Just letting everyone know that I have relocated my blogging activities to:
http://stonecries.typepad.com
Come find me there!
Thanks for reading!
-Fred
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Racial bias and Gatorade AM
Before you read any further, watch this current TV advertisement for Gatorade AM:
Gatorade AM ad on YouTube
Most idle viewers agree that this is a pretty funny ad, but usually for reasons they can't explain. Myself, as a conscious viewer, will explain to you my reasons why I do not find this advertisement funny at all; in fact, I find it an indictment of idle acceptance of racial bias in mainstream media culture.
First of all, we can name all the athletes in the ad. Kevin Garnett (basketball) as the deliveryman, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar (basketball) doing yardwork, Mia Hamm (soccer) picking up the soccer players, a pee-wee football team, and Peyton Manning (football), running to catch his team bus. At first glance, this appears to be a very well-balanced advertisement. Three men (of which two are black), one woman, and children. But a few questions arise:
- Of all the characters in this ad, why is the only service position played by a black man? He was dressed up in a cute little all-white uniform (complete with hat), as a reference to a 1930's-1950's-era milk deliveryman. What influences the conscious decision to cast the black athlete so?
- The other black athlete, Abdul-Jabbar, is doing yardwork (spraying a hose). This is significant because at this point in the ad we have seen two recognizable athletes not being portrayed as athletes. So far, one black man is a deliveryman, and another black man is doing yardwork. Despite the fact that he is wearing a lavender polo-shirt, he is not representing his success in his sport. Why cast Abdul-Jabbar this way? Couldn't he have just as easily been shooting baskets in his driveway? You could argue that Abdul-Jabbar is retired from his respective sport, but so is Mia Hamm, the next athlete we see.
- Hamm is seen pulling up to a house where two current female soccer players are rushing out, presumably to either practice or a game. Hamm is driving a mini-van, the undeniable "white, middle-class soccer mom" status symbol. Why is she in a mini-van? Why isn't she picking up any of her black former teammates?
- Peyton Manning is our final celebrity athlete to appear, also rushing out of the house, presumably on a road trip with his team. As Garnett reminds Manning to get his playbook (which he forgot), you see the self-satisfied nod of a servant who has once again protected his master's well-being and best interest. Why end the ad with the only interaction being the roles of service position and served position solidified?
The answer to these questions has everything to do with the ever-prevalent racial bias still flourishing for all our eyes to see. Conscious casting decisions had to be made during the conception and creation of this advertisement. I'd like to give the benefit of the doubt to Gatorade's ad agency (which also holds Altria (Philip Morris) as a client, a company centuries deep in slave labor and share-cropped tobacco money), as most people who are not only tolerant of but traffickers of racially-biased material are not aware of how what they are doing contributes to primitive and dehumanizing thought patterns concerning subjugated peoples. But benefit of the doubt aside, one must wonder how Gatorade, the most powerful brand of its kind can let these subtleties slip by without a word of caution from media consultants who surely did not miss them.
Some are ignorant and stubborn enough to claim that Abdul-Jabbar and Garnett should have protested their roles if there really was negative association occurring. Maybe there is some truth to that, but I definitely believe that if I was a professional athlete with multiple endorsement contracts and infinite demands on my time, energy, and likeness, something like protesting my role as a black man doing yardwork in a Gatorade ad is not a high priority, if I even notice its potentially racially-biased association. So do not indict the athletes as perpetrators. Their roles were almost indefinitely chosen for them.
This ad is just one example of what exists in so much of our over-stimulating media presence bombarding our lives today. We miss these subtleties often because we are so desensitized to media frenzy that it is difficult to remain conscious and aware of underlying messages and themes in all the avenues through which we are exposed.
More to come on this issue, as through conversation I have found deep and genuine interest. Think about these sorts of decisions made behind the programming, as you watch television (especially advertisements, music videos, and news/current events programs), movies, and think honestly about it.
I'll be posting a piece about ESPN, and also a piece about BET as part of the Viacom group. So stay tuned....but keep thinking!
