Day trip!

Good morning all!

I hope you all have a great day. Yesterday, I was sooo tired during the day. I seriously thought that I posted in my mind. I think what happened though is that I went to the site and then fell asleep before I got a chance to post.

Today, I am going to hang out with my Ra-Ra (Raquiyba). She has never been to Dallas, so we are going to hang out, eat some good food, and hopefully show her some sights. I hope to post later on today, but right I am off to take a much needed shower and get ready to roll!

Adventurous day!

So I just came back from hanging out with some friends from high school and we had a great time! It is so neat to catch with friends from the past and see the maturity that takes place. Not so much that they were immature in the past, but more so that you and their worldview was limited with the fact that your previous sphere of existence took place in a vacuum known as high school. Once out, the horizons are infinitely broader and I believe we are the better for it.

I rode my bike there though, because my car cut out on my Dad today as he was leaving his substitute assignment at my prima alma mater, Birmingham elementary. Once I found that out, I began walking from the high school to my house. It was a few miles, but I actually enjoyed it. As I walked though, I actually began to take greater pride in the feeling that I was continuing in the great tradition of my from different traditions united by the fact that through the ages they have, as my Grandma Franciel says, "done what they had to do or felt they must." Jews, Jamaicans, Native Americans, Africans, and African Americans, my ancestors in my family, had dealt with so much at the hands of their oppressors with immeasurable strength and resolve. How then can I do anything different? Yet, I cannot take glory in this for it is only Christ who has kept me mindful of sacrifices past and the glory yet to come.

We will see what happens with the car. I had the timing belt fixed last Spring, and this is what it seems to be again. It is a 93' Honda whose name is Journey and was given to me by my brother Rory Scott. The car has been beyond awesome, yet I don't want to unwisely spend money on a vehicle that might not be dependable anymore when I might be able to put that towards another with less miles. It is defintiely named Journey appropriately, because I have put over 30,000 miles on it in a year and a half!

I must run to bed now, but everyone keep your ears peeled for great used car deals and take the time to reconnect with old friends. It is definitely a breath of fresh air.

Short post...long day!

Well there was no work today during the early part of the day because of this snowstorm spanning across the majority of this great land. This morning, my car lock would not even unlock! So I went back inside and continued to work on different projects in the house. I even found the CD I had been looking for. Now I can turn in my books back to the Wylie library. They have been wonderful, and I will gladly pay whatever fine as they have been more than gracious. I have learned my lesson though, no more "checked out" audio books on long car trips.

I also made a youtube channel today, or at least I think I did. The site was still loading when I had to leave, so we shall see. Well I am off to bed, I worked this evening and then tutored as well. My student is really making exciting process, which gets me excited. Tomorrow, I will turn in the Teach for America application before I go to school. Until then...Jah Bless.

Poems, art, and early slumber...

Good evening everyone,

I hope everyone has had a great day. Mine has gone well, but I believe I am taking it to the house early as I am not feeling the best right now. In spite of my current feelings though, the day was great! I came out feeling definitely smarter as I figured out how to put a music playlist on this blog, so I hope you enjoy that. Additionally, I got to play around with my new logos completed by Michael "legend in the making" Manasseh by inverting colors and whatnot, and I think it yielded some cool results. His site is www.soulmana.com, and I guarantee, that whether you agree with his stuff or not, (I mostly do) you will be refreshed by his authenticity. 

Last but not least, I wanted to share this poem that I wrote several years ago, I shared it at an open mic night. Enjoy.

Lord, I’m not a man of science

Unless you count food and talking, of which I have a PhD. in both.

Still, I want to become well versed in a certain field of science

Where networks of grace envelop me on a daily basis

When I fall susceptible to falling from a solid state to a gaseous one,

I must rise again and become hardened through the enthalpy of deposition,

Constantly seeking a face centered cubic existence,

Forces are constantly dispersing everywhere I turn,

And the actions of Family, friends, media, and tradition seek to diminish my lattice energy.

But I must rise above the vapor pressure of my flesh, on to the freezing point where molecular shapes…….molecular shapes 36-26-34 no longer have the same effect on me that they once had.

So I continue to work out the equations of my life no matter where I am.

Kilojoules are glorified above virtue, and I am constantly on search for the mole.

