on the panel titled "Writing from Away" with Helen Klonaris, Ian Strachan, Maria Govan, and Nakia Pearson moderated by Marion Bethel. We each read some of our work and then had a conversation about writing abroad. It was an intense and heated discussion about the politics of home and feelings of exile while having and sustaining a deep commitment to home. Each of us defined home and what it meant to leave and return - some of us on the panel are still away and some have returned - and what it means to write both at home and away. I have been long fascinated with how Caribbean writers engage with home while being abroad. There are so many variant degrees of longing and desire for home represented in the works of our most beloved and famous writers across the region. How we imagine and define home helps us to define ourselves no matter how long we have lived away or whether we return or not. And through the various and at times difficult relations to home (from George Lamming in Pleasures of Exile to Michelle Cliff in If I Could Write This In Fire), it is clear - home is always in our blood, in our pens, and in our hearts & minds. I struggle with this often - my relationship to home... but no matter the years that go by... I remain a migrant soul deeply connected to home in all ways... I continue to define and make home(s) & homespaces wherever I live... but yet & still - home for me is always The Bahamas. I take my roots with me and lay them down through my words, my work, my light.

I believe that we must build and nurture community wherever we live. And as a writer and community worker, I also believe in sustaining rootedness to/through/in home. For me, this has meant returning home to visit and spend time as often as possible. It has also meant for me - writing about home, keeping connected and finding ways to do work on the ground in spite of the distance. This is why BWSI has been such an important experience for me. And I look forward to many more years and being a part of all the growth that will surely happen with BWSI.

We ended the BWSI's Writers in Community Series with a conversation about "The Shape of Things to Come" and it was an important way to wrap up the series. I moderated this panel which included Marion Bethel, Lelawattee Manoo-Rahming, Obediah Smith, Philip Armbrister, Thea Rutherford, and Travolta Cooper. I asked each of the writers in their introductions to say briefly what they saw as "the shape of things to come" - and each offered provocative and insightful comments about the future of Bahamian writing. We discussed at length the state of Bahamian literature and culture, the potential and rise of Bahamian film in terms of culture, and how to fuel and sustain the Bahamian imagination. Manoo-Rahming said that we must think about "the thing we are going to shape" - that is the question - "what is the thing?" - and we all exhaled and pondered her deep question. Rutherford said that since so many of us don't learn about our Bahamian cultural producers, we must start there --educating ourselves and the youth about all that we did not know about ourselves and our history.

Caribbean writers and intellectuals have long said this in many different ways--from Marcus Garvey's famous quote about roots to Erna Brodber's re-writing of history to understand the present in order to create a better future. These all resonate with the West African Adinkra symbol - Sankofa - which means in order to move forward you must know your past. M. Nourbese Philip says that since as we have lost our history and our word that we must take control of creating our own images and words. Therefore, our writing must not only be decolonized but also create annd re-create our histories/herstories. We must be in a constant battle to take back our imaginations and use them to inspire and sustain our subjectivity. Searching, defining, building... the thing.

In the meantime, I'm working on restorying and imagining from far far away... still dreaming of home--summer fruit, the ocean, moonlight nights, sunsets, and time with my people.

"Libation"

2010-07-15T18:12:00.000-04:00

Here is a poem I wrote & worked on in the spring time... and now I'm ready to share on conscious vibration. This poem is inspired by one of the hottest dance parties in NYC - Libation at The Sullivan Room - along with the magic of affirming a growing relationship. As it so happens in writing poetry - the poem took on a life of its own - led by the moon and the goddess Erzuli (loa of beauty & love, sometimes described as the female energy of Legba in the Vodoun Pantheon, and understood to be of Dahomean in origin, although some scholars trace her contemporary description/worship securely in the Caribbean).

I begin with a quote from Audre Lorde - one of her last interviews - where she defines Blackness as an approach - "a way of taking in the world" - this has long been on my mind... really thinking about what this means. And so I decided to use this as the epigraph of my poem after I wrote & revised it because it captures the essence of what I wanted to conjure.

I would love to get feedback and comments!

***

Libation

by Angelique V. Nixon

“Blackness is an approach, a way of taking in the world”
~Audre Lorde

Cocoa butter sweat on my neck

enraptured fingertips carry spirits

tracing ice water down your lower back

I see extraordinary pathways

radiant hues of gold & green light float between us

bursting flames like healing aloe plants rise

I am flying with

tendrils of charged air

soaring under me.

I remember you conjuring with an island moon

she is heavy with earth’s magic & revival

a new year’s promise

to catch this freak rhythm

grown sexy intellectual vibe

just in time

for libation.

Cocoa butter sweat on my fingertips

led by the soul drum & pull of the bass line

I take your hands in mine

we rise to an explosive rain

current of memory

I trace each movement in your thighs

succulent heat spilling from pores

ice cubes & water vapor dance

between our lips.

I am flying with spirits of warrior women

they glide around my hips

moving me into your fyah

each kiss feels like saltwater healing

the goddess Erzuli whispers to me

it is time & she is grace

make an offering.

Tongues ablaze in tune with mystic

sacred shoulders rock beats in circles
exquisite female energies of color

who speak through a canopy of touch

dancing bodies worship & let go

I feel time as it slows

pulses beneath skin

a groove in rebellious sync

with this afro-beat & house love of soul.

I surrender to you

with intention

for balance & goodness

sweet like sapodilla in summer

nourishing like callaloo & rum

refreshing as a sea bath under the full moon

here in this fyah

we can be reborn

we rise.

Environmental Racism & Oil

2010-06-30T20:03:00.000-04:00

The BP Oil deep water Rupture/Spill in the Gulf of Mexico has dominated the news media for the past two months - rightfully so... this is an environmental catastrophe that will affect us all for years to come. It's almost too much... thinking about the thousands of barrels of oil gushing out of the ocean... and the ridiculous mess BP has made of their supposed clean-up efforts. It is bewildering to see how much power multi-national oil companies have... to see how difficult it is to hold them accountable.

Democracy Now has done an amazing job as usual to get at the heart of the issue - highlighting the communities who are most affected by this oil spill and spreading awareness about the class and race dynamics at work. The June 7th show on how the oil spill is affecting indigenous communities in Louisiana broke down the similarities between this oil spill and the Exxon-Valdez spill in Alaska over 22 years ago. The interviewees critiqued the corporate control of resources/land and the poor management and disastrous attempts at clean up.

A more recent show - June 16th - engaged a roundtable of guests - (Monique Harden, New Orleans attorney and co-director of Advocates for Environmental Human Rights; Amory Lovins, co-founder, chairman and chief scientist of Rocky Mountain Institute in Colorado; Michael Brune, executive director of The Sierra Club) - in order to discuss the BP Oil Spill and the future of green energy in the United States. Monique Harden raised important concerns about how often environmental injustice occurs in poor communities of color, with a focus on how African American communities in New Orleans & other communities in the gulf are affected by the oil spill, offshore drilling generally, and toxic production. The major discussion of the roundtable included ways we can work towards a future of green energy.

Meanwhile - across the Atlantic - in the Niger Delta - communities there have been dealing with oil spills, exploitation by multinational oil giants Shell & Chevron, human rights violations, and so much more... for decades.... Democracy Now has also covered these atrocities over the past ten years - check out their page of stories: "The True Cost of Oil" - and just last year, Shell paid out $15.5 million dollars in settlement rather than go to trial for human rights violations in the Niger Delta (The case was brought on behalf of ten plaintiffs who accused Shell of complicity in the 1995 executions of Nigerian writer and environmentalist Ken Saro-Wiwa and eight others.)

Here is the entire show covering the settlement - June 9, 2009:

Also, for more info about the trial - and the documentary "Drilling and Killing: Chevron & Nigeria's Oil Dictatorship" - here is a link to the October 28, 2008 show.

The stories and environmental disasters in the Global South never get the attention they deserve - we know this and we know why. A recent article in The Observer - Guardian UK points out this very disturbing fact and discusses the Niger Delta's many environmental catastrophes - "Nigeria's agony dwarfs the Gulf oil spill. The US & Europe ignore it" - by John Vidal - published 30 May 2010.

The most recent news from the Niger Delta as reported in this article:

On 1 May this year a ruptured ExxonMobil pipeline in the state of Akwa Ibom spilled more than a million gallons into the delta over seven days before the leak was stopped. Local people demonstrated against the company but say they were attacked by security guards. Community leaders are now demanding $1bn in compensation for the illness and loss of livelihood they suffered. Few expect they will succeed. In the meantime, thick balls of tar are being washed up along the coast. ...

With 606 oilfields, the Niger delta supplies 40% of all the crude the United States imports and is the world capital of oil pollution. Life expectancy in its rural communities, half of which have no access to clean water, has fallen to little more than 40 years over the past two generations. Locals blame the oil that pollutes their land and can scarcely believe the contrast with the steps taken by BP and the US government to try to stop the Gulf oil leak and to protect the Louisiana shoreline from pollution. "If this Gulf accident had happened in Nigeria, neither the government nor the company would have paid much attention," said the writer Ben Ikari, a member of the Ogoni people. "This kind of spill happens all the time in the delta."

This latest spill in the delta happened only two months ago - and it got little to no media attention... sadly this is the state of affairs - everyday for the communities living in the Niger Delta. And since this article, other news reports are surfacing -- as some journalists report on other oil exploitations happening around the world. (Check out the recent article about oil exploration - also published in The Observer, "Anger grows across the world at the real price of 'frontier' oil" on 20 June 2010.)

On May 28th 2010, Democracy Now covered the Chevron Annual Shareholders meeting - where five activists were arrested and barred entry from the meeting. They interviewed Emem Okon, an activist from Nigeria and the founder and executive director of Kebetkache Women Development and Resource Center in the Niger Delta, who explained why she came to the meeting in protest:

I came to tell Chevron that they have oppressed in the Niger Delta region with impunity for the past fifty years, poisoning our waters, devastating our environment, killing the fish we eat, burning poison gas through gas flares in the Niger Delta that has caused cancer, asthma, corroding our roofs. And they have not done anything to alleviate the sufferings of the people as a result of their activities. And what they did on Wednesday was a demonstration of the fact that they are not ready to change their mode of oppression in the Niger Delta region, and they are not ready to recognize and respect the human rights of the people, and they are not ready to change the inhumane way they treat the communities in which they oppress. I am surprised at the attention that the BP oil spill has attracted in the United States, and I expect that the condition in the Niger Delta should attract the same coverage and that the international community should impress it on Chevron and every other oil community to stop their inhuman activity and abuse of human rights in the Niger Delta region.

Emem Okon's description of the environmental injustice long happening in the Niger Delta resonates so clearly within the silences of neocolonial exploitation - still so prevalent in the Global South - all in the name of "progress" and capitalism. We must unearth these silences.

And so as we raise awareness about what is happening in the Gulf of Mexico... as we think about how to create green energy for the future... as we keep ourselves in the know about cleanup efforts... as we agitate & organize to create change and hold BP accountable... LET US ALSO think about the Niger Delta and all the other communities in the Global South affected by environmental catastrophes and exploitation by multinational corporations who care more about money than people. Let us spread our knowledge and find out about what communities and grassroots organizations are doing to create change (ex. check out the Chevron Campaign led by Global Exchange). Let us all think seriously about a green future and ensure that people of color and communities most affected by climate change and environmental racism and injustice are leading this future.

Meditations on Tourism, Sexuality & Violence

2010-06-17T15:48:00.000-04:00

The months are flying by... summer is here :) May brought me many blessings and travels - which is why I haven't written on my blog... sadly... BUT I'm working this month on getting it together... and so I now report on my goings on - May was hectic with preparing for the Caribbean Studies Association conference - held last week of May in Barbados. The conference was intense, productive, and at times really hard. The theme was on the everyday occurrence of violence in the Caribbean - and given the violence in Jamaica that began at the same time - the panels and discussions had an even more urgent tone. The conversations were heated and important... yet nothing could stop the pain so many of us felt - the helplessness... all some could do was share news, dispel un-truths/mis-perceptions, and offer another perspective to what was/is happening in Tivoli Gardens.

I appreciated those who spoke up about dispossession and feelings of alienation that many in Tivoli feel - specifically the class dynamics that many want to ignore. This all made me think deeply about class violence and the violence of poverty - and how a community can be so easily excised from citizenship and political representation. And even within the conversations about the Tivoli community - what was/is left out - the silences about everyday class-based racial violence, the violence enacted through language and discourse, and issues of gender and sexuality that are silenced in the name of other fights and causes. I believe even more now in what Franz Fanon told us so many years ago - that the process of decolonization will necessarily be a violent one - because slavery and colonialism were so very violent. We are still in this struggle.

All these conversations about violence made me think about the space on which the conference was hosted - at an all inclusive resort - Almond Beach - which is on the site of a former sugar plantation. This fact is described in the hotel advertisements as something positive. And as we Caribbean academics, writers, scholars, teachers, artists, and activists all descended upon this site, I couldn't help but wonder over and over again throughout the week as the conference progressed - what did this "site" do to us spiritually... My friend and colleague who I roomed with at the hotel expressed his discomfort and anxiety with the space repeatedly - especially as we walked by the old sugar mill - where (straight) people get married... it was disturbing and yet it was strangely familiar to me because so many hotels across the region are located on such sites or at the very least use colonial images and rhetoric. It was surreal though - the site, the "village" theme of the hotel, and the stoic looks of hotel workers. I am so familiar with such sites, themes, and looks - being from and raised in The Bahamas - and a former worker in the tourist industry - I know all these far too well. Therefore, it was both comfortable and disturbing for me even as I enjoyed my time, the work, and the beach. I was constantly reminded of the history, our history, the price we pay, and our lack of choices within the double bind of tourism. I've been doing scholarly research and writing on tourism for a while and even with all of my critiques and personal experience, it remains very difficult to challenge tourism - because tourism itself is a form of violence. We live, work, eat, smell, and breathe tourism, which is sustained through the violence of slavery and colonialism. And yet and still... it is our livelihood... It is our bread and butter... It is how we live and don't live. It is how we can move and not move... travel and not travel...

I took this picture of the eerie sugar mill - haunted still by the blood and sweat of our ancestors - to remind me of how I felt walking by this sugar mill every morning and evening on the Almond Beach / sugar plantation / hotel resort. Inside there is a wedding arch... the tragic irony of it all... This picture tells a different story though... The moon grew full while I was there - and a huge gray'ish purple circle around the moon emerged on the night of the full moon, a kind of halo... Perhaps the moon spoke through this circle... I was obsessed with the moon and took many pictures with my digital camera - trying to capture my melancholy about the space even as I took in the moon's magic and the ocean's energizing spirit.

The conference was also challenging on another level - within the panels and discussions about sexuality - and the participation by openly LGBTQ / sexual minority Caribbeans. We represented in personal, political, and academic terms. We challenged the hetero-normative and hetero-sexist dynamics of the conference space... but of course there is more work to be done. I co-facilitated a Caribbean IRN workshop on Caribbean Sexualities and strategies to confront homophobia (& we continued our IRN work from the last CSA conference and the first Caribbean Sexualities Gathering in Kingston last June). This year, I presented on some ways to address and theorize about "homophobia(s)" in the region. I also talked about how we need to build coalitions and new languages and praxis. My co-facilitators presented on specific forms of activism and politics inside and outside the region, anti-violence work, current campaigns, and networking. We had excellent conversations and exchange about ideas and future work. We deliberated on the need for language that includes trans-phobia and addresses gender performance. We discussed the work of a Sexualities Working Group within CSA (which is now officially established)- and how to sustain Caribbean Sexuality Studies. We connected and networked about activism in the region. We forged new alliances and possibilities for collaborations. But we were too ambitious with the time we had... so we didn't get to everything... nevertheless it was a good workshop - productive and energetic. And I feel renewed to do the work and keep our projects going. But more on that later.