Gatorade AM ad on YouTube
Most idle viewers agree that this is a pretty funny ad, but usually for reasons they can't explain. Myself, as a conscious viewer, will explain to you my reasons why I do not find this advertisement funny at all; in fact, I find it an indictment of idle acceptance of racial bias in mainstream media culture.
First of all, we can name all the athletes in the ad. Kevin Garnett (basketball) as the deliveryman, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar (basketball) doing yardwork, Mia Hamm (soccer) picking up the soccer players, a pee-wee football team, and Peyton Manning (football), running to catch his team bus. At first glance, this appears to be a very well-balanced advertisement. Three men (of which two are black), one woman, and children. But a few questions arise:
- Of all the characters in this ad, why is the only service position played by a black man? He was dressed up in a cute little all-white uniform (complete with hat), as a reference to a 1930's-1950's-era milk deliveryman. What influences the conscious decision to cast the black athlete so?
- The other black athlete, Abdul-Jabbar, is doing yardwork (spraying a hose). This is significant because at this point in the ad we have seen two recognizable athletes not being portrayed as athletes. So far, one black man is a deliveryman, and another black man is doing yardwork. Despite the fact that he is wearing a lavender polo-shirt, he is not representing his success in his sport. Why cast Abdul-Jabbar this way? Couldn't he have just as easily been shooting baskets in his driveway? You could argue that Abdul-Jabbar is retired from his respective sport, but so is Mia Hamm, the next athlete we see.
- Hamm is seen pulling up to a house where two current female soccer players are rushing out, presumably to either practice or a game. Hamm is driving a mini-van, the undeniable "white, middle-class soccer mom" status symbol. Why is she in a mini-van? Why isn't she picking up any of her black former teammates?
- Peyton Manning is our final celebrity athlete to appear, also rushing out of the house, presumably on a road trip with his team. As Garnett reminds Manning to get his playbook (which he forgot), you see the self-satisfied nod of a servant who has once again protected his master's well-being and best interest. Why end the ad with the only interaction being the roles of service position and served position solidified?
The answer to these questions has everything to do with the ever-prevalent racial bias still flourishing for all our eyes to see. Conscious casting decisions had to be made during the conception and creation of this advertisement. I'd like to give the benefit of the doubt to Gatorade's ad agency (which also holds Altria (Philip Morris) as a client, a company centuries deep in slave labor and share-cropped tobacco money), as most people who are not only tolerant of but traffickers of racially-biased material are not aware of how what they are doing contributes to primitive and dehumanizing thought patterns concerning subjugated peoples. But benefit of the doubt aside, one must wonder how Gatorade, the most powerful brand of its kind can let these subtleties slip by without a word of caution from media consultants who surely did not miss them.
Some are ignorant and stubborn enough to claim that Abdul-Jabbar and Garnett should have protested their roles if there really was negative association occurring. Maybe there is some truth to that, but I definitely believe that if I was a professional athlete with multiple endorsement contracts and infinite demands on my time, energy, and likeness, something like protesting my role as a black man doing yardwork in a Gatorade ad is not a high priority, if I even notice its potentially racially-biased association. So do not indict the athletes as perpetrators. Their roles were almost indefinitely chosen for them.
This ad is just one example of what exists in so much of our over-stimulating media presence bombarding our lives today. We miss these subtleties often because we are so desensitized to media frenzy that it is difficult to remain conscious and aware of underlying messages and themes in all the avenues through which we are exposed.
More to come on this issue, as through conversation I have found deep and genuine interest. Think about these sorts of decisions made behind the programming, as you watch television (especially advertisements, music videos, and news/current events programs), movies, and think honestly about it.
I'll be posting a piece about ESPN, and also a piece about BET as part of the Viacom group. So stay tuned....but keep thinking!
Blackalicious show!