Although he comes in various molar and molal concentration, his results are always of detriment no matter the mathematical operation that is involved.

Through Your power, existing in every phase and at the triple point simultaneously

My life is slowly occurring a transition towards the supercritical fluid, the end of the road in earthly but our life has really just begun.

I have finally surrendered to your ways, your laws, and enthalpy.

Because even through the haze and confusion of a heterogeneous mixture ,

I could see that I needed one thing more than anything,

The search is over and I will forever have

True chemistry with You.

 

 

 

Making good on the promise...my most recent Hilltop article

Hey everyone,

Hope you all have a great day, I am about to get ready for work, but wanted to share the story of my experience with the PG police a few years ago. Please note that I am not bitter, I don't hate cops; I am disappointed though with the fear that exists in many law enforcement officers that causes them to treat people as if they were less than. Just imagine for a second, if officers had shot a beloved generic pet such as a cat or dog 50 times what an outrage there would be with the masses; yet a young black man, Sean Bell, is shot 50 times by NYPD and it hardly makes a blip on the national radar nor were the officers convicted of any wrongdoing. Such imbalance is a daily reality for many people across this land, especially minorities; that is why I want to share this with you, that you make your own stand for justice and stay mindful of the struggle of people from every walk of life on a daily basis.

"Put your hands behind your back!" Five years at Howard and I had only heard the phrase aloud while I watched television and movies. Although aware of injustice against many young men who looked like me, I vowed never to be in that position by simply never getting into trouble. That night, I found out trouble finds you; and all too often it can at the hands of those who have sworn to "serve and protect." As black people, we are inundated with day to day news of our people being harassed by police. In the past decade, celebrities, professionals, and even D.C.’s former mayor, Marion Barry, have all experienced the phenomenon that has come to be known as “driving while black.” The weekend before my spring break would constitute a new experience, as I was caught “biking while black.”

*Taken from The Hilltop, Howard University's school newspaper


At approximately 8:30 p.m. on March 16, 2007, in Hyattsville, Maryland, I was approached by the police as I rode to the intersection of the Volta Ave and Rhode Island Avenue on my bicycle. I had just received directions from a friend with whom I was going to see her brother and his band at a local club. Once stopped, the officers inquired of my whereabouts and I informed them of my friend's concert and that I had just received directions. I was then asked where I lived and I told him the location of my residence as well as the school I attended. Inquiries about why I was so far from home surfaced and I again informed him of my friend’s concert and that I had traveled via bus and bike. I even offered evidence of my bus pass. He refused, and demanded to see my ID. I expressed my confusion as to why I was being stopped only to be given an elusive response that alluded to a robbery in the area but said nothing about a handgun. I was directed to sit on the ground, as he placed his hand on his gun. Given such a nonverbal cue, I quickly complied, and sat on the curb. He then requested ID and I offered him my Howard University ID, only to be told that it was insufficient and was commanded to produce my driver's license, which I did. As I sat there solemnly agitated, I told him that I would need his badge number. He ignored me and requested to search my backpack and of course, I acquiesced. I pulled out my phone and called my Mother so that there would at least be some other type of witness besides myself and the four armed officers.  As I was on the phone with my Mother, I watched him unzip my bag, pull out the contents, and literally throw them into the air on the windshield soaking my reading and school materials. I informed my Mom of this as she tried to comfort me by telling me to stay calm.

As a natural reaction to cold, and in an attempt to calm I put my hand in my pocket for warmth, then another officer told me to take my hand out of my jacket, and I did so. I was then told by on of the four officers to stand against the fence. I complied, and asked the officer for a badge number the second time. One of the officers exclaimed that I needed to “cool out or his badge number was going to be on my arrest record.” I told them that I was complying with everything that was being asked of me. As I stood in the assumed position, I was asked by one of the officers why I was on the phone. I told him I was on the phone with my Mom. He then said that I didn't need to be on the phone with my mother because I was a “grown man and didn’t need to be on the phone with my Mom and literally ripped the phone away from my hands while I was in mid-sentence. Upon their instruction, I turned around to see an officer pulling a kitchen knife out of my bag. The lead officer then asked what I was doing with a kitchen knife I informed him that I used it in my meals when I ate in my student council office, a fact to which my former staff members can attest to. (Amazingly, he never found the fork which was there as well.) I continued to stand there, in the freezing cold on a deserted street surrounded by four armed officers.