My meditations on tourism and violence during the conference have pushed me to make stronger and more explicit connections in my work about sexual and cultural identities. I am thinking more and more about my idea of "resisting paradise" and how this resonates deeply with anti-violence work broadly and within sexual minority activism inside & outside the region. I return to Audre Lorde over and over again - and her argument that we can not fight one form of violence without addressing all forms of violence.

catch up time

2010-04-30T20:40:00.000-04:00

The past few months have flown by... winter blues into the promise of spring... I've been immersed in teaching and organizing... too busy for words... The devastation in Haiti and my work with Haitian-Bahamian Solidarity has occupied much of my mental space and writing time outside of teaching. All worth it and necessary.

So many things have happened. So many things to write about and to engage with... that I've been at a loss for words. Writing has been hard for me lately. Not sure why. I've been on a long hiatus from my blog writing... and its been rough... I've missed this space... and I have started a few different pieces but never got the chance or made the time to finish them... and so I need to play catch up... need to reconnect with my public writing space.

I've had a number of really successful ventures, readings, events, and such - particularly in March. I went home for a much needed, over-due visit with my fam/friends. At the same time, I was fortunate to be featured in a cross-disciplinary exhibition at The Hub - called "A Sudden & Violent Change" - which paired 10 literary and 10 visual artists in a project dedicated to envisioning change - as part of the Annual Transforming Spaces Art Tour in Nassau. My two sister poems on Haiti, migration, and Haitian Bahamians ("Unrest" & "Sip n' Talk") were featured, and the Haitian-Bahamian visual artist Jackson Petit responded to them. He created the a brilliant video response to my poems using water, his body, and other elements. It was truly inspiring to see what my poetry evoked from Jackson. And I was honored to have our work on exhibit together. I attended the opening and got to experience people's engagement with the work. The entire exhibit was powerful, unique, and really moving. A number of writers engaged with Haiti in the context of The Bahamas. It was groundbreaking in many ways. A book from the exhibit with the artwork and the literary work was published by Poinciana Press. Here are a couple photos from the opening night. The second photo includes a shot of Jackson's video stills titled "San" 1 min 14 sec.

Also in March, I had the great fortune of opening for Martin Espada at University of Connecticut for an event called "Political Poetics: Contemplating Kazi Islam Nazrul’s Legacy" - to contextualize the socially conscious and politically active work of the late Rebel Poet Nazrul for the annual lecture held at UConn. This was incredible - and such an honor to share the stage with the brilliant poet Espada - whose work continues to inspire me. All of this sharing of my work has made me focused on revision and really engaging with performance. I also organized an event for NYU's Africana Studies - the final part of a 3 part series on Race, Identity, and Blackness in the U.S. - titled "Tangled Origins" - which included both conversation and performance. I worked really hard to make sure this event vexed the boundaries of academic and my vision was set to trouble the division between the academic and the creative. The event was a success - with a really productive conversation and exchange among writers, musicians, activists, teachers, scholars, and poets. It was really beautiful. And I plan to keep doing this work.

There is more to share and more to say. I just got back from the Association of Caribbean Women Writers and Scholars Conference - in Baton Rouge, where I did a performance panel with two friends/colleagues. And this was my first time doing a performance piece in a group. It was called "Points of Encounter: The Body as Text in Caribbean Women's Performance Art" - and it was something very new for the conference itself - and new for me in many ways. I feel as if I'm certainly building and forging a space for myself in between all the spaces in which I exist. But more on that later...

In the mean time, I'm back on my conscious vibration writing! Summer soon come!

Supporting Haiti: Relief Aid & Migration Rights

2010-01-25T15:02:00.000-05:00

It's been too many days and relief efforts in Haiti seem beyond slow and not enough. The global community has responded, people have donated / are still donating money, organizations are rallying for more and more support, aid is pouring into the airport, yet the people of Haiti are still suffering and dying... A number of journalists have written about the slow movement of relief aid, the frustration of Haitian people on the ground, and the militarization of aid. Friday's Democracy Now revealed some of the reasons for the slow distribution and how days after the quake, so many Haitians are still waiting for food and water and still waiting for medical treatment.

U.S. media has created frenzy over fears of violence, and the United Nations and U.S. Military keep blaming "violence" and "looting" for the slow distribution of aid. But as a number of journalists keep reporting, the "violence" has been minimal and most of it understandable given that people are hungry and desperate. Furthermore, reports about the prisoners escaping have also fueled concerns about violence, but Democracy Now did an excellent report about this very issue - speaking with a local Human Rights Lawyer who explained that about 60-80% of the people locked up were never charged with anything. It is alarming to consider the similarities between the slow response and frantic media coverage of New Orleans post-Hurricane Katrina and what is now happening in Haiti post-earthquake. A great op-ed piece highlights this very issue - "More than Aid, Haiti needs Allies" - pointing out these similarities and arguing why Haiti needs allies in this struggle for immediate relief but also in the long term re-building efforts.

Relief Efforts - How to Help!
Donate if you can, and/or spread the word about these organizations:
Partners in Health - they have worked for over 20 year in Haiti with Haitian doctors and health care workers.
International Action Center - they have a campaign against the militarization of aid in Haiti: "Food not Troops" - sign the petition! - and read their statement of solidarity with Haiti calling for debt cancellation, and self determination for Haiti, not military occupation.
Yele Haiti - they have an up-to-date news blog with what Yele is doing in Haiti day by day to help people and get relief aid into communities. They are also discussing some of the towns and cities near Port-Au- Prince that haven't gotten as much attention - like Jacmel.
Lambi Fund of Haiti - "recovery extends beyond relief" - they are focusing on the long term and focusing on how to help re-build Haiti from within - helping people who need it the most.
Haitian Women for Haitian Refugees (HWHR) was founded by Haitian women in 1992 to respond to the refugee crisis faced by Haitian immigrants in the U.S. and Guantanamo Bay. HWHR has worked to provide solidarity and relief to past humanitaritan crisis in Haiti, including past flood disaster relief for Haiti and the Dominican Republic, and provides cultural programs that include popular education and community organizing. HWHR, Lakou New York, and MUDHA Movement of Dominican Haitian Women are organizing an immediate delivery of first aid relief to the Dominican/Haitian border, to quickly reach affected areas. Donations are being accepted through Pastors for Peace at -http://www.ifconews.org/node/723.
Dwa Fanm (meaning "Women's Rights" in Creole) is a human rights organization started in 1999 by Haitian and American women who share a commitment to women's rights as well as to social and legal equality, justice, peace and democracy. Dwa Fanm has activated an emergency response in collaboration with the Brooklyn Tabernacle to send doctors, nurses and community health workers to bring medical assistance and supplies to areas in Haiti that have been hardest hit.

Migration Rights
A year ago, I wrote a piece titled "Migrations Rights as Human Rights" here on conscious vibration responding to ongoing debates at home in the Bahamas about Haitian immigration. These debates have certainly continued over the past year, but since the earthquake, they have taken on a greater sense of urgency. There is now worldwide attention on Haiti and on the immediate needs of Haitian people. Given the devastation, it makes sense that a number of countries are granting status to Haitian migrants and promising not to deport Haitians back to a country in unimaginable crisis (particularly at the moment when people and countries around the world are helping Haiti through relief efforts). And while the United States has granted "Temporary Protected Status" to all Haitians migrants living in the U.S. for 18 months, they have indicated that new migrants post-earthquake will not be given this same status. This is unacceptable, yet falls in line with the deplorable U.S. policy towards Haitian migration - their refuge is not considered "political" - even during moments of intense political crisis.

In the Caribbean, there have been various responses to the issue of migration: Jamaica has offered help and status to Haitian migrants leaving Haiti after the earthquake. In the Bahamas, our Prime Minister has said that no deportations will happen right now and detainees were released and given temporary status. I applaud the decision to release detainees and give them status, but what about other "undocumented" Haitian migrants? And what about those who may be seeking asylum/refuge from the devastation after the earthquake? Prime Minister Ingraham has indicated that they will be detained and perhaps locked up until they can be deported. This is unacceptable. Our Haitian brothers and sisters need our help, they need our compassion, and they need our support.

I'm re-posting / re-framing parts of my letter here to highlight (and remember) some of our common histories and regional connections - and why we should all care about Haiti. While the focus of this letter is on the Bahamas, I think it resonates with the inhumane migration policies of the United States towards Haitians, as well as other countries who treat/frame any group of people who seek refuge / political asylum as "illegal" and then detain them with the threat of deportation / repatriation. We must rally for social justice and migration rights particularly at this time, in this moment, wherever we live. We must support migration rights now and into the future.

In the Bahamas, our immigration policy towards Haitians has long been shameful and it's time for us to make serious change. It's time for us to create and implement a sensible immigration policy for Haitians and Haitian Bahamians. We need to remember that Haitians have long migrated into the Bahamas and have LONG time been a part of the Bahamas and Bahamian culture. If one supports migration rights and human rights, then we cannot support our government's policy towards Haitians, and we cannot support the statelessness of Haitian Bahamians. During this time of crisis and into the future, we must continue to call on our government to offer more assistance to Haiti and Haitian people. We need to recognize the problems in Haiti are our problems too – people are suffering and dying. We should not discuss the “return” of Haitian migrants until Port-Au-Prince is re-built AND serious efforts are made to truly support and help free Haiti from the chains of debt and poverty (these efforts should be led by the Bahamas along with other countries in the region). This should not be seen as a handout, but as genuine regional solidarity and public acknowledgment of our commonalities and complicated histories.

Haiti does not exist in a vacuum. It did not suddenly become destitute or mismanage resources on its own. There are many reasons: tied to all the ways in which global capitalism works and how the Global South feeds/sustains and keeps wealthy the Global North. There are many reasons why Haiti is in political and economic crisis, why it remains the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. Some of these reasons have to do with the violent dictatorships and corrupt governments since the 1960s, BUT many have to do with regimes of power (like IMF & World Bank), United States imperialism and their support of dictatorships, and a long history of interference. A history and silenced past much too long and complicated to recount here, but some important moments that many of us who study Caribbean history and culture know. Some of these historical silences are being discussed in progressive news reports and even in some mainstream news: particularly a discussion of the Haitian Revolution in 1804, which sparked intense fear across the Caribbean, in the United States, Latin America, and Europe. As a result, Europe and the United States worked to destabilize Haiti; to name a few examples: France demanded 150 million in gold to recognize Haiti as a nation; the U.S. Occupation of Haiti from 1915-1934; Haiti not fully recognized as a republic until well into the 1900s; United States through their Munroe Doctrine continuously interfering in Haiti’s economic and political landscape for their own military and resource interests for over one hundred years.

Haiti like the rest of the (post)colonial world has a context – slavery, colonialism, and new forms of colonialism. This historical/political/social context must be taken into account as we try to understand the present, and as we work towards a better future. A future where we embrace each other regardless of our differences, a future where we love and support each other, a future where we can all be human and free.

To push this conversation forward and to initiate a call to action, I created a Facebook group "Haitian-Bahamian Solidarity" with fellow Bahamians who are deeply concerned with how Haitians are being and will be treated in the Bahamas. We started a letter writing campaign - (for more info, check out the Facebook Group and website). The aim is to create space for Bahamians to discuss the important issue of migration and create a long term vision of exchange and solidarity among Haitians and Bahamians. The first goal / call to action is our letter writing campaign to the government of the Bahamas (see the website - bahatiansolidarity.wordpress.com - for all the details and how you can participate). Fellow Caribbeans and the larger global community are invited to participate in our letter writing campaign. But we also ask that you also write your own letters to your government/leaders calling for similar support.

Supporting Haiti and the people of Haiti means not only responding right now, but also thinking of the future, sustainable and locally-led development in Haiti, and progressive migration rights.

(Un)natural Disaster in Haiti

2010-01-14T01:27:00.000-05:00

My thoughts and prayers are with Haitians (in Haiti and across its dyaspora). The news about the earthquake and relief efforts have occupied my mind and spirit all day long... I ended my 2009 postings on conscious vibration with sister poems I wrote about Haiti and Haitians/Haitian-Bahamians. I shared them in honor of Haiti's Independence and as part of my postings on human rights in December. And now I begin 2010 with these thoughts, new reflections, and a call to action -- to help and do what we can for Haiti.

Today's Democracy Now aired a report about Haiti and the earthquake - and they focused on not only the immediate crisis, but also long term concerns, like migration rights. They offered an in depth discussion about the political turmoil in Haiti and the history of U.S. occupations and interference that created/exacerbated the poverty, environmental degradation, and poor infrastructure in the country. Hence, they made it clear that this is more than a "natural" disaster. In fact, it is quite unnatural considering how much Haiti's political crisis and status as "the poorest country in the western hemisphere" has everything to do with the lingering effects of colonialism and new forms of imperialism. Democracy Now dared to also bring up the subject of migration - raising the question of the United States deporting Haitians during this time of crisis. It seems that deportation will stop for now, but it is unclear how long this will last. While the immediate relief efforts grow, we also have to think about the long term relief and support. It is time for serious and radical change in our collective thinking about migration rights.

CARICOM has pledged emergency aid and is organizing relief efforts within the region. Its closest neighbor, Dominican Republic, responded immediately with relief efforts. The news reports in countries close to Haiti are already discussing the issue of migration and deportation. The Jamaican prime minister is scheduled to visit Haiti on Thursday to assess how Jamaica can help; their government has also issued a statement that they are preparing for migrants fleeing Haiti. The government of The Bahamas has also promised emergency aid and postponed all repatriation efforts; and they too are preparing for more Haitian migrants.

As a Bahamian in solidarity with Haitians and supporter of migration rights as human rights, I am continually disturbed at the anti-migration sentiment in my country and the lack of humanity in which we discuss Haitian migration. The Bahamas is home to many Haitian migrants and Haitian-Bahamians; and our migration policy concerning Haitians is just as bad as the United States. And so even as I cringe at the language being used in some of these regional news reports, I am relieved that our leaders are responding with immediate aid and help. But I am hoping for more action. And I am hoping (against all hope) that this catastrophe sparks change in our public discourse and government policies -- that our consciousness and solidarity with Haiti across the region grows.

I urge all of us to do what we can to help - donating money is probably the easiest/fastest way to help. But there are other ways we can help too - sharing information, creating awareness, and supporting efforts for migration rights and policy changes. (A good start: Sign this Petition by Credo Action - To President Obama, requesting Temporary Protected Status for Haitian refugees in the United States.)

Here's a list of established and well-reputed organizations that are supporting relief efforts -- donate if you can and/or share this list:

Lambi Fund of Haiti: (a grassroots organization who works with community organizations in Haiti) - Donate via text by texting: "send $20 to give@lambifund.org" to PAYPAL (729-725) using paypal mobile...send any $ amt now!

Yele Haiti (a movement led by Wyclef Jean that is helping to bring hope back to Haiti. Projects are designed to make a difference in the fields of education, health, environment and community development.) - Donate via text: Text 'Yele' to 501501 and make a $5 contribution to the relief effort.

Partners in Health (Zanmi Lasante) (Partners In Health staff in Boston and Haiti are working to collect as much information as possible about the conditions on the ground, the relief efforts taking shape, and all relevant logistics issues in order to respond efficiently and effectively to the most urgent needs in the field.)

Doctors without Borders (The first reports are now emerging from Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) teams who were already working on medical projects Haiti. They are treating hundreds of people injured in the quake and have been setting up clinics in tents to replace their own damaged medical facilities.)

Haiti Emergency Relief Fund (Since its inception in March 2004, the Haiti Emergency Relief Fund has given concrete aid to Haiti’s grassroots democratic movement. They are calling for help - to contribute generously, not only for this immediate crisis, but in order to support the long-run development of human rights, sustainable agriculture and economic justice in Haiti.)

*** Let us stand in solidarity with Haiti. Let's create awareness about Haiti and its history. Let's fight against migration politics that are unjust. Let's think about how we can strategize and mobilize these moments to create long lasting and community building / sustaining change.***

I began the new year by creating a vision board of what I wanted 2010 to be for me. As part of my vision, I used the slogan for the upcoming U.S. Social Forum - "Another World Is Possible, Another Us Is Necessary" -- this captured perfectly for me how I'm thinking about revolution and love. For today and the days to come, these words carry even more weight and importance to me - because we have little choice. I have to believe in this now more than ever.

In solidarity & conscious vibration...