Hey all you wannabe hip-hop heads! Blackalicious is rolling in to town and playing a show at the Nightlight on Monday the 28th! If you are at all interested in hip-hop, come to this show. Perhaps you are like me and you already love Blackalicious and the Quannum crew. If that is the case, you'll be happy to hear that Blackalicious are bringing their own openers, which are probably up-and-coming Quannum artists. So come check it out! If you want a preview, I have a DVD of Blackalicious performing in Seattle. So come check that out if you want!
Tickets are $22, available at the Nightlight, Avalon, and various other establishments. You can check out the Nightlight's website if you want more info.
ALSO!!!!
The Nightlight just posted a show for June 15th! None other than GZA (the Genius) from the Wu-Tang Clan! If you aren't familiar with the Clan or GZA's solo work (start with Liquid Swords), then GET familiar! And them come to the show with me! Not too often that Bellingham gets any New York hip-hop.....
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
justice
"I don't have a minute to hate. I'm going to pursue justice for the rest of my life."
-Mamie Till
-Mamie Till
Mamie Till, in 1955, at the funeral for her son, spoke these prophetic and beautiful words to her fellow mourners and also to the unjust of the United States. She stood beside the open casket, where her son's head was five times its normal size, and spoke for true justice. Justice driven not through vendetta but by merciful grace and relentless concern for all man's well-being.
As I continue to change and grow, justice has, and probably always will stand at the forefront of what I am committed to and willing to sacrifice/restrain my own personal freedoms for. I hope that I can pursue justice in the same way that Mamie Till prophetically demanded herself to do. Look up the story of Mamie Till and her son Emmett. I won't post any links this time so you can find it yourself.
I deeply hope and soberly pray that we could all be so full of grace in our committments to justice and love. Life is a selfish and empty experience otherwise.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Gutterfly: the Original Soundtrack
Yesterday, Portland's finest, the Lifesavas dropped Gutterfly: the Original Soundtrack. I can immediately say that this concept album has not only a smoother listening flow than Spirit in Stone, but the production of the individual songs are far more complete. Spirit in Stone was like most debut albums for gifted hip-hop artists: a collection of excellent songs. With Gutterfly, JUMBO, Vurs, and Shines have given themselves the extra challenge of telling a story in film format, with only songs. They take on alter-egos throughout, but remain true to the essence of their hip-hop chemistry. Through only one listen, I heard references to Public Enemy, Tupac, Wu-Tang Clan, and many other lesser-known MCs. They don't bring in any other Quannum MCs which is odd, but they do have a wide collection of other underground stars like dead prez and Smif 'N Wessun. They even bring in Seattle's own Jake One to produce a few tracks, and if we know Jake One it is probably from his work on Gift of Gab's 4th Dimensional Rocket Ships Going Up, or his recent work with E-Real as Universoul. If you are an early fan of hip-hop this album probably wasn't made for you. I feel it was probably made for hip-hop heads, heads enveloped with headphones, hands busy scratching out hopeless rhymes, feet tapping to the snare. But it's great listening--so give 'er a spin!
The Lifesavas are celebrating their album release in Seattle on May 9th, at Neumo's. While Neumo's isn't exactly my favorite venue, the Lifesavas put on a great show (I've seen them twice) and it should be a ton of fun. There is a 21+ bar area and an all-ages area too, so everyone should come down with us and get crazy!
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
First Response to the Manifesto
04.16.2007
I've just begun reading An Emergent Manifesto of Hope, and already have been struck deeply--only one chapter and 32 quickly-consumed pages in. I sit, though shaking, in the East Holly Street downtown Bellingham Starbucks. They keep brewing Gold Coast, and I keep coming in to drink it.
Part One of my new book is written by Mark Scandrette ("a writer, spiritual teacher, executive director of ReIMAGINE"). He writes quite prophetically that as the Emerging friendship progresses, we must seek a deeper friendship than that which we've surely been left unsatisfied with. We need to have a more "Jesus friendship." He recognizes the mis-interpretations, mis-representations, and even the mis-givings and mis-guidedness of people who make up the Emergent conversation, while still clinging to the hope that their confusion, "lost-ness," and awkwardness will somehow bear a variety of good fruits in a world that we are all slowly recognizing is taken for granted and as a beautiful creation of God, deserves our true "Jesus friendship." Scandrette only skims over the current state that the Emergent conversation is born from and surely is a response to. This is probably best, bcause most of us interested are most likely critical and cynical to a fault. His no doubt conscious choice to move on with his submitted essay recognizes this over-critical nature of his audience, friends, and probably himself. I can only hope that any contributions and conversations I facilitate can do the same. Progress, in a progressive way, to the deep, tragicomic hope that Jesus allows us to have.