He told me to sit on the ground again. I did so and he explained to me why I was stopped. He said there was a call about an armed robbery in the area and that I fit the description. Quite certain that the ‘description’ did not include a black male on a bike with a Howard ID, I told him what they did was unwarranted and that they had no right to harass me, especially when they saw that I had no gun. I told him I would need his badge number. He said, "You want my badge number, go ahead and put your hands behind your back." I did so, and was arrested and charged with a felony, carrying a concealed deadly weapon. After being frisked four times that evening, I would be strip searched as well before the night was over. Thanks to the grace of God and fast thinking on my parents and Grandmother’s part, they were able to find the jail I was in. I sat through most of the night telling my story to countless others who were brought in on narcotics charges and others for domestic abuse. While I was being processed, the officers taking my fingerprints and mugshot could only shake their heads in disbelief when I told them what I was brought in for. I made calls throughout the day, the hardest being the ones to my grandparents, as I held back the seething anger and hot tears to the best of my ability. Although my bail was posted by four o’ clock the next morning, I was not released until five o’ clock in the evening. In the thirteen hours I endured of monotony and isolation, I reflected on how ironic it was that in all the places I had been in my five years at Howard and seventeen years in the Deep South, nothing even remotely close had ever happened. Yet, here I was, two months from graduating from one of the top schools in the world and I am here in this jail cell waiting to be released for a bail that has already been posted for a charge that didn’t have two legs to stand on in the first place.

Upon my release and my last two months at Howard, I learned several important lessons along the way. In my last semester at the Mecca, I sat in on a class with a giant in the field of African-American studies, Dr. Carr; One day in class, the subject of the police came up and they were referred to by some members of the class as “frustrated cowboys.” I was confused as to what this meant until this debacle. To be subject to the fear and insecurities of several armed “men” allowed me to understand what my favorite rapper meant when he said that “there’s a thousand Rodney Kings that don’t make the news.” It was in this experience that I came to fully know the truest meaning of family and friends. To be able to call on loved ones, knowing that they trust you, as well as the veracity of your account is a privilege that many do not have. This was evident in my great uncle waiting literally all day for my release without even a sigh of complaint. Yet in the midst of these lessons one stood out in front of them all, the in“justice” system that continues to thrive here in America. How is a felony charge levied against someone who has a kitchen knife and a fork in their backpack? What was in my backpack was no different than what many people have in their cars, not to mention the damage that has been done with writing utensils in fights. Adding insult to an already dubious situation was the masterful job of the arresting officer’s fable, also known as his police report. In his “account” he alleged that I refused to give him my ID (I gave him two) and that I tossed my backpack at him after I acquiesced to his searching my belongings. He said that it landed with a “loud metallic clang.” Now let’s get this straight, I had a full backpack of school materials, along with my dining utensils, (i.e. the “deadly weapon”) and was surrounded by four armed officers, yet I decided to toss my backpack at them after I already agreed to their search of my belongings? If you believe that, then I have several sandboxes on Miami Beach that you might be interested in purchasing.

To top it all off, two thousand dollars later the case went to court, but an actual trial never occurred because the officers could not produce the knife in the courtroom even after a recess was granted. So after I spent several paychecks to defend my future advancement after matriculating from Howard, the officers went on their donut break. It is situations such as these that have made me grateful for my time at Howard, for it is the core values that we hold so dear that must guide in all aspects of life. Leadership, excellence, truth and service must be the beacon that guides us day to day in all of our dealings with others whose light remains more dim than bright. This is accomplished through remaining vigilant and aware of the struggles that blacks go through, particularly at the hands of those who have sworn to “protect and serve.”

Perhaps a feature can be submitted in the following weeks detailing student’s rights when dealing with the police so that my fellow students might never experience my ordeal for themselves. For the time being, I will no longer ride my bike alone at night.