Sister Poems

2009-12-31T18:04:00.000-05:00

Unrest

our labor has become more important than our silence

-Audre Lorde

cutting and clearing, cooking and cleaning,

serving and selling our souls away

in dis Bahamaland we nameless and stateless,

in dis country who want we labour, but not we children

dey call us "my Haitian," as if we property

dey say we blood make us violent, as if Bahamian blood different

forgetting and burying, bodies and hands

uprooted like the forests around Port-au-Prince

dey say we takin' over

as if we run tings here

dey say we makin one next Haiti

as if we ain't runnin from her now.

back in Haiti, land of empty mountains,

never catchin a break, no matter we blood

covering the streets, trapped under mudslides

hiding we struggle, to live beyond

a Revolution that never was, sent tremors across ocean currents

creating revelations and rebellions, a Revolution that was, never complete

punished for doing the unthinkable, waging battles, demanding equality,

declaring Independence from French bondage, the first Black Republic

destroyed through pillage of gold, land and people

invaded, occupied, held hostage, denied status

migrations and movements, hiding and blending

name changes and marriages, children and saviors.

some of us come by boat, but we are not boat people

we seek refuge politically, we want peace spiritually

from civil wars, coups, unrest, no-rest, disease, poverty's ruthless clutch,

and so called peace-keeping troops and life-sucking foreign aid.

some of us born here, being both Haitian and Bahamian

feeling both love and shame about who we be,

and still we hear "go home"

as if we ain't built home right here wit' you.

Sip an' Talk

it is better to speak, remembering we were never meant to survive
-Audre Lorde

so many silences about the ocean

connecting Haitians and Bahamians

so many silences to the cutting of life water

who gets to stay and who gets t'row away

so many silences rising upon salty weathered bodies

we want your labor, but yunna chirrin' no

so many silences to teeth-sucking moans

“da Bahamas too small, cyan help erryone”

but we is dem, dem is us

t'rough blood, ancestors, many stories

so many silences to sip sip and talk

sinking Haitian sloops, shark infested seas, missing bodies

so many silences about all dese tings, holes in we history,

the middle passage, 60 million or more, nefarious thoughts,

oceans mixed in spirit and sweat, the weight of resistance

so easily forgotten under colonial eyes and books

dis-remembering roots, language and culture,

long time, water crossings in love and faith

so we must fill the silences with real talk, honest and dirty,

uncovering secrets, from Inagua to Grand Bahama

"all a we is one family, all a we is one"

so we must fill the silences with songs, stitching holes,

filling gaps, replacing fractures, no more blows

"you muh brother, you muh sister, all a we is one"

between us and them

between you and me

"all a we is one"

Human Rights Day

2009-12-31T17:58:00.000-05:00

Human Rights Day - 10th Dec 2009

I had a beautiful plan to write a post on this day responding to this article, but alas I didn't have the time - or I didn't make the time. But I'm playing catch up on this new year's eve - posting all of my december musings at one time - on this last day of 2009. I had a fantastic poetry reading on Dec 10th at the Tongues Afire Reading Series in Brooklyn at the Audre Lorde Project. I shared a number of poems that I worked on and improved through the Tongues Afire Workshop in Fall 08 - so it was such a rewarding and rich experience to share my work a year later. And I shared the "stage" with other Tongues Afire writers and with the amazing & brilliant Cheryl Clark who was our featured poet! She made my entire year by telling me she thought my work and performance was powerful :-) I shared a few poems in honor of human rights day - one titled "all i want is my body" which I shared here on conscious vibration a while back, but I've changed it since... and also two sister poems about migration and Haitians/Haitian Bahamians. I will share them here as well in the next post - part three of my three postings catch up on new year's eve.

Meanwhile, here is the link I wanted to share:

Statement by the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights Navi Pillay on Human Rights Day, 10 Dec 2009

World AIDS Day, Re/Memory, & Activism

2009-12-31T17:45:00.000-05:00

Thoughts & Reflections from 1st December 2009

On World AIDS Day - I sit remembering those who have passed (my mother especially) and those who survive. My red ribbon is always on my bag because everyday - I remember. There's so much silence in our communities about HIV/AIDS - it baffles me how little we talk about it. I wish I talked about it more, but it is so difficult. It's been 13 years since my mother passed away from complications due to HIV/AIDS. And its only been in the past three years that I've really talked about it in any kind of public setting. A few years ago I was asked to discuss HIV/AIDS and the stigma in the Caribbean at a Caribbean Students Association at UF - where I was a grad student at the time. So I decided to break my own silence and talk to fellow students about my story and my mother's story. At first it was really hard, but then other students opened up too. I had for many years done lots of research/reading on HIV/AIDS, and I also did a number of community service activities in college, But talking about my personal connection to the disease was something I did not do very often. Grad school became a space for me to continue this work and also connect to the personal more. So I've been way more active in HIV/AIDS work since I finished grad school, and I've used my community work as a space to discuss larger issues of gender and sexuality in Black communities as well. I think we also have to expand the discourse - not just fight the stigma of the disease, but also fight the stigmas we have about our sexuality and sexualities.

We also have to be break the silences, push through our fears, and embrace our loved ones who are living with HIV/AIDS. We must do this. And we must fight for equal and fair access to treatment and medicine. Not just on World AIDS Day or National Black HIV/AIDS Day - but everyday. This makes me think about how we do activism - how do we live our politics? how do we stay in the struggle? how do we remember our histories?

During the thanks-taking week, Democracy Now aired this beautiful show about the Native American singer/songwriter and activist Buffy Sainte-Marie - someone I had heard of only through her music. I didn't realize how much of an activist she was till I watched the show. I meant to share this clip in November, but time escaped me and so I'm finally doing it now. And so in honor of both World AIDS Day and what should be considered a National Day of Mourning in North America - remembering Amer-Indians and Indigenous' Peoples whose lands were stolen, whose histories have yet to be acknowledged by the dominant culture - I wanted to share this piece on Democracy Now. Buffy Sainte Marie reminds us all that no matter our cause, we can use our minds, hearts, voices, spirits to fight in the struggle... and that we must continue to be present and move forward while remembering the past. I think of this work as - Re/memory - it is the embrace and acceptance of what has happened - the stories that have not been told - and it is the re-collection of those stories and bringing them to consciousness.

Democracy Now! Special: An Hour of Music and Conversation with Legendary Native American Singer-Songwriter Buffy Sainte-Marie

Poverty, Class, Gender & Human Rights

2009-10-18T18:36:00.000-04:00

Amnesty International Head Irene Khan on "The Unheard Truth: Poverty and Human Rights"

Shared via AddThis

Yesterday (October 17th) was the 'International Day for the Eradication of Poverty'. Democracy Now covered this on Friday - and their guest was Amnesty International's Irene Khan, who talked about her book on poverty and human rights. As I watched this segment and reflected on some of the startling numbers - like 1/3 of the world's population are living in poverty and that 1 billion people go hungry everyday - it made me think about the violence of poverty and how it breeds hopelessness. I also think about studies that say 70% of people living in poverty are women. And how women around the world are fighting and organizing and articulating economic and social rights as human rights [check out these sites: IPS News Reports on Gender Equality & Economica: Women and the Global Economy.]

I am talking about these issues in all of my classes, and so they are on my mind constantly. And I grew up in poor working-class communities in the Bahamas, and so I know intimately what we can call the violence of poverty. But I climbed the socio-economic ladder and "made it out" - in spite of great odds and because of hard work. Yet I must acknowledge the opportunities afforded me because of my light skin, scholarships I received, and hence access to higher education. I often feel guilty for making it out and an overwhelming responsibility to live up to something I can't even name. I know my story is not so unusual, yet at the same time, I know that I am an exception to the rule rather than an example of the meritocracy myth - "if you just work hard and believe, you will make it" - cause we all know it ain't that simple. I could easily have ended up on a very different path.

Khan discusses the challenges people face around the world because of unequal access to resources, especially education - which then makes it almost impossible to get out of poverty. She draws a comparison between herself and her family's housekeeper's son - they grew up together but because of class differences and social status, they have ended up in very different places - she had the opportunity to get an education and leave Bangladesh and he didn't. Her story illustrates the clear connection between poverty and class. And yet there are so many stories - complicated by race, colonialism, gender, sexuality, and location - the experiences of many people around the world. Khan highlights some of the struggles and movements in different places, and she insists (similar to Paulo Freire in Pedagogy of the Oppressed) that people who are poor must be empowered to create change -- in other words, they must be the center of their own movements and decision making or what Freire explains as coming to consciousness. This is one of the reasons I wanted to be an educator and teacher- because I experienced empowerment through education - both formal and community.

So today - reflecting on these days set aside to "Stand Against Poverty" Oct 16-18- I wanted to share these sites and sources. And think about how we can make EVERY DAY a stand against poverty. This is too much to talk about here, but we've gotta start somewhere. And the work has begun. So we can support the movements that are in progress. We can make sure that debates/struggles over human rights include eradicating poverty and fighting for social and economic justice. We can spread awareness about the movement to eradicate the IMF/WorldBank/foreign debt of the "Third World/Global South" - the countries who make "First World/Global North" wealth possible. We can develop more strategies to support organizations/groups who focus on empowerment at the local level. We should continue the work of challenging how we define human rights. We must talk about class issues in the places in which we live - and how these are complicated by race, gender, and sexuality. And we must change the way we talk about poverty - as if it is only the problem of those who endure it - because it should matter to everyone.

the state of public discourse

2009-09-22T20:21:00.000-04:00

As an educator, I am constantly overwhelmed by how little my students (in college courses) know about history and how much they want to believe we live in a colorblind world. These two are related - the lack of knowledge about history, or the watered-down version of history they learn in high school and college, feeds the belief in colorblindness and the idea that everyone is equal now. Many of them seem to believe there is no such thing as racism or sexism - and even when I provide examples and talk about these as systems of oppression, they are still unable to discuss these issues in any critical way. I am mystified at how much they don't know and how resistant they are to new or progressive ways of thinking. But then I read mainstream news headlines and reports, and I think about the state of public discourse. There is such a lack of critical engagement in most public discourse, especially mainstream news. Thankfully, there are alternatives, like Democracy Now, Left Turn Magazine, Inter Press Service, and others. But often we have to seek out alternative news media, whose perspectives are deemed by the mainstream as "too radical" which keeps certain voices on the margin. Mainstream has become really conservative, so much so it now the norm.

Most mainstream news outlets, and by extension much of public discourse, lack the language and tools to discuss issues around race, gender, class, and sexuality. It is amazing the gap that exists between academic discourse and public discourse. The language/embrace of multiculturalism, diversity, and colorblindness seems to trump so much of the work done in the humanities, social sciences, and alternative news media that exposes various systems of oppression and reveals how they operate. The moment of political correctness and belief in post-race, post-feminism, just-work-hard-and-you-will-make-it, everyone is equal has completely disrupted our abilities to talk about identity politics and social justice. It is no wonder my students can't talk about race, much less gender, class, and sexuality, and forget global and sexual politics or feminism and feminisms.

If we do talk about race, especially if one is a person of color, we are "playing the race card"; if we talk about gender and sexism, its because women are being overly sensitive; and when white people are asked to think about white privilege, they look confused. This leads to the ridiculous notion of equal opportunity racism and how anyone/everyone can be "a racist" -- this undermines real discussions about racism as systematic and prevents conversations about class and gender dynamics that complicate race. There is no public language to discuss racism and sexism as systematic, but rather people obsess over individual prejudices; there is no public language to really dialogue about racial, class, and gender oppression or privilege; there is no public language to expose interlocking systems of oppression. This is why people of color have been assaulted lately, from attacks on Sonia Sotomayor and President Obama to outright smear campaigns on community organizations like ACORN. This is why we are fearful of the "R" word.

We live in a moment of intense belief in "my opinion"; a moment where dichotomous logic in terms of politics reigns supreme in most news media, in which debate means representing two opposing points with no clear analysis of either side; a moment where there are just two sides (yes/no, for/against) to any & every debate. How did we come to this? When did we loose a grasp of multiple sides, critical analysis, support for one's point of view, evidence to support one's argument that is biased? What happened to the U.S. news media and mainstream journalists who called upon/relied on scholars, researchers, and organizers to clarify and complicate issues of concern from multiple perspectives -- not just two very biased and polar opposite sides that seem to only incite further controversy as opposed to real integrity-driven debate?

The state of public discourse is scary, and speaks to how difficult it is to have real public dialogue and critical reflection. It doesn't help that the first African American President of the United States refuses to really talk about race or admit the extent to which his race affects how people in this country see him. In fact, it makes our jobs as educators, community and intellectual workers, writers, artists, activists, and so on even harder. His presidency is continuously held up as the sign of a "post-racial" america. Thankfully, there are still some journalists who are willing to take the risk and talk critically about race. Recently, Democracy Now covered the issue of President Obama and race when talking with journalist Naomi Klein. Amy Goodman and Naomi Klein discuss Klein's article in Harper's Magazine where she talks about the various ways in which President Obama has avoided dealing with race during his presidency. She connects the Obama Administration's decision to not attend the UN Durban Review Conference on Racism this past April with other big silences concerning race. A shorter version of Klein's article is available online through The Guardian.

The show and article reminded me of how many disappointments we've seen these past few months with President Obama: from not attending the UN Conference on racism to his troubling response to Former President Carter's assertion that racism remains an issue and concern in this country. Carter astutely and clearly stated the obvious -- that the health care "debates" and attacks on President Obama are rooted in racism. This could have been a perfect opportunity for Obama to engage in a conversation about race; it could have been a beautiful moment of critical reflection, and what better person to do it with than someone who is well-respected, a former U.S. President, and active in human rights issues! But alas, no... instead Obama "disagrees" with Carter - in what I see as a very dangerous move. He could have simply said that Carter was entitled to his opinion (which would have been fine, since we live in "opinion happy" moment). He could have said nothing. I suppose I would rather have silence than a response that simply panders to the right wing and the notion of colorblindbess.

I wrote here on conscious vibration back in November that I did have hope in President Obama; that I believed this could be a time of change. I wrote how in spite of my hope I still had fears and concerns. But now my hope is lost... what belief I did have during the first days and months of his presidency have been dimmed through the continued wars, the bank bailouts, and the no-public-option health care plan. And even though on some level, I knew he wouldn't be able to rock the boat that much - after all he is part of the system, particularly one that perpetuates U.S. hegemony and imperialism - still I hoped he would do some of the things he promised.

I know change must begin on the ground, and that we must all take responsibility for creating and sustaining movements. But we also need to hold leaders and governments accountable. And we must also hold those who do work in the name of "public service" accountable. We need to expect something better from those who engage in public discourse, especially the mainstream news. We need to break down the divides among what is deemed "intellectual" and "academic" and what is deemed "public" and "community" -- these divisions only reinforce the hierarchies that already exist. We need public language and new voices to talk about issues of race, gender, class, and sexuality. We need honesty and real dirty talk. We need folks to be able to express their anger in useful ways and channel these energies into change.

Audre Lorde talks about the issue of anger and racism in her 1981 essay titled "The Uses of Anger: Women Responding to Racism" - her keynote address to the National Women's Studies Association Conference. Her theories about the uses of anger in an early 1980s moment in which Black feminist scholars and organizers were calling out white women about their racism can be useful for us now - given the lack of public discourse on race, class, and gender. Lorde explains why her response to racism is anger, how it should make us all angry, and how we can use this anger:

My response to racism is anger. I have lived with that anger, ignoring it, feeding upon it, learning to use it before it laid my visions to waste, for most of my life. Once I did it in silence, afraid of the weight. My fear of anger taught me nothing. Your fear of that anger will teach you nothing, also. Women responding to racism means women responding to anger; the anger of exclusion, of unquestioned privilege, of racial distortions, of silence, ill-use, stereotyping, defensiveness, misnaming, betrayal, and co-optation. ... Anger expressed and translated into action in the service of our vision and our future is a liberating and strengthening act of clarification, for it is in the painful process of this translation that we identify who are our allies with whom we have grave differences, and who are our genuine enemies. Anger is loaded with information and energy.