I have only recently felt interested in hosting "conversations" that cultivate a healthy, conscious awareness of how Christians are changing, and how we must change in the midst of such a chaotic culture. I am convicted to facilitate dialogue(s) among my peers that demand a more conscious approach to the language we employ to express our emotions, tell our stories, and flesh out our spirituality. Shedding language that contributes to the sterility of our faith can be the catalyst for shedding ourselves of anything else that deters us from a more genuine approach to God. I find that most of us are trying very, very hard to read the "right books," attend religiously the "right church," pray aloud the "right words," vote for the "right candidates/political party," have the "right friendships," the "right marriage," feel the "right way" about the "right controversies" and issues, pursue the "right degrees" that lead to the "right jobs," give the "right amounts" to the "right organizations/causes," and all with the "right attitude" and "right reflection" of God. That is just too much pressure. When submitted to that kind of pressure, one knows that he or she is bound to fail, and from that fear, we allow a shallow defensive pride to represent us to the world that we falsely accuse of pressing this weight upon us. So we tell everyone we know what book we read last (with little to say about it except that it was either "so good" & "you should read it," or that it was "not that great"), or that they should really come check out the church we idly attend, put bumper stickers on our vehicles that boastfully associate us with some politician we've never met (much less shared a meal with), subtly interject the fact that we tithe in to otherwise spiritual discussions, portray ourselves as missional renegades in money-hungry career fields, all the while casually sipping a latte, surfing the web, scrolling on our ipods, and feeling like we really ought to be reading our bibles.
We work and work and work, foolishly deceived into believing deeply that what God really wants us to be is tireless, relentlessly optimistic busybodies with an appreciation for our privilege but a secondary desire to share the privileges to anyone not born with such luck. True, serving out of conviction and the idea of potential shame is incomplete service. But perhaps we all need to start somewhere, and this is where the privileged class enters the age-old internal debate of what "service" is.
Do we know what God desires of us? Can we know, and translate that in to a tangible orthopraxy? Our bible only provides stories of how our ancestors responded to these critical internal wrestlings. We have to leave those in their own contexts. The only case in which we get to see an example of how God practiced life was of course, through the example of Jesus. Jesus responded to the Roman Empire and it's societal misgivings by having many conversations that sought manifestations of Truth, shared meals with the powerful & the powerless, and eventually accepted that his prayers and actions both would be held under the soveriegnty of his father, God. Jesus did not respond with pride, "right practice" alone, or monasticism. Nor mere criticism or righteous anger. Surely he employed these things in his time, but always understanding that all comes from God, and all shall return to God. So he refused to work to be right, and instead worked to honor the Truth by spreading it, one person, one meal, one conversation at a time. Let's look at this example, strip down all else, and let's do it now.
-hvc
I've just begun reading An Emergent Manifesto of Hope, and already have been struck deeply--only one chapter and 32 quickly-consumed pages in. I sit, though shaking, in the East Holly Street downtown Bellingham Starbucks. They keep brewing Gold Coast, and I keep coming in to drink it.