Regardless of your course of study, we as Howard students and alumni have an innate responsibility to reach beyond the confines of our dorms, offices, and the Yard and effect the world around us. As one of the top politically active universities in the nation and world, the call of justice and equality beckons for us to follow her and join her zeal and passion for all. This is manifested in our action through organized protests, financial support, or even in the thoughtful stroke of the pen. It is only in this manner that we can boldly proclaim truth and fully realize the fruits of our ancestor’s tears, struggles, and dreams. I thank the Hilltop for making the voice of the struggle heard in the face of opposition, duplicity and apathy.

Fam,

This will be one of my shortest posts...but I had to write something before midnight. I am working out a few kinks with my computer, but I aim to write posts on here everyday. Tomorrow, I promise I will recount my adventure with the PG police from March 2007. Right now though, I have to try and find this Lonnie Liston Smith song!

PC/MAC!

Today has been a good day! I woke up at a decent hour and went to Smith elementary, where I subbed for the music teacher there yesterday, to retrieve my phone charger, or so I thought. It was not there, and I was wondering where it was when I looked down at my grocery bag that I brought my lunch in that day, and behold, the charger was bundled up right there.

Whenever something like that happens, I like to say to myself, "I am more responsible than I thought!" However, I know feel that that is not quite accurate because I still do not know where it is until it is found, although I might place the object in a place where it should go. Keeping up with things is something that I have been working since I was in elementary school. And although I am glad to say I am making progress, something struck me a few years ago that I would like to share. Sometimes it seems like regardless of how hard you try in an area where a previous proclivity might have existed, you are still seen by many as that very thing you try so hard not to be. Case in point, today, I was leaving to go get fingerprinted so I could start substituting again in the Richardson Independent School District. I pulled into the Neighborhood Wal-Mart parking lot to get gas, (riding on 'E' is not cool!) and then I found out that I did not have my Chase check card with me. On one hand, I was disappointed to have to go back, but was grateful because I found out my mistake before I traveled further down the road. Additionally, I was going to need to need that card beyond getting gas because I was going to potentially buy the computer later on in the day. So I went back home, talked with my Mom briefly grabbed my camera bag, took it to the kitchen and set it down, then helped my Mom out to the car. I then went back to Wal-Mart to go get some gas, where I found out that once again I had left the camera bag at home! I had just moved it from one room to another, but forgot to take it with me. So I returned home again, made sure I grabbed the camera bag, then went back to Wal-Mart for gas. What a feeling it was though calling my Mom to see if I had left the bag in her car when I was helping her out; I mean I had just come home to grab the thing I had left, and I ended up grabbing everything except that. So frustrating! And in similar situations during my collegiate tenure, I could feel my family members thinking in their head, "Man, when is this guy going to change?!" In many ways they still saw me as a "loser," not in the Mean Girls/Clueless definition, but as one who constantly loses things. In spite of my progress, the past was the only thing present. My mini-fiasco took me back to those feelings, and it did not feel good; so instead of dwelling on it, I thanked God, got back in Journey (my 93' Honda) and went on my way.

The middle portion of the day was interesting as I finally made it back to my task list and went to go get the paperwork to get fingerprinted. As I was turning in the worksheet I had filled out, the lady asked me for my SS card. I inquired why, and she said because there was a line that said to fill in my SS number. I told her that I did not get it, and what did that have to do with providing my card when there was no verbage on the information sheet or the letter I received that said I needed to bring the card? For that there was no answer, but in a few minutes she somehow discovered that they had made a mistake and the form I just filled out was not even necessary! Grateful that it was resolved without having to show my truly firm side, I then called the number to schedule an appointment to be fingerprinted, and then they gave me an option to pay for it over the phone with my credit card. Well I have a Chase Leisure Rewards check card that gets points everytime you use it as credit. So I used that to hopefully get some points. Hopefully in these next few years, I will be able to use those points towards travel of some kind.

After leaving there, I went on to downtown Dallas to pick up that huge bag from the trip that I decided to ship instead of lug around back to Texas, and also drop off my brother Jahmicah's wheel. There is really cool place called bicycle farm in this loft where Jahmicah takes his bikes. Owen Weber is the owner, and a really cool and funny guy. So I dropped off the wheel and asked could I use his USB port to charge my phone. He let me, and as I waited, he was on the phone with some law firm discussing a bogus legal matter. Upon hearing of his adventure at the hands of Dallas' finest, I was indirectly reminded of my own ordeal two months before graduation at the hands of PG county's finest. I think I will post on that tomorrow. For although it is redundant to dwell on savage action at the hands of those sworn to protect and serve, it is important to stay aware. Continuing on though...