So many of us are angry, and yes people of color are angry, women of color are especially angry, and as a Black queer migrant women, I'm hella angry... we have a right to be angry - there has been so much backlash and so much regression... we are livin in scary times... so let's continue to fight and use our anger, express it, and transform it into action.

criminality in "post-race" america

2009-08-24T12:43:00.000-04:00

I've been under a rock these past weeks - packing, moving, unpacking, getting settled in my new place, and preparing for my new job. It's been a hectic month... and I am missing New York terribly. But now that I am finally hitting my groove again :) it's time to write, reflect, and keep sendin' out into the universe conscious vibration...

I started a piece a while back about the arrest of Professor Gates, but didn't get a chance to finish it till now. I don't want to re-hash any of the debates already out there about his arrest. But rather I want to use this situation as an opportunity to discuss criminality in what many are calling a "post-race" moment. The most disturbing part of this entire issue was (and still is) the lack of critical discourse about "justice" and the prison system (or the prison industrial complex); AND the accusations hurled at Professor Gates - that he played the race card.

U.S. racial politics and the long history of serious injustice in “the law” and criminal system must be considered. The law and police as institutions are mired in this sordid history. Racial profiling is an everyday experience for people of color. So it is a fallacy to say that Professor Gates “played the race card” – because race was/is already an issue within the daily social, political, and legal fabric of this country. Black, Latino, and Native American men are incarcerated at higher levels than white men NOT because they commit more crimes, but rather because their bodies are criminalized and policed more than white bodies. Black and Latina women face the same harsh reality. (I hate statistics, and I know they can be manipulated to serve different agendas, but these stats have been used by a number of different sources: The 2006 U.S. Dept of Justice Reports "While one in 30 men between the ages of 20 and 34 is behind bars, the figure is one in nine for black males in that age group. Men are still roughly 13 times more likely to be incarcerated, but the female population is expanding at a far brisker pace. For black women in their mid- to late-30s, the incarceration rate also has hit the one-in-100 mark").

Unfortunately, these stats are often used to sustain the fear of the Black male in america, and it also perpetuates the racial stereotype of inherent criminality onto Black and Brown bodies. But these numbers/reports should make us want to understand why so many people of color are locked up in prison, and ask ourselves who profits from this system. The drug sentencing laws alone reveal injustice in the system - from the disparities in crack/cocaine laws to the fact that more than HALF of the people locked up are in there for NON-VIOLENT drug offenses.

(Do your own research; read the latest Pew Report on the prison system; check out Law Professor Ian Haney Lopez’s book titled White By Law for a detailed study of the law and race; AND read Angela Davis' Are Prisons Obsolete? -- she traces the connection between the end of slavery, the rise of the chain gang and the prison industrial complex, which fed/feeds the country's & corporations' need for cheap/free labor.)

NUMEROUS studies show that racial profiling, longer/harsher sentencing, unjust/racist laws, privatization of prisons, and the intense policing of poor communities is what in fact contributes to the high numbers of people of color being locked up in U.S. Jails and Prisons. Again, there are more people of color in prison NOT because crime is on the rise OR that we commit more crimes, its because of the system itself -- longer sentences, ridiculous probation laws that basically guarantee return to prison, lack of resources to help people coming out of prison, and the grim reality of poor communities with few resources exacerbated by state/federal monies going to build prisons instead of schools, spending money on war instead of community.

The prison system in its present state DOES NOT WORK and it certainly doesn't make our communities any safer. But we are suppose to believe in the law and the police without question. And so when Professor Gates gets arrested, it is easier for us to believe that it was an accident, that he "acted out" and therefore deserved it, that the police are just doing their job, that the system and law are colorblind, that he should have just "behaved" properly. It is much harder to question the system itself or consider that the police may lie - they have a code (all police) and they abide by it. And it is much harder to ask why Professor Gates' Black body is seen as threatening in so called "post-race" america -- especially with a Black president. It is even harder to admit that our belief and dependency in/on the prison system makes it work even more.

Ironically, Professor Gates has really never been one to talk about these difficult issues (in terms of the law, prison system, and injustice). In one of his PBS specials "America Beyond the Color Line," he briefly addressed the issue of Black men in prison, but he only touched upon racial profiling. And so now, Professor Gates is faced with the toughest of questions and challenges in an “america” that so wants to believe it is colorblind. He's already lined up to do a special on racial profiling. Is it too much too hope for that he offers a deep analysis of the system? All I can do is dream at this point.

We need alternatives. We need critique. We need to be armed with information/history/herstory to fight against racial stereotypes and misuse of statistics. We need to admit that race (gender, class, sexuality, religion, nationality, & ability) affect how we are treated within a given society and within institutions. We need to develop ways of building communities instead of destroying them. I am anti-prison and I think prison abolition is what we must fight for/towards -- a lot of people think this is ridiculous and some people think the system is too far entrenched to be changed. But I believe we have to start somewhere - and we should aim and struggle for RADICAL change at the root. Research and organizations already exist that offer maps/studies/visions for change. Places to start: - Instead of Prisons; Real Cost of Prisons; and Critical Resistance.

Critical Resistance (a national organization that works to dismantle the prison industrial complex) offers an important resource and space for us re-think, question, and challenge the prison system. Here is how CR defines the problem and their vision of change:

The U.S. uses prisons and policing as a failed “solution” to social problems. As a result, our communities are being destroyed.
• In the past two decades, the number of people in prison in the U.S. increased 400%.
• Prisons are filled with 68% people of color.
• 4 million people who have been in prison face barriers to jobs, parental rights, public assistance, and housing.
• In neighborhoods where people are most affected by mass imprisonment and policing, we see the direct impact of our annual $50 billion investment in prisons and policing: closed schools, homelessness, basic health care is out of reach, and poverty remains a reality in the richest country on earth.

Critical Resistance’s vision is the creation of genuinely safe, healthy communities that do not rely on prisons and policing to respond to harm. We call our vision “abolition.” We take the name “abolitionists” purposefully from those who called for the abolition of slavery in the 1800’s. Abolitionists believed that slavery could not be fixed or reformed – it needed to be abolished.

We must challenge the systems that keep us all locked up - physically, mentally, and spiritually. We must start thinking outside the box. We do not live in a "post-race" or colorblind world. But rather, we live in a world of difference - and we need to keep building across & through our differences to create the world we want to live in, the world we want for future generations.

what about july?

2009-07-26T23:48:00.000-04:00

My friend and I have this running joke about the perils of July as graduate students and then newly-minted PhD's starting first jobs and such - especially if we get no summer teaching. If you are in the education profession, then you too might know about the dreaded nine-month contract. Yes, we are supposed to save enough for the summer months, but that rarely happens... and maybe we can make it through June, but what about July?

So July is a rough patch - even for those of us who plan plan plan... I thought with my first job and all, I would be okay, but living in NYC is hella expensive and then there was re-paying money I borrowed to live through summers in grad school & relocating after graduation... right... and so I ended up scraping by & wondering once again, what about July? (and let's not even talk about August) But no matter these trials, I still love my job and I love the work :) And this July brought me new opportunities & many blessings - I completed my postdoc year at NYU and so I was back on the job hunt - and I got a visiting gig at University of Connecticut in Women's Studies (Assistant Professor in Residence), which starts late August! (Sadly, this means I'm moving to CT, but I will still be close to NYC :)

And I had the fantastic opportunity to go home (Nassau, Bahamas) and teach for the first Bahamas Writer's Summer Institute (BWSI)(which took place from June 29th to July 31st 2009) - organized by fellow Bahamian writers Marion Bethel and Helen Klonaris. It was a five-week institute that included weekly writing workshops, as well as seminars in critical theory and the Caribbean literary imagination. BWSI also hosted several events - a reading series called "Witness" and panel conversations about craft. I couldn't be at home for the entire time, but I was able to teach three seminars on the Caribbean literary imagination. I also participated in two of the panel conversations, as a panelist on blogging and I moderated a discussion about influences beyond the word; and I read poetry for "Witness" with Marion Bethel and Lelawattee Manoo-Rahming.

I was honored to share "a stage" with Marion & Lelawattee (daring & brilliant writers who inspire me so much). I read poems about Bahamian language, my grandmother, queer sexuality, healing from sexual abuse, and silences about Haitians & Haitian Bahamians. This was the hardest part - putting myself out there at home because I fear my people will not fully accept me - my queer Black light-skinned migrant self. But I put myself out there anyway. And I am happy I did. I felt such support in the room - especially from the BWSI participants. I was humbled by the responses. A number of people said that I was brave... but I often don't feel brave, I do what I do because I have to. For me, writing is literally an act of survival - as the great Audre Lorde says, poetry is not a luxury and it is better to speak. I feel that in my bones. And I work to put my body where my politics are - sometimes this means discomfort and pain. It's all worth it though.

The most exciting part for me was the teaching/lecture time and sharing community with the participants and faculty. I organized my seminars by theme: 1) race and class, 2) gender and sexuality; 3) postcolonial identity and mobility. It was my first time being able to talk about these issues in a classroom/community environment at home. We read Caribbean writers such as Michelle Cliff, Edwidge Danticat, David Dabydeen, Dionne Brand, Jamaica Kincaid, Kevin Quashee, Achy Obejas, Marion Bethel, & Lelawattee Manoo-Rahming. We talked about racial mixing and the complexity of class and color in the region. We discussed the social construction of gender and possible roots of sexism and homophobia. We had debates about Bahamian postcolonial identity and culture. We talked about migration issues and human rights in the region. And through all of our conversations, we talked about the Bahamas in relationship to the rest of the region. I made sure that each class included a queer writer so that sexuality was always part of our discussion. The discussions were lively and thought provoking. The experience was incredibly inspiring yet challenging - we always ran out of time and I left each class feeling like there was so much more to say. I sensed great urgency in our classroom to talk about these issues. I felt a part of something very important and very needed. And so I thank the students and fellow faculty - especially Helen and Marion for putting BWSI together. I feel blessed to have been a part of this. It was truly historic. And I hope to be part of many more.

I had to leave BWSI early -- rushed back to New York so that I could get myself together for the big move to Connecticut and preparing for Fall teaching. So there was my July! More than I could have wished for - a beautiful end to my year in NYC. And as I prepare to move and re-locate, I am spending my last few weeks in New York enjoying the place and thinking only of conscious vibration.

work in progress - remembering MJ

2009-07-03T01:10:00.000-04:00

A couple years ago, a group of my friends and I had a Michael video marathon. We watched all his greatest videos from "Rock with You" to "Thriller" and "Smooth Criminal" - we danced and sang along with Michael...and talked about how much we all loved MJ. We also watched the new stuff - from "Don't care about us" to "You are not alone." Seeing the physical transformation of MJ through his videos all in one sitting was quite astonishing and sad really. I saw him as a product of american racism, a troubled family, and a victim of child star obsession. I found myself haunted by his face, his eyes, and words he wrote about his childhood. And I started a poem then, but it remained unfinished in one of my journals until recently. It was (and is) hard to write about him -- I was so disturbed by the abuse accusations, I couldn't face the poem... but when he passed away, I decided to return to it. Like many people, I couldn't stop reading about MJ after he passed away - I listened to his music, watched videos online, and read news reports and blogs. I enjoyed reading different memories from writers who shared their love for MJ and why they thought he was so important. This was a kind of "recuperation" of MJ - he is suddenly responsible for making so much possible for Black people - i.e. he broke racial boundaries in the music industry and the world. MJ has been elevated to a new kind of Pop Icon Hero status. I was amused at the media's attempt to critique itself over "too much coverage" - the hypocrisy of it all - they continue to make money off of MJ, perhaps even more so in death. I watched the memorial service and cried. It was beautiful to hear positive things about this man who was so often berated. It was refreshing to hear about his humanity.

I also watched Democracy Now's report on Michael Jackson and they highlighted something James Baldwin said about him back in 1985, in his essay titled “Here Be Dragons”:

“The Michael Jackson cacophony is fascinating in that it is not about Jackson at all. I hope he has the good sense to know it and the good fortune to snatch his life out of the jaws of a carnivorous success. He will not swiftly be forgiven for having turned so many tables, for he damn sure grabbed the brass ring, and the man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo has nothing on Michael.” … “Freaks are called freaks and they are treated – in the main, abominably – because they are human beings who cause to echo, deep within us, our most profound terrors and desires.”

This made me think more about MJ's treatment as a freak and how we can talk about him as a cultural icon. He certainly broke all kinds of norms, especially with gender performance, but he was also punished for it. I plan to write about this more... But in the meantime, I went back to the unfinished poem.

On Michael Jackson's Passing

I think often about your music, its genius,
but mostly about your sad eyes

I want to find you in your music
I want people to stop making fun of you
I want you to love yourself

I want the world to remember your smile
in spite of the circus and frenzy
your freakish glory and charm

morphing into white-washed
picture perfect view
living american royalty dreams

I want to scream that you were a human being,
not property to be consumed, nor an amusement
park ride, not a thing to rip at, pull & tear a part

they did it to you
we did it to you
you did it to yourself

I see your face, I think about the pain
you must have been carrying for so long

I think about the tears we never saw
the long days and nights of childhood
eroded, stolen, mutilated, burned

I think about this child star being
the object of sexual gaze

I think about the stars dancing around you
in awe of your power to make
people cry and fall out

I think about how you never got to grow
and discover yourself

I think more about your face
your beautiful face, troubling sadness
your eyes, in every picture

june reflections

2009-06-30T15:27:00.001-04:00

I turned 33 this month - 33 in 06 of 09 - its gotta be magical, I hope :) June was a productive and incredibly busy month. It started for me in Kingston, Jamaica - for the Caribbean Studies Association (CSA) Conference, June 1-5. I organised a roundtable panel titled "Contending Forces: Politics of Respectability and the Caribbean Sexual Imaginary" - and I presented some of my new work/ideas on issues relating to sexuality, sexual labor, and tourism in the Caribbean. This work will definitely be part of my current academic book project (based on my dissertation); and will more than likely be the starting point for a future project.

I also helped organise the first Caribbean Sexualities Gathering of the Caribbean IRN (International Resource Network) during the same week in Kingston. I'm on the Caribbean regional board of the IRN, which is a web-based project to bring researchers (from around the world) together who do work on diverse genders and sexualities. It took months to plan our gathering, and it was not only successful :) but also powerful. We brought together over 30 scholars, artists, writers, and activists from around the region (with over 10 Caribbean countries being represented). We had a panel discussion at the CSA conference; a five hour workshop; and a closing reception. During this three-part gathering, we communed, networked, and collaborated. Some of the highlights: We talked about the many issues affecting sexual minorities in the region, and shared specifics in different countries. We talked about LGBT communities in the region and how do deal with homophobia and the struggle for sexual and gender equality. We discussed the need to theorize about different forms of homophobia; and the need to recognize and discuss how vibrant LGBT communities can exist right along side intense homophobia. We talked about different kinds of closets, safety, and the privilege of visibility. We discussed allies and families. We talked about trans issues. We brainstormed about how to create safe spaces for sexual minorities and gender non-conforming people. We formulated ideas about how to use academic and creative work as forms of activism. We discussed possible collaborations among researchers, community organisers, and creative producers -- and how some of us blur the lines among these distinctions. We talked some more, shared, and made exciting plans. And this was just the beginning. So now the real work begins - those of us on the board have much to do, and we now have a fantastic group of people inside and outside the region who want to do this work with us - to develop and utilize the Caribbean IRN. (Check out the website - link above - if you are interested. You can register on the website and see what IRN is about and what all the regions are doing.)