Part One of my new book is written by Mark Scandrette ("a writer, spiritual teacher, executive director of ReIMAGINE"). He writes quite prophetically that as the Emerging friendship progresses, we must seek a deeper friendship than that which we've surely been left unsatisfied with. We need to have a more "Jesus friendship." He recognizes the mis-interpretations, mis-representations, and even the mis-givings and mis-guidedness of people who make up the Emergent conversation, while still clinging to the hope that their confusion, "lost-ness," and awkwardness will somehow bear a variety of good fruits in a world that we are all slowly recognizing is taken for granted and as a beautiful creation of God, deserves our true "Jesus friendship." Scandrette only skims over the current state that the Emergent conversation is born from and surely is a response to. This is probably best, bcause most of us interested are most likely critical and cynical to a fault. His no doubt conscious choice to move on with his submitted essay recognizes this over-critical nature of his audience, friends, and probably himself. I can only hope that any contributions and conversations I facilitate can do the same. Progress, in a progressive way, to the deep, tragicomic hope that Jesus allows us to have.
I have only recently felt interested in hosting "conversations" that cultivate a healthy, conscious awareness of how Christians are changing, and how we must change in the midst of such a chaotic culture. I am convicted to facilitate dialogue(s) among my peers that demand a more conscious approach to the language we employ to express our emotions, tell our stories, and flesh out our spirituality. Shedding language that contributes to the sterility of our faith can be the catalyst for shedding ourselves of anything else that deters us from a more genuine approach to God. I find that most of us are trying very, very hard to read the "right books," attend religiously the "right church," pray aloud the "right words," vote for the "right candidates/political party," have the "right friendships," the "right marriage," feel the "right way" about the "right controversies" and issues, pursue the "right degrees" that lead to the "right jobs," give the "right amounts" to the "right organizations/causes," and all with the "right attitude" and "right reflection" of God. That is just too much pressure. When submitted to that kind of pressure, one knows that he or she is bound to fail, and from that fear, we allow a shallow defensive pride to represent us to the world that we falsely accuse of pressing this weight upon us. So we tell everyone we know what book we read last (with little to say about it except that it was either "so good" & "you should read it," or that it was "not that great"), or that they should really come check out the church we idly attend, put bumper stickers on our vehicles that boastfully associate us with some politician we've never met (much less shared a meal with), subtly interject the fact that we tithe in to otherwise spiritual discussions, portray ourselves as missional renegades in money-hungry career fields, all the while casually sipping a latte, surfing the web, scrolling on our ipods, and feeling like we really ought to be reading our bibles.
We work and work and work, foolishly deceived into believing deeply that what God really wants us to be is tireless, relentlessly optimistic busybodies with an appreciation for our privilege but a secondary desire to share the privileges to anyone not born with such luck. True, serving out of conviction and the idea of potential shame is incomplete service. But perhaps we all need to start somewhere, and this is where the privileged class enters the age-old internal debate of what "service" is.
Do we know what God desires of us? Can we know, and translate that in to a tangible orthopraxy? Our bible only provides stories of how our ancestors responded to these critical internal wrestlings. We have to leave those in their own contexts. The only case in which we get to see an example of how God practiced life was of course, through the example of Jesus. Jesus responded to the Roman Empire and it's societal misgivings by having many conversations that sought manifestations of Truth, shared meals with the powerful & the powerless, and eventually accepted that his prayers and actions both would be held under the soveriegnty of his father, God. Jesus did not respond with pride, "right practice" alone, or monasticism. Nor mere criticism or righteous anger. Surely he employed these things in his time, but always understanding that all comes from God, and all shall return to God. So he refused to work to be right, and instead worked to honor the Truth by spreading it, one person, one meal, one conversation at a time. Let's look at this example, strip down all else, and let's do it now.
-hvc
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Devendra + LB + Killa Bees = Kick-ass Bumbershoot
I was excited to read Bumbershoot 2007's partial lineup released last week! As always there is a decent mix of artists from various genres, including some of my favorites. Lyrics Born, straight out of Oakland, CA will be performing--here's to hoping he gets some of the other Quannum guys in the door, too--those could be some crazy shows. I saw him a while back at Neumo's in Seattle and he definitely is worth the price of admission.
Much to my surprise, the nine-and-only Wu-Tang Clan will be there. How many of them will actually show up o the day of is highly questionable, but for the reigning supergroup of New York hip-hop, I'll be happy with whatever I get. If you go make sure you are ready for some crazy fun combat rhyme slingin' and an even crazier crowd for sure.