I then went to check out the computer, Rory had told me to ask the guy if I could play with it and see the features, and the guy insisted when I asked over the phone. So when I got there, I checked out the features, and WOW! It has an HD card reader, to play DVD's in HD, Ilife06, Microsoft Word 2008 and a bevy of other features. This should really help me cover new ground with my business so I am really excited. Plus, the thing is FAST! I should have it all set up tonight, so be expecting some new stuff here in the near future. The guy even gave me a slice of pizza and let me use my microwave to warm up my quesadilla...(random, I know!) I think I might go back over there tonight to see if he can recover my hard drive from my old pc for me.
Good things are happening!

Last but certainly not least, my Dad went to work today for the second day in a row! Now, for those who are already forming sundry opinions on why is that such a big deal, let me provide some background info. A year and a half ago, while helping a lady move her car out of the road, my Dad tore his Achilles tendon. Recovery has been slow and painful, but when my Dad picked me up from the airport, he informed of an assignment, and then told me he wanted to sub as well. My heart smiled as I knew this was an important step in recovery; and my Mom has told everyone about it. This was just as important for her, as it marked an important step toward a greater distribution of the finances, which she has been shouldering most of during this time. Jesus makes all things beautiful in his time, and I know my Dad has felt like crying and questioning God about why this had to happen along with three surgeries; yet as we worked together yesterday at the school, I was elated to his smile match mine.

Talk to you all soon.

Catching up...

So, I am trying to be more mindful and intentional about this blogging experience. One thing that will help is just keeping in mind the need to share my thoughts with others, especially those I don't get to speak with on a regular basis, and the other is buying a computer. I think I my buy one tonight. I spoke with my brother Rory, and he gave me some good advice,
(as he always does) as well as some things to ask, which I did when I called. This evening, I will go over and play with the machine and check it out. In addition to a consistent blog, I will also be able to further my thoughts on wax perhaps, because the machine I am looking at is a
PC/MAC. This is done through a dual operating system so I would have the choice of either running the MAC or the PC. Pretty cool, huh? But enough about that...

This past week, I went on a tri-purpose trip to the DC area. One was an interview in Baltimore, while another was in PG county, while the third was to sell my newest design. Before I can get to the experiences though, I must take you all through the thought process of making it all happen. When I received invitations from the two programs to interview, I was really excited for several reasons, one of them being a beautiful woman. (fellas, keep that at the back of your mind when it comes to these decisions please!) So, when I was searching for flights, I had a time of finding one that was within my price range. As a result, I found one that was two hundred dollars less than a Baltimore or DC flight by flying to Philly.

My thought: TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS! Wow, saving that money would be awesome, and I could use some of that for my t-shirts. This will be great, I just have to catch a bus from Philly to Baltimore and one on the way back.

That was mistake number one, as my Mom told me in so many words. Man, was she right! I confirmed the flight, only to receive a time that would put me there late for the interview. So I decided to just try to catch an earlier flight. The night before the flight, I stayed up most of the night continuing to clean up my house, (another many blog posts in and of themselves) and as a result missed my early flight. So I caught the next one, and still saw myself as ahead because I was still catching a flight that was before my original one. So I land in Philly, heavy laden with a gigundo (I got that word when I used to read my sister's Baby Sitter's Club books!) rolling bag that had a prevailing propensity to acquiesce to gravity, along with another bag that rolled, with a suit bag from marching band in high school, and a messenger bag.

There should have another bag, my camera bag, but guess what, I forgot it on the plane! Thankfully, my mind & spirit revealed that to me as I stood with my cargo waiting on the train. So I rolled my way back across the street to the American desk, and politely informed them of my situation, whereupon they politely informed me that they would check, but would have to wait until the current flight on that plane finished boarding. Politely, I waited. A half hour later I was leaving the desk with my menagarie of luggage back across the street to catch the train to then catch the bus to Baltimore.