It was surreal having our meeting in Jamaica - a place where such a meeting is thought to be impossible, yet it happened and we hosted it among & with the support of LGBT Jamaicans. It was incredible. This was the second time I had visited Jamaica - the first time was about two years ago and I spent 10 days in the country, Woodside, an hour or so outside of Kingston. This time I was in Kingston for a week - attending the conference and hosting our Caribbean Sexualities Gathering. It was very intense and busy, but I was still able to enjoy and experience the city. I found it to be full of contradictions and beauty much like where I am from in The Bahamas. I saw and felt "queerness" all around me - people out, people in closets, people expressing different ways of being men and women, people who were excited to be around fellow Caribbean lesbian, gay, bi, and trans people. There is so much to say, and I hope to share more soon. But for now, I feel blessed and honoured to have had this experience... and to meet and work with such brilliant people. I made new friends and comrades in the struggle. I will be processing for a while. More to come... as the work continues...

wit' conscious wibes,
Angelique

"Hibiscus Opening at Day Break"

2009-06-09T13:16:00.000-04:00

June has been flying by and rushing me into transitions. I started this posting in early June and it was supposed to be about something else... seems to be how life works (for me, perhaps for others too) - I start somewhere - with a plan, destination even, and I end up somewhere else, and it's often right where I need to be. That's how this poem began - I had an idea, a place where I wanted to go, but the poem had a different agenda :) I've been wanting to share it on conscious vibration for a while. It has gone through a number of transformations; and thanks to excellent feedback from writer-friends, I am happy with what it has become. This was a very difficult poem for me to write. I laboured over it for many hours and many days. It haunted me to be complete, and yet I still feel there is more to say. I've also shared this piece at two readings, and a few people wanted me to post it on my blog. So here it is! I would love your comments.

Hibiscus Opening at Day Break
by Angelique V. Nixon

I woke up today
breathing in her golden red light
for the first time, pulling myself
through memories that break skin

they melt like glass this time
sun showers across my collar bones
they unravel me, no longer
I remember & exhale hard stories

hands and mouths, not suppose to touch or lick me
slow movements, nine year-old thighs, not suppose to enjoy
feel stirring below my belly, each time
tight eyes spill shame, not suppose to tell
I mimic my button on pillows at midnight, to forget
pray forgiveness, our father in heaven, my test?

waking with purpose, I know better now
my broken limbs of dusted pollen
cleansed with rain over petals
telling stories, hard to pass on.

I spoke up today
tethered by Oshun’s tongue
for the first time, patching up
pot holes inside me with warm words

her waters rise up, bursting with leaves
they know me, each pore, each curve
they dance calypso & chant against fear
they carry me to moon’s full embrace

she holds my belly, healing me with honey
her rivers bring vision, eye lids flutter orange
Oshun baths me in her sweet water, letting blood go
my stories seep into oceans of stories, hard to pass on.

They pass through my lips
speaking tongues of revolution
Oshun teaches me to love pleasure
for the first time, trusting female desire
beauty in touch & night’s end
waking to her dark red flame.

Review of Four Electric Ghosts

2009-05-22T22:13:00.001-04:00

Remix, Storytelling, and Soul Flare in Four Electric Ghosts
by Angelique V. Nixon

The new multimedia opera Four Electric Ghosts by Mendi + Keith Obadike recently premiered at The Kitchen in New York, May 14-16, 2009. This breathtaking performance combines dance, theater, folklore, digital media, pop culture, and live music to create a dynamic narrative journey. The journey is told through stories and songs that weave a magical world. Influenced by the landscape of Amos Tutuola’s novel My Life in the Bush of Ghosts and the arcade game Pac-Man®, Mendi + Keith Obadike were intrigued by the world of ghosts portrayed in both the novel and game. They wanted to imagine this world from a new perspective using both Igbo and American folklore; rather than tell the story of mortals caught in such a world, Four Electric Ghosts shares unique stories of four sisters and their travels in the afterlife. This journey and world is hauntingly beautiful and progressive, reflecting African Diasporic cultures and possibilities for a transgressive future. A world and future where Black peoples stories and cultures are not tokens or last minute additions, but rather, they are necessarily present in complicated ways that explode rigid notions of Blackness and Black identity.

To develop this world, Mendi + Keith Obadike joined forces with Angela’s Pulse Performance Projects: choreographer Paloma McGregor, stage director Patricia McGregor, and dancers Maria Bauman, Catherine Denecy, Marjani Forte and Keisha Turner; with design by Kate Cusack (costume), Yuki Nakajima (animation / projection), Alexandre Delaunay (scenic), and S. Ryan Schmidt (lighting). The music was created by Mendi + Keith Obadike in collaboration with bassist/producer Melvin Gibbs and musician Guillermo E. Brown—performed live by Brown, pianist Shoko Naga, and bassist Keith Witty. The characters include four female dancers as the sisters (the four electric ghosts), and three female singer-sayers who narrated and sang the stories, Latasha Nevada Diggs, Karma Johnson, and Mendi Obadike. The multi-layered world of Four Electric Ghosts was led not only by music, dance, and songs, but also live animation and projection by Yuki Nakajima. The world created was visually stunning from start to finish—-the digital effects added futuristic elements, the live music, and the characters’ vibrant costumes added to the narrative dimension of the stage and performance. The four dancers in black body suits distinguished with strips of bright color (red, pink, cyan, and orange), captured the audience immediately as they portray the electric ghosts. The singer-sayers can be thought of as a remix of the Griot (traditional African storyteller); with an Afro-futurism vibe, their costumes and makeup evoked a mix of silver and metallic and a 1960’s soul flare with an edge of punk.

The result of this seemingly odd mixture of game culture, literature, digital technology, live music, and storytelling is in fact pure genius. It is one of the most innovative and refreshing productions I have ever seen. Four Electric Ghosts most certainly challenges contemporary Black cultural production by centering the voices of Black women through stories that cross cultures and time in a diverse multimedia opera. Yet it defies what some like to call a “post-Black” moment (the notion that we have moved beyond race) because frankly Four Electric Ghosts is so very Black. I say this not only because its characters are Black and female, but also because of its music and dance and use of folklore. While some may categorize this multimedia opera as “post-Black” because of its use of multiple art forms and digital technology, this engagement is rooted in and in dialogue with the complexities of Black culture(s). From the eclectic mix of different musical forms (funk, jazz, soul, rock, electronic, and gospel) to dance performance that drive the stories, Four Electric Ghosts successfully weaves together and remixes elements of contemporary dance and music with African-centered art forms.

The stories in Four Electric Ghosts are grounded in the West African (Igbo) tradition of storytelling and basic truths passed along though song, dance, and proverb. The narrative layers include storytelling narration, songs, digital story boards, and dance to tell each sister’s journey. The four sisters receive gifts and protective chalk from their mother, a wise farmer woman, who splits a kola nut among her daughters, and they each reap a special item from their part of the kola nut. But the sisters die in an electric storm and end up in “The Land of the Dead,” where each sister embarks on a journey from their Electric Town to different towns within the land—first sister in Floating Feather Town, second sister in Flavorville, third sister in Weather Town, and fourth sister in the town of Fish-Headed Junk Ghosts. Their stories are textured with mythic adventures: first sister angers a wizard by cutting down a special tree; second sister learns the sacred secrets of flavor; third sister falls in love with a mortal woman; and fourth sister becomes a gospel star and breaks a sacred rule. Luckily, they still have their protective chalk and special gifts from their mother, which help them during encounters with different ghosts and trouble with mortals. The sisters each learn and grow during their travels, and in the end, they return just in time to save Electric Town from an evil mortal. The stories are seamlessly woven together through the singer-sayers and songs with clever and proverbial titles, like “Dark needs Sunlight,” Death Begins with An Appetite,” “No Hands Can Hide the Moon,” and “Everyday Medicine.” Meanwhile, the music and striking digital media enhance the stories and give depth to the world of Four Electric Ghosts.

The multi-layered narrative makes the performance energetic, soulful, and interactive. As the story ends, the sisters and the singer-sayers glide through the audience and bring people to the stage for the last dance and song. At this moment, we the audience became part of the story and part of the future—an imagined (possible) future that values African Diasporic cultures and Black women’s stories and celebrates the diversity of Blackness. This is just a taste of what is a remarkable and beautiful journey in Four Electric Ghosts. I can hardly do it justice here, but what I hope to do is spark conversation among those who experienced it and incite more buzz for another run of this magically executed work of art.

(photos courtesy of Mendi + Keith Obadike)

"minkisi"

2009-04-28T00:57:00.000-04:00

My reading was beautiful :) fantastic turn out, shared four poems, and received much love & support, especially from my peeps who made it out and also from people I just met that night :) So I got requests to put these poems online. One is already here on my blog (previous post "I am, we are, speak"), which I closed my reading with; quite a few people came up to me after and said they really appreciated that piece. I felt so humbled and inspired to have queer Caribbean women come up to me to talk about my poem. Very cool.

The big hit though was my poem "minkisi" published in Journal of Caribbean Literatures Summer 2008, Volume 5, Number 3. I wrote this about my gramma who passed away when I was 18 - she raised me and took care of me for most of my childhood. This poem came from a dream I had of her and my desire to hold onto to precious memories. I also struggle with having very few pictures of her, and so certain objects have been very important in sustaining memories. A number of people asked about this poem and said they really liked it :) and that it spoke to them. My gramma's spirit comes through in so much of my poetry, and I'm happy that different people connect with the piece. I'll post other poems soon.

minkisi*
for Mabel Sistella Charles

I open the box of memories where I keep your voice.
I hold onto the fan made of blue feathers, the colour of ocean’s play.

You kept it in a special place on your bureau, that fluffy fan
still in its plastic box. I would go to it, playing dress up,
wearing your church dress with goldish yellow flowers,
pretending to be you with careful fanning strokes.

When I unfurl the fan, your essence fills the space
I occupy, as I breathe in that cloudy picture, holding onto it,
with your song to guide me in this reverie.

I always heard you coming,
the dangling silver gliding on your delicate dark brown wrists,
emitting a relentless power, hands curled from sweeping and scrubbing.
I wear those bracelets, the sound of you, a faint noise in my ears.

The silver bracelets speak of you,
they whisper in harmony of your determination
to perform in a world that could not see you.

I gaze at withered photographs, searching in the shadows
to discover you, flashes caught by chance, holes in time,
haunting with long days of cooking for white families,
still bringing fervor home.

You stare back with defiant eyes, reminding me of your stern
cold love, always assured through stories, songs, and
tasty meals made from grits, rice, and sardines.

I keep the tarnished silver key to your bedroom, as if it will unlock
some mysterious black hole transporting me to the time I need back,
time we didn’t have. Those nights creeping into forever
dangling on despair became easy in your arms as we slept,

and I dreamt of the bookie and b’rabbie tales,
stories you sang to keep my imagination spirited,
I want them again.

your fan’s breeze, your silver’s melody, and your key’s magic, gramma,
are what I have left of you in my box of memories.

*In the Kongo tradition, minkisi are objects that contain medicines and a soul that are spirit-embodying and spirit-directing, thought to effect healing and other phenomena* ~ Flash of the Spirit

"I am, we are, speak"

2009-04-15T17:50:00.000-04:00

I want to share on conscious vibration
one of my poems that has just been published in Black Renaissance Noire (Volume 9 Issue 1)!!!

I am very excited and feel honored & humbled to be in this outstanding publication, and in this issue, which includes amazing writers and poets I greatly admire like Joy Harjo and Elizabeth Alexander! I still can't believe it... I am also reading at the "Winter 2009 Issue Release" on Friday, April 17th, along with Anthony Barboza, Tara Betts, and Monica A. Hand. I'll be sharing this piece and a few others :) Will report on the reading after Friday...

I am, we are, speak
by Angelique V. Nixon

we are home
we are migrants
we are born on islands and lands
touching the Caribbean Sea, mixing Atlantic & Pacific oceans
we are born away, in foreign, we are hyphenated abroad
crying from London to Toronto and Miami to Brooklyn

some of us can leave, some of us can’t
some of us don’t want to leave
some of us have to leave
some of us return home, some of us don’t
some of us can’t return
though we dream

we come from different backgrounds and places
we are spiritually religious, but some of us are spiritually driven
we have built bridges over/seas with cardboard and duct tape
we have invented languages out of clashes and drums
we have culled families out of many races and mixtures in/between
we are many cultures, many languages, many people

we accept each other (do we?)
we celebrate and love deep
we cry and laugh loud
we are oceans of highs and lows
we are people, rippling beyond/inside home
but we are not all the same

so when you cut your eye at me, turn your back,
or raise your fists in hate, rejecting my body
when you see my female hands touching her shoulders
my fingers lingering, along her back, a second too long,
you have already heard stories about me
my “lifestyle,” you suck teeth and shout “sissy”

remember I told you
that I love you anyway
I hold open your eyes with my pen’s light
I embrace your fists with my third eye’s alliance
I do not threaten you
I do not hate you

some of us are not straight
some of us are queer
some of us are gay and lesbian
some of us are bisexual
some of us are same-sex loving
some of us are transgender and gender defying

we can be silent no longer about all that we are
we can be silent no longer about all that we are not
and the in/betweens trouble boundaries
these must be spoken

Black Women and Violence

2009-03-22T15:54:00.001-04:00

The theme of this year's International Women's Day (March 8th) was focused on domestic violence and sexual abuse against women and children. So I wanted to take some time to reflect on how different forms of violence are connected - domestic violence, hate crimes, sexual abuse, and homophobic violence. It is disturbing to think about how much violence is enacted by men because of what they perceive as a threat to their masculinity, sexuality, or authority. I remember growing up and seeing MOST of the men in my family hit their wives and girlfriends. I remember watching my mother deal with abusive men till she passed. I remember how much we accept violence as normal, and how some can sit with a straight face and ask "what did she do" in cases of domestic violence.

These thoughts ran through my head as I read about Chris Brown and Rihanna, and when I heard about young teen girls creating a website and saying in online forums that they support Chris Brown no matter what. On Bossip, the writers painted Rihanna as "the problem" - she gave him something, she was too needy, and other such nonsense. What was striking to me in all the news reports and the gossip sites is that people were looking for "the reason" why this particular event happened, as opposed to any real discussion of domestic violence (and for instance how it crosses class lines). People seemed to sympathize more with Chris Brown and his loss of endorsements, while obsessing over the pictures of Rihanna and whether or not she would take him back (invasion of privacy). Granted they are both public figures and celebrities, so one could argue that they have no privacy. But I have to wonder how much of this invasion has to do with her being a Black female. Certainly, she has much more protection than others because of her celebrity status and her money. Still I have to wonder how the reporting would have gone down if she was white or if she were not extremely popular. If she had no status or money, it would not have received the same kind of media attention, of course, or it may have been painted differently.

Let's think about other public cases of Black women experiencing violence at the hands of Black and non-Black men. R. Kelly's acquittal and how the young Black female (on "the tape") was discussed in the media. Her body was so easily dismissed and rendered "whore," beyond rescue, a non-victim of sexual violence. The Duke Lacrosse case - while the "actual" events remain unclear and contaminated within an inept legal system, what is clear is that the accuser was demonized from the beginning as "stripper" and "whore" - Black woman's word against a bunch of white men - who then became the victims while she got death threats. Obviously these cases are very different, but they are all rooted in sexism, racism, and violence.

Audre Lorde argues this very point in her essay "Sexism: An American Disease in Blackface," and she supports an open dialogue between Black men and Black women about sexism, one that confronts sexism and racism in order to abolish violence in our communities. Published in 1979, this essay by Lorde is still very relevant, particularly in her analysis of the connections between different forms of violence:

"But the Black male consciousness must be raised to the realization that sexism and woman-hating are critically dysfunctional to his liberation as a Black man because they arise out of the same constellation that engenders racism and homophobia. Until that consciousness is developed, Black men will view sexism and the destruction of Black women as tangential to Black liberation rather than as central to that struggle. So long as this occurs, we will never be able to embark upon that dialogue between Black women and Black men that is so essential to our survival as a people. The continued blindness between us can only serve the oppressive system within which we live." (64)

While her context for the essay is the United States, her analysis is useful for other communities of color and post-colonial societies. In other words, her words ring true for me as I think of the Caribbean context and the Bahamas in particular. While things have changed since I was growing up, we still have a huge problem with domestic violence and sexual abuse in our communities. Certainly, this is not only a problem in communities of color; in fact, we know that domestic violence crosses racial and class lines. But what I am pointing out here is exactly what Lorde argued almost 30 years ago – to discuss violence and the abuses that Black women experience must include a dialogue about racism, sexism, and homophobia within the larger context of white capitalist patriarchy. We still experience what Lorde describes as “the systematic devaluation of Black women within this society” (65); and I would include other societies and communities as well, in which Black women and other women of color remain marginalized (economically, politically, and socially).