Finally, I was actually happiest to see that Devendra Banhart is performing. The whole freak folk movement is moving forward as we speak, and it sure is fun to watch. Devendra is maybe the most visible member of the movement, but there is a lot of talent spread throughout. Another great band you could classify in that movement is DeVotchKa, and they're set to play too. So get down to Bumbershoot this year!
And remember, there's still plenty of more artists to be booked and announced over the Summer. You never know what could happen.
Check it out at Bumbershoot's official website.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Dr. West speaks
Most of you who know anything about me know that I am a big fan of Dr. Cornel West and his literature. It is always interesting for me to read a person's writings and also be able to see them speak their mind. The process of producing words is quite different when spoken and written. I have supplied here some links to some of the best short videos of Dr. West I have found online so far. God bless the internet. Check them out if you've got a minute to watch a brilliant man (and Toni Morrison, too!) speak on the essential.
-HVC
This is a 3:34 clip of Dr. West speaking about Barack Obama's accountability and his notable absence from Tavis Smiley's Covenant with Black America Conference:
Watch the clip here
This is an episode of the Tavis Smiley Show (PBS), which features Dr. West. It is 24 minutes, and they cover just about everything. This was my introduction to Dr. West:
Watch the show here
A one-minute clip of Dr. West with Toni Morrison, discussing Jesus as part of the Roman empire, and how his story is relevant to us, as part of the American empire:
Watch it here!
This one is a clip from the same seminar as the one above, and features Toni Morrison more than Dr. West, but a very important piece of understanding is shared, and you can see that even Dr. West is a bit blown away by it. It regards the American reaction to 9/11:
Watch Toni & Dr. West here
I hope you appreciate the videos! There are always more if you search under Google video. Most are longer, so I didn't include them this time. But see for yourself!
Monday, April 9, 2007
"I can feel the city breathing, chest heavin', against the flesh of the evening"
"The new moon rode high in the crown of the metropolis
Shinin', like who on top of this?
People was tusslin', arguin' and bustlin'
Gangstaz of Gotham hardcore hustlin'
I'm wrestlin' with words and ideas
My ears is picky, seekin' what will transmit"
- Mos Def (as Black Star)
Just over a week ago, I returned from my 5th and probably final INN mission trip. We spent a week in Vancouver, British Columbia. I won't try to retell all the stories I find relevant, or share all the processes I went through as a result of the trip, but I will share something. Regardless of how something changes me, whether I think it to be good or bad at the time, it is not for me to decide how I am changed, nor through what avenue(s). So I'll just start typing.
To be honest, I didnt' have a great time on the trip. It was the first trip I can say that I honestly don't think I had a whole lot of fun. Is that good or bad? Not for me to say. Maybe on my other trips I had too much fun. I found myself discouraged, frustrated, and tense most of the week. Maybe it was because I was holding myself responsible for helping Seth & Karen lead the trip, and that was making me think differently than I thought I would have to. Maybe it was because I didn't really connect & relate to hardly anyone on the trip that I didn't already have connection with when this whole thing got rolling. Maybe it was because I didn't really believe in most of the organizations we hooked up with while we were up there. Whatever it was, it was that way, and I don't think of that negatively now, a week later, but I sure did then. I was disappointed that I didn't mesh easily with the folks I was with, but that was probably because I was feeling like they just plain didn't like me. Which, even if that is the case, shouldn't bother me that much. I didnt' like most of the organizations we were with because they didn't seem as transparent as I would hope that I would have been. Some people had great connections and experiences with these same organzations, which is wonderful; however, I did not. There was one organization I did like an awful lot, but I will mention them later. So my week was met with unexpected challenges that I didn't anticipate or like having to work through.