While waiting, I called the printing company I used for my most recent design. Unfortunately, a mistake had been made by them in the printing of my t-shirt, which was almost negligible, yet accuracy is of the utmost importance when your name is attached to things, as well as when history is being made. So I had to try and rectify the situation, and long story short (I really don't want to feel bitter by dwelling on the past too much) my order, which I thought would be shipped out on January 16th, did not end up being shipped until the 19th, and I incurred shipping charges. I included that because that had a significant bearing on the conclusion of my trip.

But back to the train, it finally came, and I almost missed it initially because I thought the door in front of me would open, but apparently there were only select doors that were being open. This was brought to my attention by a yell of, "You getting on or what man?!" from the train attendant. So much for brotherly love in Philly! So I got on, or rather trudged my way onto the train, all the while with my huge bags and growing frustration, now that I had missed the beginning of my interview. I had called the program's office and left a message as to my situation while waiting for the train. The only choice I had now was to move on. As I continued on the train, I listened for when I should get off which I think was Market East. I should have listened better though, because I got off two stops early at another station with the name "Market" in it. After finding out my mistake, I sauntered back to the stop and waited for the next train, caught it, and then walked out of the correct station to Greyhound.

When I arrived at the desk of Greyhound, I was greeted with the news of my own personal inflation experience. My ticket, which was only $19.00, was now going to have a $10.00 fee for my 2nd bag, in addition to $15.00 for me missing my first bus. Oh, but wait, it gets tastier! The $15.00 fee had to be paid in CASH! I don't know about you all, but I am big on signs being posted, which weren't, I don't believe, present for the missed bus fee. I might have to drink a Monster and write a letter. (And for my fellow Bison who attended the Mecca during my time, you know I will write a letter in a heartbeat!) So, I paid all the bills I had, literally $14.00; yet the amount was not good enough, so then I paid thirty five pennies along with a few other coins to make up the difference. After that debacle, I then boarded the bus and traveled on to Baltimore. With the events of the day, my plans were thrown off in making my way to the school after the missed connections, yet it was still my endeavor to make my presence known at the school and at least talk to someone. As he often does, my brother Mario came to my rescue and picked me up from the bus station and took me on towards the school, and now as I reflect, the journey might have taken as long to get to the point of the interview as it was a greater distance than I initially thought. Nevertheless, after several misplaced turns and a little jaunt to a building which I thought was the school, but found out that is was not the destination as I observed Hebrew inscriptions at the top of the building.

When I finally arrived at the school the front door was locked, and I was about to give up, but pressed on at Mario's encouragement. I eventually found a side door that was open, and began to walk through the school calling out to anyone who would answer. I received none, and I was about to head down the corridor, I believe a healthy combination of trepidation and common sense spoke to my spirit, saying, "do not continue walking around this school," and, "why was that door on the side of the school open in the first place?" So I left my tough guy swagger behind, and exited the school. My voicemail to the program was never returned, and so unless another few hundred dollars comes my way just for me to go back and interview, I have missed that opportunity.

Through it all though, I learned a very important lesson; do not let price be the deciding factor when it comes travel if you could help it. I tried to save money because of my "uncommon sense" and additionally my pride, which came before my fall. I should have asked a family member for some additional money, and made arrangements to pay off the difference. Instead, I didn't, and had to endure the ensuing brouhaha with the travel, and then to add insult to injury, was only able to sell a few shirts because I was coming down towards the mall, the majority was leaving. My saving grace in this situation is first of all Christ's love in the midst of my screw ups, a prevailing awareness of world situations and how my economic loss doesn't even show up as a blip compared to the suffering of people around the world, and the fact that my shirt wasn't precisely an inauguration t-shirt, but should have a great amount of longevity and relevance.

The last part of my adventure involved my Clark dress shoes (I am in no way caught up with name brands, but i wanted to emphasize that it is supposed to be a quality brand) literally disintegrating upon getting out of the car. It looks like a vicious DC rat raided my closet in the middle of the night and just went to town on it. Nevertheless, I decided to try to make it work when I went to a dinner that Mario hosted; but that turned out to be just an attempt, for after riding around for almost two hours with the Special Police re-routing us at almost every other street, when a normal trip would have been fifteen minutes, we arrived as the dinner was concluding. At least I got to see some old brothers and sisters from the Mecca and glean some additional wisdom from them by listening to their story and also that of my stomach growling.

I think I am going to see about that computer now....bonsoir!