Lorde suggest that in order to stop the abuse, we must begin the dialogue. And we cannot accept some forms of violence and condemn others. In other words, we can’t fight against domestic violence and sexual abuse and do nothing about homophobia. So now that the media attention on Chris Brown and Rihanna has “renewed” the issue and perhaps reminded the public that domestic violence crosses class lines, let’s use this moment as another spark. Let us push the dialogue forward, change the conversation, break the silence, and hold the media accountable for what it chooses to focus on. Let us search for and promote organizations that hold men accountable for violence (Kevin Powell was recently on Oprah talking about his work on this very issue and his new organization for men). Let us spread the word about the important documentary NO! by Aishah Shahidah Simmons. Let us talk in our own families and communities about violence. Let's make everyday International Women's Day.

winter blues & spring dreams

2009-03-22T01:23:00.000-04:00

So I've been under a rock - February flew past me and now we are deep into March ("where in the world is all the time") and I'm so ready for winter to be over... dreaming of spring... tired of the cold. I've been terribly busy with teaching and writing and everything in between. I have some exciting projects and events coming up (will post more on those later). Meanwhile, I've been hard at work on my writing, and I had a great reading on March 6th. I performed at Rivers of Honey (a cabaret featuring women, two spirit and trans artists of color the first Friday of every month at WOW Cafe in NYC). It is such a supportive and affirming space - I wanted to be present in the moment and bring my energy, spirit, & passion through in my reading. And I think I was successful :) The evening reminded me of why its good to work in multiple mediums and venues in our art; that we must find balance and be in spaces that nurture growth.

I went home for a short visit last week - for warmth and of course to visit with my peeps/friends/fam. Had a wonderful time - I enjoy home so much, but every time I visit I am reminded of all that keeps me away from home. I leave sad with this longing to move back, but then fear sets in and I wonder if I can ever really move back home. Reasons dash through my head - the pros and cons, the stuff I can't share, the stuff that is hard to talk about... hard to fully explain - it's not just one thing - it's religion, it's christian fundamentalism, it's family shit, it's hyper male dominance, it's sexuality, and it's about how do I do the work I want to do - in the space of home - a space that can be so constricting, suffocating, narrow, and yet so amazing.

The amazing things are easy to list and remember and love... it's the other stuff that is hard to hear and hard to take. Stuff like - young men getting acquitted from murder charges using the "gay defense"; stuff like - The Bahamas is now the highest per capita in the world for sexual crimes and domestic violence, but somehow (some) people (Bahamian men) feel as if Bahamian women don't need any more rights; stuff like - "gayness" is a disease that you can catch; stuff like - (some) people are so threatened by sexuality and feminism and women who speak intelligently, that our words are dismissed before they are spoken.

I write these winter blues of home, winter blues of a desire for change, winter blues of a snapshot of my experience hearing/watching the filming of a Bahamian tv show with two young Bahamian men "debating" sexuality and homosexuality. I wanted to scream, but they could not hear me. They would not hear my female voice, my queer voice, my Bahamian voice; and so I did not speak, I was silent - for the first time in a REALLY long time, I held my tongue. I sat and watched and listened. It was not my platform, I told myself. It was not my time to speak. It was in fact my friend who was being interviewed, and so I silently rooted for her and sent her positive wibes through the show. I know my strengths, and dealing with quotes from The Bible and damnation is not one of them. Honestly, I was amazed at how she dealt with them with patience and intelligence, even as they were dismissive, combative, and condescending. This experience made me really understand the battles I would have to face living at home on a daily basis - not only because of my sexuality, but also because I am critical of organized religion & fundamentalism, and on top of everything, I have radical views about tourism and development (that counter dominant perspectives - I do not believe it is our savior), and my deep investment in feminist movement that is anti-racist and class conscious.

Not that I don't have (these) battles where I live now, and will no doubt have battles wherever I live. Homophobia and sexism are alive and well everywhere. So I'm not saying that it's so much better here than there. But what I have come to accept is that there are battles I am willing to fight and others I can't - at least not on the ground, at least not right now. And while I want to be home, I know that I will continue to do the work I want to do from wherever I am. I have to believe that I can make a difference through my writing, through my poetry, through my community work. I have to believe that I can be a part of change at home, even as I live abroad - my spirit is always home. So my spring dream is that I can be and live at home at some point... soon... But in the mean time, I'm gunna keep writing and working and saying the stuff that is hard to say. I will not hold my tongue.

I have felt how dangerous it is to be (outspoken) female, queer, Black, and feminist in all the spaces I have lived. But I'm gunna keep it movin' anyway. In the words of Audre Lorde, "it is better to speak, knowing we were never meant to survive." And so even as we speak, we must sustain ourselves and spirits first in order to be in healthy in the struggle and in all the work we do.

Migration and Human Rights

2009-01-31T20:52:00.000-05:00

I've been working on this piece for the past couple weeks. I am responding to an article published in The Tribune Insight (Nassau, Bahamas) on Jan 12th about Haitian immigration (if you want a copy, let me know, I can email it to you).

Trying to figure out the best way to respond has weighed on me... because it is so important and because it was/is hard to write. While I wrote this as a letter to editors of newspapers in Nassau, I plan to continue the writing and turn it into a longer article. And so I see it as a work in progress... there is so much more to say about these issues and concerns. I hope, like others, to create more dialogue and more exchange and more space for us to talk about these issues -- especially my fellow Bahamians and the rest of my Caribbean brothers and sisters.

The Tribune; The Nassau Guardian; The Bahama Journal

Dear Editors,

In response to the recent and ongoing debates about Haitian immigration in the Bahamas, I urge my fellow Bahamians to think about these issues from a place/space of justice and humanity. More specifically, in direct response to John Marquis’ article on the 12th of January in The Tribune’s Insight, I offer a challenge to his racist colonial engagement with history and culture. As a Caribbean scholar, writer, and cultural critic, I feel a great sense of obligation to enter these debates. While I live and work abroad, my spirit is also at home. The work I do as a teacher and community worker is rooted in the struggle for liberation of all people, especially people of African descent and communities who are marginalized. In the university courses I teach, I often discuss issues concerning immigration broadly, particularly in the Caribbean context. I also share my ideas and feelings about these issues at home and abroad, mostly among friends, family, and fellow writers, artists, and scholars. But I have been too silent about the experience of Haitians in the Bahamas in my writing; hence, why I write this letter, knowing full well that you, the editors of our Bahamian newspapers, may not publish it. I know this because other letters in response to these debates, challenging John Marquis particularly, have not been published. But I write this letter anyway—to you and to my fellow Bahamians, in support of the rights of Haitian migrants and Haitian Bahamians.

We in the Bahamas traffic in ugly and hateful language when speaking about Haitians and Haitian Bahamians. Our government policies on “illegal” immigration and the detention of Haitian migrants in the Bahamas is too often inhumane and violates the most basic notions of human rights. We criminalize and deport Haitian migrants who seek refuge in the face of grave danger and the social and political unrest in their country. We depend upon the labour of Haitian migrants everyday, even as we deny them legal rights and/or status to be in the country. We even deny rights to the children of migrants, who are by birth Bahamian citizens. But due to an outdated law that grants automatic citizenship only to those who have Bahamian parents, many Haitian Bahamians remain stateless in their own country because of the difficulty in securing their status. They (like all children of migrants in the Bahamas) have to apply for citizenship at 18—which can take years, especially if one does not have access to legal help. On top of the legal challenges that Haitians and Haitian Bahamians deal with, they are socially stigmatized—from slurs and racial stereotypes to poor treatment at our clinics and hospitals, Haitian people bear much blame for a variety of social ills in Bahamian society. When times are rough, tourism is down, crime is on the rise, and/or people are getting laid off, Haitians are the scapegoats for our troubles, crime, and strapped resources.

I have heard too often from my fellow Bahamians that Haitians are “different” from us, that they are “violent,” and that “they taking over.” I respond by trying to reason with people and call for a sense of humanity. I point out the obvious: that we as people are connected, as Caribbeans, as neighbours, as having common histories and ancestry. But my conversations halt or take a different turn once I indicate my belief in the rights of Haitian migrants to seek political asylum and the rights of Haitian Bahamians to their birthright of citizenship. Sometimes we have arguments, and other times, people say things like “they don’t belong here” or “they need to go back to their country” or “we can’t help and why should we.” I respond with a slew of reasons why we should help and why they do belong here, grounded in human rights, a sense of justice, and also in history. During these moments, it occurs to me that part of the problem here is our lack of knowledge—what we don’t know about the related and connecting histories between Haiti and the Bahamas, and what we don’t know about the region and global relations of power, and how all these are linked to the effects of slavery and colonialism. Some of what we don’t know is the lack in our education systems; some of what we don’t know is because of silence and fear.

And sadly, some of what we don’t know is miseducation, coming from the very sources that are suppose to keep us informed; case in point, Marquis’ imperialist and white colonial view of Haitian and colonial history, which he uses to “prove” his point about the “dangers” of Haitian “illegal” migration into the Bahamas. He uses a very skewed and racist vision of history to support his unfounded argument that Haitians “introduce a violent strain in Bahamian society” and that we come from “different tribal backgrounds,” which is frankly ridiculous and wrong. In the article, he repeats an analogy that he has used before and insists on using again—Haitians entering the Bahamas is like pitbulls mixing with potcakes. By comparing both Haitians and Bahamians to dogs, Marquis participates in a long colonial tradition, started during slavery, one that sees Black people as animals (i.e. scientific racism), and one that views creolization (the mixing of African & European people, languages, & culture) as contamination. Miscegenation (racial mixing) was a threat to colonial white rule during slavery, but European planters and slave owners also depended upon and encouraged the rape of Black women to control the enslaved population, as well as to “produce” and “breed” more bodies for slavery. Marquis claims to have studied Haitian history, yet it is clear he only looks at history and politics from a white colonizer’s perspective, while leaving out and ignoring so much. Marquis’ words are dangerous (as Helen Klonaris has expressed already in her letter to the editor on January 25th), not only because of his racist and imperial gaze on history and culture, but also because he creates and sustains hysteria with his words. He feeds on people’s fear of difference and manipulates the anxieties that Bahamians have about the economy, crime, and migrants straining resources. He predicts that the Bahamas will be “ruined” because of “illegal immigration” in just 10 to 15 years, and he uses false claims about Haiti and Haitian people to support his prediction. He relies on distorted colonial views of history to form his opinion about the current socio-political climate in Haiti and the Bahamas.

We must silence these false claims and inaccuracies. We must do our own research of Haiti, the Bahamas, and the rest of the Caribbean. We should think about how many of us have migrated and sought refuge (for education, for work, for family, for love, for better opportunities) abroad. We should think about how many of us desire to move and live abroad. We should ask ourselves how we want and expect to be treated if/when we migrate. We should really think about what it must feel like to have to flee/escape one’s own home because one has no other choices. To do this, we must think about migration rights and human rights—perhaps migration as a human right. We ought to ask each other questions and uncover the silences and culture of intolerance that bind us. And then maybe we can face certain truths and histories, reflecting on how close we are to Haiti and how long our stories as places, colonies, and countries have crossed.

We need to remember that Haitians have LONG migrated into the Bahamas and have LONG time been a part of the Bahamas and Bahamian culture. If one supports migration rights and human rights, then we cannot support how our government deports Haitians, and we cannot support the statelessness of Haitian Bahamians. We should call on our government to offer more assistance to Haiti. We need to recognize the problems in Haiti are our problems too – people are suffering. We should not discuss the “return” of Haitian migrants until more efforts are made to truly support and help free Haiti from the chains of debt and poverty (these efforts should be led by the Bahamas along with other countries in the region). This should not be seen as a handout, but as genuine regional solidarity and public acknowledgment of our commonalities and complicated histories.

Haiti does not exist in a vacuum. It did not suddenly become destitute or mismanage resources on its own. There are many reasons: tied to all the ways in which global capitalism works and how the Global South feeds/sustains and keeps wealthy the Global North. There are many reasons why Haiti is in political and economic crisis, why it remains the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. Some of these reasons have to do with the violent dictatorships and corrupt governments since the 1960s, BUT many have to do with regimes of power (like IMF & World Bank), United States imperialism and their support of dictatorships, and a long history of interference. A history and silenced past too long and complicated to recount here, but I offer a list to begin/open the conversation: The Haitian Revolution in 1804 sparked intense fear across the Caribbean, in the United States, Latin America, and Europe. As a result, Europe and the United States worked to destabilize Haiti; to name a few examples: France demanded 150 million in gold to recognize Haiti as a nation; the U.S. Occupation of Haiti from 1915-1934; Haiti not fully recognized as a republic until well into the 1900s; United States through their Munroe Doctrine continuously interfering in Haiti’s economic and political landscape for their own military and resource interests for over one hundred years.

Haiti like the rest of the (post)colonial world has a context – slavery, colonialism, and new forms of colonialism. This historical/political/social context must be taken into account as we try to understand the present, and as we work towards a better future. A future where we embrace each other regardless of our differences, a future where we love and support each other, a future where we can all be human and free.

Regards,
Angelique V. Nixon
Postdoctoral Fellow, Africana Studies, New York University
January 31, 2009, New York, NY

for those who do justice & love

2009-01-20T13:53:00.000-05:00

The Inauguration was so uplifting and incredibly special... and while I wish I could have been in D.C. for the big day or surrounded by my peeps and loved ones at a viewing party... a part of me is content that I watched it alone, feeling reflective, having time to let it all sink in... and wash over me. And so now I can write it down and really engage in my thoughts. While it would probably be most appropriate to talk about Obama's speech, which I thought was really good with some surprising moments & expected moments, I want to talk about the benediction and the poem.

First the poem by Elizabeth Alexander - "Praise song for the Day" - at first, I was disappointed, I felt it was too subtle, too broad, not culturally specific enough. I wanted more fire, more energy, something more. I was waiting for this during the reading, as her beautiful metaphors ran through my mind, I was waiting for her to take me somewhere and leave me feeling moved by her message of love. I was not moved until I read it on the page. Now that I have had time to reflect on the piece, I feel its power, its subtle rage, but I still wanted more specificity. I do like that she talks about words and the everyday: "We encounter each other in words, words spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed; words to consider, reconsider." I like that she speaks of people fixing things that need to be fixed, people wanting more, wanting better lives. I like that she says people are making things - music - "with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice." Subtle in its references to Black cultural production, yet somehow inclusive... praising creativity & daily work.

I am happy that she reminds us to "Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing the names of the dead who brought us here, who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges, picked the cotton and the lettuce, built brick by brick the glittering edifices they would then keep clean and work inside of." For me, this not only an important (re)memory of the labor by African Americans during enslavement, reconstruction, and segregation, but it's also diasporic in its scope (for Africans enslaved in the Americas and their descendants), and casts a wide net to include the many immigrant communities (particularly Asian & Latino/a) that labored and continue to labor in the United States.

I love that she uses "praise song", which is not only an African poetic form, but it also resonates with people who are religious and/or spiritual. I like that it's a "praise song" that is somber as it calls for love to be the root & will for change. But it's a praise song, and I didn't feel that in the poem or the reading. But I find it radical that she asks us to imagine if love was the mightiest of words, what if love was more than marriage, family, and nation... love beyond comfort... asking us to think about love as a radical act. Perhaps this is too touchy-feely for some, perhaps this is too simple, but maybe it needs to be that, maybe we need to start looking at the most obvious solutions... maybe she calls us to create the change we want in our individual lives, in the everyday. (Clearly connecting with Obama's call for being the change we want in the world.)

Surely there is too much hate in the world... so I ain't mad at her for her call of love, her asking us to think about love. I see "love that casts a widening pool of light" as healthy love... love that is not weighted down with obligation or expectations or pain. Maybe this is all too idealistic, and for sure, my cynical self screams out - we need more than love! - and yes, we do need more than love, but I'm willing to start with love.

I've been thinking a lot about how to stay in the struggle, being active in community work and service, being a writer/teacher/scholar/poet, how do we stay healthy, how do we avoid burnout? I feel like we have to take care of ourselves first, we have to stay healthy. Then maybe our work will be more productive, our minds/bodies/spirits will feel renewed & sustained. And that way we can better organize & recruit, and keep ourselves & our comrades/partners/friends in the struggle against oppression, fighting against racism, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia, classism, and patriarchy - in all the ways that we can do that - in whatever our work is - from the day to day experience, from direct action & campaigns to teaching, writing, & community organizing.

So this brings me to Revered Joseph Lowery's benediction, (the best prayer ever) which I did not expect to love as much as I do. First of all, he started with a verse from the Negro National Anthem - so beautiful, so perfect for the moment! And second, he was brilliant and radical in his references to history and his call for change & justice. And third, he made it ever so clear that we ain't there yet, that we have work to do. I quote at length pieces from the prayer that I want to remember and reflect on:

And now, Lord, in the complex arena of human relations, help us to make choices on the side of love, not hate; on the side of inclusion, not exclusion; tolerance, not intolerance.

And as we leave this mountain top, help us to hold on to the spirit of fellowship and the oneness of our family. Let us take that power back to our homes, our workplaces, our churches, our temples, our mosques, or wherever we seek your will.
...
With your hands of power and your heart of love, help us then, now, Lord, to work for that day when nations shall not lift up sword against nation, when tanks will be beaten into tractors, when every man and every woman shall sit under his or her own vine and fig tree and none shall be afraid, when justice will roll down like waters and righteousness as a mighty stream.

Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get in back, when brown can stick around ... when yellow will be mellow ... when the red man can get ahead, man; and when white will embrace what is right. That all those who do justice and love mercy say Amen.

I appreciate his acknowledgment of different religions and spiritual beliefs. I love his call for tolerance and justice. And finally, I am still trippin over how he ended it with such a specific Black cultural reference, and how much it worked for me, and how much I loved it - mostly cause he kept it in the future tense. He wants us to recognize the work we still have to do and understand that just because we have the first Black President of the United States, it don't mean racial injustice, prejudice, or racism goes away. I love that he made this Black vernacular saying so multi-racial, without taking away its multiple and deep meanings for Black people, while opening it up for people of color.

I felt like he built a bridge with his prayer and hopefully made people think about the work we still have to do. We need to push the boundaries of all that divide us, while recognizing & embracing difference, as the great Audre Lorde says, so that we may build strong alliances. This means we cannot ignore race, gender, class, sexuality, religion, nationality, etc. This means we have to do some hard work. It means we have to challenge each other and hold each other accountable, especially our leaders. I was happy to hear Obama say that his administration would be held accountable. I was very happy to hear him acknowledge that rich countries cannot ignore their relationships to poor/developing countries. I was pleased to hear his confidence and determination to make tough decisions - asking us to be a part of the change we want.

I've been curious about how the Obama administration would position itself on civil rights issues & other issues - their agenda is up on the web and very intriguing. I like the policy of transparency, use of technology, and how it seems that they want to keep people in the know about what they do. Time will tell, and these are only items/issues on an agenda... But I'm tryin to keep hope alive...

Check out the new white house agenda on civil rights

I want some of these to be more progressive, but I guess we have to start somewhere... and these actions are way past due...

So I'm sendin Obama a conscious vibration for his first 100 days! and for the next four years! Let's see what changes he makes and hold his administration accountable for what they say & what they need to do.

taking flight

2009-01-03T03:06:00.000-05:00

I dream 2009 to be a year of flight... to be a year of movement and completion. I want to wake up everyday with less fear, I want to sleep at night with accomplishment. I want to feel settled, but at the same time, I desire the freedom to move and travel as I need.

I have many goals, all the things & more that I want to finish, accomplish, and bring to fruition. Sometimes, I can't sleep, feeling all this urgency to do and be... This year I want to stop sometimes and simply enjoy... the rushing and urgency has its place - it gets me in the zone for my work, for my writing. But sometimes, I need space and time and me to fit in between. Being still is incredibly hard for me.

I feel the need to be still this year... to let what needs to happen, happen, but at the same time, directing my flight, and also letting the ancestors guide me.

"all I want is my body"

2008-12-19T09:55:00.000-05:00

I wrote this poem in the Tongues Afire creative writing workshop. I've been wanting to write this poem for a very long time but I didn't have the words, the courage, da wibe... but the workshop, our synergy, and incredibly powerful space helped me to write this. I also have been sitting in this fantastic course at NYU on Race, Gender, & Sexuality with Gayatri Gopinath - (I presented my research in her class and ended up sitting in for several more class sessions because it was so thought provoking and relavent to my work) - and the readings and conversations added other dimensions to what I had already been grappling with in my head about the body and gender and sexuality. So anyway, here it is:

all I want is my body

I carved in my body
memories of rape and coercion
control and no-other-choice sexual relations

spirits of Black women, Brown women, Yellow women,
women of color, sing to me of blood and torn tissue, and
split psyches, remember, what I had to do, was made to do

breeding (of slaves), denial (of rape), benefits (of war)
unfree being capital, non/being, object of desire and hate
crossing borders woven inside my body, then ripped and divided

I carved on my skin
(re)memories of present and past, out of rhythms and vibrations,
haunted, fibrous sketches of time, spread across earthmemory

Slavery, Internment, Reservations, and so many Wars and Occupations,
UrbanGhettoPoorYouthWomenColoredBlackLatinaWelfareTrapped
RacialSteroes
KoreaVietnamHaitiGuatemalaCiudadJuarezZimbabweCongoIraq
SudanAfghanistan

I see women of color, praying and organizing
I see women raising fists, voices, & pens against men, power, & state
I see women loving women, as radical, against these silences
(taking back my body)

odds & ends

2008-12-18T14:01:00.000-05:00

The end of a year & beginning of a new one bring much reflection. I have so much to be thankful for this year - graduating, the postdoc at NYU, and the time/space I've needed for my writing, research, & creativity these past four months in New York. And on top of all the intellectual activity at NYU that I've been a part of this fall semester, I've also been very fortunate to be in this amazing creative writing workshop with R. Erica Doyle for the past two months - called Tongues Afire at The Audre Lorde Project in Brooklyn.

I have learned so much... and I feel I have truly improved my creative writing, process, & craft in many ways. We ended the workshop with two readings, which were very inspring, beautiful, and powerful. I feel so grateful to have shared work and space with my brilliant fellow writers in Tongues Afire... I wrote several new poems, revised quite a few others, and started a new project, a collage / graphic novella thingy. I submitted a number of poems for review and possible publication. And I've been writing on my blog somewhat regularly, and one of my goals for the new year is to write weekly on my blog... at the very least biweekly. We'll see how that goes :) I will be teaching and so my schedule will be more hectic... but it will be hella cold in NY so I may become a shut-in outside of teaching and work :-)

I'm home now for the xmas holiday... enjoying time in the warmth, great food, and my crew of family-friends... re-connecting and catchin up wit' all my peoples... remembering all the things I love and being reminded of all the things that are difficult and painful... nevertheless, really happy to be home.

more musings to come & will be sharing some of my new poems very soon on this space of conscious vibration.

p.s. Two of my poems have appeared in the Journal of Caribbean Literatures (Volume 5 Number 3). This is the summer issue, but I recently received my hard copy of the journal about a month ago - so exciting to see my poetry in print! It is so very inspiring and also a much needed incentive to keep getting my poetry out there.

reality check on thanksgiving

2008-11-27T16:41:00.000-05:00

love this cartoon! It's funny, ironic, & flips the script.

So let us remember on this day, even as we enjoy time off, even as we spend time with our families, that if we live in the United States, we live on stolen land. "Thanksgiving" should be a day of national mourning.

It should be day that we remember the genocide of Native Americans, a day that we remember the Native American struggle and the larger indigenous movements (for land, rights, and resources) across the planet. This should be the time we remember... the history we may never know... and take the time to learn & read up on what we don't know.

in the struggle,
Angelique

on being invisible

2008-11-24T01:39:00.000-05:00

The last few weeks, post-election, have been intriguing & disturbing to me for a number of reasons: the blame game for prop 8 in California with Black people as the scapegoats; the media trying to talk about this issue but failing miserably (for the most part) & pitting 'Blacks' against 'Gays'; and the invisibility of Black LGBTQ people in these debates.

After I read Kai Wright's thought-provoking article "Blaming Blacks for Prop 8" on The Root, I immediately sent it to my friends and posted it on my facebook profile because I thought it did an excellent job of calling out both racism in white LGBTQ communities and homophobia in Black communities, while at the same time pointing out the obvious - there are LGBTQ Black people. I want to take this point further and not only support Wright's call for white LGBTQ communities to do a better job of reaching out to people of color AND also for Black communities to really discuss sexuality, BUT ALSO suggest here that we need to talk about what "civil rights" mean at this particular moment and at the same time deal with the reality of homophobia.

In order to do this work, we must stop referring to civil rights as what Black people have "won" on the one hand and what LGBTQ are still fighting for on the other. This makes it seem as if the struggle for civil rights (for Black people) is over - when this is clearly not the case - AND this does not account for people who experience multiple forms of oppression (i.e. for example, being Black, female, queer, and working class). If we talk about what the struggle for civil rights continue to mean for communities of color and marginalized groups around the United States (and other parts of the world), then we can build/create much needed collaborations (building alliances across difference as the great Audre Lorde says) and make spaces for people who exist in two or more communities.

To do this work, we must also talk about different kinds of oppression and highlight that all oppression is not equal oppression, nor do systems of oppression operate the same. Racism, sexism, classism, and homophobia are NOT the same. Certainly, systems of oppression are inter-connected and feed on each other. But there are differences that must be acknowledged (and privilege must also be recognized, whether it be white, male, class, light-skin, or heterosexual).

If we think about what it means for ALL people to be full and effective citizens in the world (and in the nations where we live), then it may help us to push the boundaries and breakdown the divides that separate us. We need to challenge ourselves and our communities to talk seriously about race, gender, class, sexuality, religion, and nationality. We all have multiple identities even if/when we identify more closely with one over another. And so we may (and will) disagree about many things in terms of our beliefs and ideologies. But is there a way for us who have common & progressive goals and visions for the future to meet, talk, debate, and organize? Let's say we want to fight for jobs, health care, safer neighborhoods, and good schools, then don't we find a way to work across the divides of say religion, race, gender, and/or culture?

Many organizations and communities do this kind of work - meaning set aside differences in terms of beliefs/morals/religion and fight for a specific cause or the bigger picture (human rights, social justice, equality). But this doesn't happen enough and morality along with belief systems can be mobilized to take away rights and work against equality. As a number of articles have pointed out in the past couple weeks, religion and various churches have played major roles in the passing of anti-gay legislation around the country. And some Black communities in particular tend to use religion (Christianity & the Bible) as the reason for homophobia.

So this brings me to some big questions: How can Black communities effectively talk about sexuality, homophobia, and same-sex marriage? (particularly in the face of more pressing issues of education, prison, policing, economic crisis, and the daily realities of racism)? How do we stop the silence and denial? How do we begin the conversation among people who have different beliefs? Can someone be Black, Christian, and straight AND be a LGBTQ ally? Can we all support same-sex marriage as a civil & legal right regardless of our religious or moral beliefs? Can someone be Black and LGBTQ and not "believe" in gay marriage? BUT perhaps still support it in legal terms?

How do those of us who are both Black and LGBTQ become visible? Do we have to be like Wanda Sykes and come out in public ways, meaning in our own communities and families? (Wanda is a celebrity, so her "public" is arguably larger than ours.) Can we be safe and visible? How do we talk about hate crimes and violence happening to 'visible' Black (and of color) gay men, lesbians, and transgenders? Why are so many of these acts of violence coming from Black men? And finally how do we talk about these issues in a diasporic context (thinking about the Caribbean and Africa - with different yet similar issues)?

These are the many questions and debates going on in my head... I have no answers, only more questions... hoping for open & honest conversations that will create and sustain acceptance of difference. I know it will be a struggle. And I struggle with how to be in this struggle as a Black Queer woman who may not be 'visibly' Black & Queer to most. I struggle with how to describe my feminist ideologies and beliefs that sustain me and keep me in the struggle for social justice, which includes an end to sexist, gender, and racial oppression. I struggle with how to explain that I believe feminism will save us as long as it is anti-racist, class-conscious, and queer. I struggle with how to fight against all that marks me as invisible and the fear of being visible.

Change... can it be?

2008-11-06T16:56:00.000-05:00

Obama said "YES WE CAN" and we did... Admittedly, I was a skeptic up until the last moment of truth on November 4th... as much as I wanted to dive in to the Obama-mania of the past year, I resisted the urge because I was scared. I feared for his life and his family. I feared for the ways in which his success would be spun (and is spun) as the end of racism. I feared that he would be a symbol of post-racial Blackness. I feared that he would not be able to live up to all the hopes/dreams/expectations we placed on him. I feared that he would have to give up too much to win the election. I feared that Black people would be left out. And my greatest fear - that poor working class Black people would be forgotten. Twelve years in Florida and distrust of an extremely flawed voting system enhanced my cynicism.

I had many fears and some of these fears remain in spite of my feelings of excitement and joy over this victory, our victory. The victory of so many people who came before us. People whose names are forgotten - our ancestors who fought and resisted slavery and colonization. Black men and women who refused to be treated as second-class citizens, who struggled for civil rights (along with white allies and other coalitions of people of color and other marginalized groups). But (as many voices have been saying) this victory cannot be seen as the final victory.

The struggle is not over. Social justice has yet to be realized. In the United States, 2.3 million people are locked up in an unjust prison system. Their rights are taken away, yet their bodies and labor are owned by the state. The United States is engaged in two unjust wars. Poor working class people around the country do not have equal access to resources and opportunities. Many people are struggling to get by. Poor communities and communities of color are heavily policed and criminalized. LGBTQ people and communities are also criminalized and in the struggle for civil rights. (Thinking especially about the hate crimes forgotten, with little to no media coverage, endured by lesbian/gay/bisexual/transgender/queer people especially of color, remember Sakia Gunn; thinking about the bans on same sex marriage across the country, remember California and Florida in this election - voting for change on the one hand and against rights on the other.)

Women of color, LGBTQ people, marginalized groups, communities of color, immigrant communities, and the working poor, working class, are too often pitted against each other. We are encouraged to forget/dismiss our common differences, to fight over the scraps and crumbs left over, to not see our similar struggles. And we forget that these divisions are not set in stone, often times we are ALL these, MANY of these, living in multiple identities, fitting in/to many of these so-called categories, boxes built for division, created to keep us separated, fighting (the divide and rule paradigm still at work).

BUT something happened on November 4th, not just in the United States, but around the world... I felt it as the election results poured in... I felt it when the Obama family walked out on that stage... I felt it during his speech... I felt it as I saw images of people around the world in celebration and in hope of all that is possible... I still feel it as I walk around the streets of New York in post-election bliss, the smiles, the tears of joy, the heads held high, the energy and spirit of this moment... (especially for people of color, especially for people who voted for the first time, especially for people who worked so hard on the Obama campaign and voter registration).

And so, I am full of HOPE and ready for CHANGE. "Yes, we can!"

As I resonate upon these hopes of Election '08, I feel like a believer now, I feel like anything is possible (at least for this moment, at least in the now). I feel such relief that so many people in the United States (born citizens and naturalized citizens who may locate home outside the U.S. but live in the U.S.) participated in the electoral process and made a collective voice heard - a voice that said, we are tired of the present regime.

As a migrant and newly naturalized citizen, this was my first time voting in the United States, and I am happy to say I voted for Obama... even as I critique U.S. empire and imperialism and see the hypocrisy in the so-called democracy of the United States' two party system and mystifying electoral college. I am over joyed that he won, and in spite of all my doubts and fears, I believe.

"We inhabit histories even if we do not understand or know them" -Angela Davis

I was fortunate to hear Professor Davis speak last week (Oct 30th) here in New York... and to be blessed/inspired/lifted by her words of wisdom (her voice of radical change). (Her talk focused on a range of issues - the election, race, gender, civil rights, citizenship, the prison industrial complex, democracy, abolition, and more.) She reminded us that no matter how much the election discourse evaded the question of race (and public discourse generally), histories are always a part of us; she said "they inhabit us." And we cannot disregard how much race has shaped histories in the present. So even as we celebrate Obama's win and the apparent defeat of racial barriers, we must remember there is much work to do.

Professor Davis said that we must shift our focus from the individual to the group, that we must sustain the energy from this election and hold our leaders accountable - push for the change we want/need. Let us not forget that the struggle for social justice and an equal society and world remains. She said, "Don't give up our collective agency to our leaders. Rid ourselves of the Messiah complex." In other words, we must remain active, participate, and BE IN this movement. And we cannot forget the problem of colorblindness & gender blindness - because we do not live in a world that is gender or color blind. She ended her talk with the refrain, "Radical Solutions are needed" and that we must say no to racism, say no to sexism, say no to wars, say no to injustice...

These are the ideas I focus on as we celebrate Obama's win (as our victory, but not the final victory) as the beginning of a movement for real change, a push for radical change, as the start we need to both imagine and create a radically different, socially just, equal, and better world.

with hope that this whisper of revolution transforms into a storm,
Angelique

the august escape & fall in new york city

2008-08-27T18:20:00.000-04:00

Okay, so I kinda missed august and dropped the ball on my response to part two of the hot mess that was CNN's Black in America on "The Black Man." Luckily I kept my notes and its been in progress. So here it is finally (even though it is beyond late) - just some food for thought and because it will be relevant to some of my future postings... But first, an update on me and my first month in new york city :) I successfully defended my dissertation on July 29th :) packed and moved in August... Strangely but not surprisingly I am missing da'ville... Mostly I miss my peeps, my crew, my community, but we're still with each other in spirit and cyberspace :)

(This posting date says Aug 27th cause I started working on it back then, it is now actually Sept 24th)

Meanwhile, in new york, I am settling in and adjusting to city life. Fall has just arrived and my tropic self is not prepared for winter. But since I have little choice in the matter, I gats to get ready... As colder days approach, I am hard at work on various projects and transitioning from graduate student to post-diss life and postdoctoral research and book proposal. It is crazy, but yeah I am finally on the other end, staring down the long list of more work, more reading, more research, and more writing that will be my career and life as an emerging academic... I am learning/adjusting to life after defense, actually being Dr. Angelique V. Nixon and what that all means, letting it roll off my tongue and hear it out loud and feel it and know it to be true... but the hardest thing is owning it... truly owning it. I am sure it will come with time, and so I am grateful for the postdoc fellowship cause it is giving me that time, as well as giving me time to work on transforming the dissertation into a book (or at least starting the process). I feel inspired by the move and very motivated to do the work. And I plan to focus on my creative writing as well.

I am loving new york city - it is dramatic, daring, and delicious. I am slowly getting the hang of things/tings. There is way too much to do, and yet I am determined to make the most of my year and do as much as I can. In a way, I feel remarkably comfortable in its streets, but at the same time, I feel out of place. Every day though, I feelin more and more in place, mostly on the side lines, driving forward and pushing through.

Part Two response (better late than never... I hope :) and pondering the state of the world

This is clearly late for my part two response... but I've been really busy... and now I am finally getting back to responding to the second part of CNN's Black in America, "The Black Man" - which was not quite as terrible as the first one. I didn't want to scream as much as I did during the first part... Nevertheless, there were problems (multiple in fact). One glaring problem, as with the first one, why is Roland Fryer (an economist) an expert on everything Black??? why was he back on part two??? cause he's also an expert on drugs? this makes no sense... I could go on forever, but I just wanna touch on a couple issues:

- Why begin this segment with crack stories and prison without context for the prison industrial complex or unfair sentencing laws that are racist or any discussion of the drug laws and how they were created.

(But at least they talked about unemployment and the fact that racism still affects Black men getting jobs, racial stereotypes, and fear of the Black man in the United States.)

- The “successful” Black man raising his kids as “white” - We need to break down this notion that Black kids who do well in school are acting white, and the other crazy idea that education is not a black thing. Why didn't they talk about the very long history of Black Intellectuals, Scholars and Educators in the United States?

- Like the first part, this one still had no analysis of issues of class or poverty; and again this notion that there are no role models for young Black men from "the inner city” reinforcing the pathology of "no Black fathers" or the looming question of the segment - “where have all the fathers gone?” - and so they compared two different families but never talk to the women/partners of those "amazing" men who stay in their families. But of course part two was only about Black men, so apparently no need to discuss Black women (even though they talked A LOT about Black men during the "Black women and family" part).

- The show continues to pathologize the "generational problem" of Black men not being fathers, which in turn reinforces all the racialized stereotypes of Black women and the "breakdown of the Black family."

I could go on and on, and let's not even start with the bizarre and highly problematic discussion of hip hop culture and contemporary Black music. I will stop here and just say that the show was inadequate at best and dangerous at worse -reinforcing racialized stereotypes and pathologizing Black people and Black peoples lives. We deserve better. We deserve more complicated readings and studies of our lives. We deserve truly diverse representations of ourselves that account for the DIFFERENCES that comprise Blackness in "America" and beyond (i.e. in terms of race, ethnicity, religion, sexuality, class, spirituality, family structure, and so on). (for example: The show in NO way dealt with Black migrants from the Caribbean, Latin America, or Africa - in fact, the show did not even account for Soledad's own identity of being mixed and Afro-Cuban.)

Most of all, we deserve to not be reduced to stereotypes and caricatures. Can our human lives have value, as the great Sylvia Wynter theorizes about, in a world where capital and money are the driving forces, not humanity?

I dedicated my dissertation "for the struggle, to be human, Black woman, and free" because this is what preoccupies me now - especially in these regressive moments where it seems people believe we live in a color-blind, gender-equal world, where we can't really talk about race or gender, not to mention class, sex, or sexuality - a world that is increasingly racist, sexist, classist, repressed, xenophobic, and homophobic but there is little to no public discourse about what these actually mean... I've been watching way way too much t.v. since I've been in new york (someone let me have free channels :) and since I haven't watched t.v. regularly in many years, it has been a "learning" experience... This has re-confirmed for me that public discourse and so-called journalists really don't engage at all with these issues. I watched "The View" the other day and the five women on that show (including Barbara Walters) could not define sexism... I knew something was terribly wrong at that moment...

more rantings and musings to follow...
conscious wibes from Angelique in new york...

response to CNN's "Black in America"

2008-07-24T14:08:00.000-04:00

So I watched CNN's special report on "Black in America" last night - the first part on "The Black Woman and Family" with Soledad O'Brian. I figured it would be problematic but it was worse than I had imagined. I expected it to be this expose on "Black America" and for it to help its audience (white America) to "understand" Black people better. I expected that it would be heteronormative and only deal with male/female relationships. And yes - it did all those things, while also perpetuating racialized stereotypes... But it was worse than what I expected because it was incredibly regressive in the sense that it re-presents the Moynihan Report (1965) as the way to understand the Black experience in the United States - with all kinds of new statistics presented in ways that continue to pathologize Black people and Black people's lives. Furthermore, Soledad fails to offer any analysis of her research or any social, political, or historical context for the so-called "struggles and successes of Black America." There are so many issues with the two-hour segment that it could take me all day to write them down and I'd still have more to talk about... so where to begin?

Let's start with the notion that marriage is the answer to Black women's problems: the single mothers in "alarming" numbers who have "children out of wedlock" (we were reminded of this constantly throughout the show - "70% of Black children are born out of wedlock" - with no comparative data to other racial groups in America) and the professional women who in "alarming" numbers are "unmarried and single." ("Alarming" was the key phrase of the show - perpetuating all kinds of fears about "those" single Black mothers and unmarried Black women.)

Problem A: So for the sake of argument, let's assume that Soledad and her CNN producers/writers don't mean ALL Black women, but since they traffic in generalizations and this report is framed as "The Black Woman and Family" - they are in fact lumping Black women together and the implication is that "Black women" in the statistics are all straight and want/desire to be married. Perhaps some of these women in the "45% of Black women have never been married" statistic are not straight! or they just don't want to be married! The idea that some women may not desire marriage and/or are lesbian/bisexual is not even an option. The implication then is that half of Black women in the United States are suffering and in search of a good Black man (who don't exist or are in jail), and when all else fails, they may have to (OH NO!) date outside their race - which of course means date a white man - not a Latino or Asian man, nope.. cause America is just black and white...

Problem B: Married Two-parents households are better than single parent households: the assumption that Black single mothers would be better off (i.e. economically and socially) with the fathers of their kids. Maybe these women don't want to be with the father of their kids. Maybe alternative family structures and extended families are working for these women. That is never explored and the implication here is that children of Black single mothers won't make it and are in the "achievement gap" between Black and white kids (again just Black and white) because they have no fathers and are poor. Then Soledad brings in Harvard economist Roland Fryer to share his "expertise" on educating Black kids... His "experiment" is paying kids to learn - and this "shows" that Black kids just need reinforcement (i.e. money) to do well. Roland says that Black kids in 'the inner city' don't have role models - and this is what they need to do well in school... (WTF!) First of all, this guy is an economist so why in the hell is he talking about education like he's an expert??? Second of all, there are many after-school programs operated by Black (and non-Black) people all over this country that don't pay kids to learn... AND there are many scholars (non-Black and Black) who could have offered more insights and real expertise into education and the disparities in the education system - for example, the show (i.e. Soledad during her ONE YEAR of research) could/should have addressed the lack of resources in schools, segregation that continues in the school system, teachers not getting paid enough, and the fact that the U.S. education system is failing for most kids not just Black poor kids.

As me and a group of my friends watched this last night, I asked the room, how many of us come from Black single parent households and earned college and graduate degrees... most of us raised our hands - because why - believe it or not, some of us are raised by single Black mothers and grandmothers (and fathers, grandfathers, aunties, & uncles), and we have role models in our families (single parent and all...) and we are inspired and encouraged to do well and succeed. And some of us have! On the other hand, this report implies that middle class and upper class children (from two parent households) will make it - as if there is some guarantee... which leads to:

Problem C with the show: lack of any analysis or critique when discussing class, socio-economic status, or colorism (among other topics they tried to address like Health and HIV/AIDS).

There is so much more to say... and there is part two tonight... so expect more rantings from me tomorrow or the next day...

please share your comments and reflections on conscious vibration.

peace & soul,
Angelique

Summer 2008 update

2008-07-20T10:39:00.000-04:00

It's been a long time... I've missed writing on my blog, but trust when I say I been writing... workin on my dissertation straight through since the beginning of the year... Last fall was hectic cause I was on the job market and working on the diss, and spring was insane cause I was finishing up the diss... and this summer - revisions... and now it is finished! or I should say ready for the defense, which is in a couple weeks. I feel very accomplished, but still thinking about the process and spending time relaxing and getting ready for the defense...

On to other updates - I got a job! a one year postdoctoral fellowship at New York University. So I am moving to NY in mid August - big changes and a major move about to happen. I am thrilled and still can't believe it... everything is happening so fast... somehow it will all come together...

As for my writing - even though I've been out of the blog scene - I have two poems coming out in the Journal of Caribbean Literatures very soon... and I've worked on a few and sent out for submission/review. So the writing scene has been okay - but most of my time has been consumed with the diss - it was an overwhelming process, and I learned a lot about myself as a writer and a scholar - which I will continue working on in the future... So as I wrap up the diss process and graduate :) and then move onto the postdoc, I have big plans for so many t'ings - there is much to write and conversate about! expect some entries soon in the coming weeks...

until then...

"Thanksgiving is much more than a lie" ~ my reflections 'pon dis day...

2007-11-22T16:18:00.000-05:00

Quick update on me: Somehow I've been too busy to write on my blog... but I've been writing, dissertating, job applicating, and working hard - another hectic, crazy semester - but work is gettin did and I'm on track to finishing up by next summer... meanwhile, here are some musings, thoughts, reflections...

I am sitting at my desk trying to work, but thinking about this "day off" - this so-called holiday - I know we are supposed to be about family/friends and be thankful... I appreciate this sentiment, and I do enjoy catchin up with people I haven't talked to in a while, gettin text messages from friends, catchin up on work, cleaning, and sleep. Yes, I am enjoying all this, but I am also thinking about what this day really means and how the history of this day is covered up and glossed over in favor of the happy tale of "pilgrams and indians" feasting together. And so while many people (generally speaking) know that "the indians" were killed, forced onto reservations, and their land stolen, at the same time these horrid realities are disconnected from "thanksgiving" and the nice pilgrams. How can this be?

Cultural and historical amnesia fuels this day. We need to remember that it was founded by Abraham Lincoln for the purposes of nation building. And even as we enjoy the much needed time off from our ever busy and crazy hectic lives, we need to remember and tell a more accurate history of this day.

We should do this because the "thanksgiving" mythology is so powerful that it continues to be held up as one of things that makes america great. But this america is founded on bloodshed, genocide, and enslavement, which began with the first settlers and their common practice of giving small pox infected blankets to Native Americans, and the first official Pilgrim "thanksgiving day" that actually celebrated the massacre of the Pequot Tribe.

Today, I read this week's Black Commentator Editorial, and it reminded me why I study what I do and re-affirmed to me why we must in the words of Audre Lorde organize across difference and build alliances among people of color. Please check out this article - it is long but very informative and contains an overview of the historical background of thanksgiving. It explains how the history of this day is rooted in white supremacy, genocide, and slavery.

Check it out soon cause it will only be available free online till next Wednesday: Black Commentator.com

In case you miss it, here are a few thought-provoking points from the article:

"Thanksgiving is much more than a lie – if it were that simple, an historical correction of the record of events in 1600s Massachusetts would suffice to purge the “flaw” in the national mythology. But Thanksgiving is not just a twisted fable, and the mythology it nurtures is itself inherently evil. The real-life events – subsequently revised – were perfectly understood at the time as the first, definitive triumphs of the genocidal European project in New England. The near-erasure of Native Americans in Massachusetts and, soon thereafter, from most of the remainder of the northern English colonial seaboard was the true mission of the Pilgrim enterprise – Act One of the American Dream. African Slavery commenced contemporaneously – an overlapping and ultimately inseparable Act Two. The last Act in the American drama must be the “root and branch” eradication of all vestiges of Act One and Two – America’s seminal crimes and formative projects. Thanksgiving as presently celebrated – that is, as a national political event – is an affront to civilization. ...

The British North American colonists’ practice of enslaving Indians for labor or direct sale to the West Indies preceded the appearance of the first chained Africans at the dock in Jamestown, Virginia, in 1619. The Jamestown colonists’ human transaction with the Dutch vessel was an unscheduled occurrence. However, once the African slave trade became commercially established, the fates of Indians and Africans in the colonies became inextricably entwined. New England, born of up-close-and-personal, burn-them-in-the-fires-of-hell genocide, led the political and commercial development of the English colonies. The region also led the nascent nation’s descent into a slavery-based society and economy. ...

The Thanksgiving holiday fable is at once a window on the way that many, if not most, white Americans view the world and their place in it, and a pollutant that leaches barbarism into the modern era. The fable attempts to glorify the indefensible, to enshrine an era and mission that represent the nation’s lowest moral denominators. Thanksgiving as framed in the mythology is, consequently, a drag on that which is potentially civilizing in the national character, a crippling, atavistic deformity. Defenders of the holiday will claim that the politically-corrected children’s version promotes brotherhood, but that is an impossibility – a bald excuse to prolong the worship of colonial “forefathers” and to erase the crimes they committed. Those bastards burned the Pequot women and children, and ushered in the multinational business of slavery. These are facts. The myth is an insidious diversion – and worse." - The Black Commentator, Editorial November 22, 2007 -

I'm sharing not to spoil our thanksgiving day dinners and such, but rather to share in the spirit of survival IN SPITE of all the forces that have tried to destroy so many. I am thankful that we (as in marginalized peoples, people of color, working poor, and indigenous peoples across the world) have fought, have raised our voices, and are still fighting and still raising our voices...

in the struggle... peace & soul,
Angelique