I didn't connect with my team very much for several reasons, probably. It doesn't matter so much I guess, but I am curious about one in particular. Like I mentioned, I felt semi-responsible for helping facilitate healthy processing of the new experiences some students would be having, and I was happy to be there for that. I feel very blessed to have seen and done the things I have, and to be there for some folks who haven't seen and done those things yet was a true honor. Unfortunately, without my knowing it, I believe I detached myself from the group in order to be able to gauge their processes, and thereby isolated myself from the shared experience. So even if my teammates were trying to connect and share with me, I was indirectly rejecting them by standing outside the circle, looking in. My fear is that my teammates feel I was standing outside looking down, which is something completely different and not at all intended. In any case, I now feel like the ways that I tried to show leadership on the trip just probably didn't translate in to people's immediate scope of their process, and that despite that, I can just hope that any minor influence I may have had will hopefully contribute to the leaders they become someday.
A great example of that has to do with the organization that I really took a liking to. It is called Agape Ministries, and it is a group that works in service to the women of Vancouver's Downtown East Side (mainly E. Hastings Ave.), the poorest, most densely populated, "roughest" area of town. Every night people from the ministry walk in red jackets through the streets, handing out bags of candy and other sweets to the women who will take them. It is strictly a women's ministry, and the men know that they cannot receive gifts from the folks in red coats. The women though, wow! The women. They came running across busy streets, flagging us down, so overjoyed to choose between 2 or 3 little bags of "Fun Size" candies. As a man, my role was to walk behind/beside the women we volunteered with, and wait for conversation to be initiated with us. We weren't to initiate ourselves. The ministry does this ground-level stuff beautifully. Give a small leisure gift to a person who assumingly receives very little leisurely choices in her day-to-day life. I watched eyes light up like stars, faces brighten like a sunrise, tears emerge like a bursting dam. Happiness and significance is strictly commodity here. And Agape contributes! But even better than that, they talk to the women. They learn names, faces, personalities, stories, birthdays, anniversaries, backgrounds, prayers, everything. The women met every night can pray and be prayed for, can receive a warm and non-threatening embrace, and have a relationship with a person who for perhaps no understandable reason, loves them and affirms their humanity. Beautiful. Agape also provides resources to drug rehabilitation centers, safe housing, medical treatment, and most any other basic human need that they can help meet. They are set on affirming the women they know as loved by God, lovable as humans, and able to love fully and purely as women. Truly a wonderful, useful, necessary thing that is happening in Vancouver.
Well, that leads me to my example. Some of our students (or should I say, all of us) were pretty overwhelmed by our few hours spent face-to-face with the reality of the street life. As I stood and listened to one young woman talk, all I could think of was, "Wow. This really is the belly of the beast." Drug trade and sex trade run rampant and unhidden on E. Hastings. Most of our team had obviously never witnessed with their own eyes a sight like this. So naturally, they were responding purely on instinct. Being somebody who cares very deeply about the consciousness of language, my ears and mind were pierced by some pieces used by some teammates. For example:
"I never would have believed that I would go out in Vancouver at night and hand out candy to prostitutes."
"Why don't they (B.C.) make a food stamp program instead of cutting big welfare checks? It's just feeding the problem (drug abuse, sex abuse)."
"After talking to a few of the homeless guys, I realized that they're just regular people."
"Those people are just living in a different world than me, and I don't think I'll ever really understand it."
I held issue with all of these types of statements, and I did my best to graciously push our young team toward a more conscious way to express what we were processing and beginning to wrestle with. No, I don't believe we handed out candy to prostitutes. I believe we gave candy to women. We know their names. Why we fall in to the despicable pattern of dehumanization by confining them to a stereotype we don't even know is founded in truth, is a mystery to me. I suppose that as young, white (most of us) Americans, we are just raised to believe that we are inherently superior to any and all other people, and to prove it, we will classify every other person in to a subtly self-denigrating people group to make it easy for us to scoff at them. We don't even include them in our minds when we say "we". As I tried to stress these points to the team, I found a room full of blank stares and a few bored sighs. I asked that the team stop using the terms "those people," "these people," "poor people," "prostitutes," and any other inherently segregating language. I don't think it got through that day, or that week, but hopefully it will make sense some day. One thing I've actually learned through Starbucks' leadership training is that strong, effective leadership doesn't have to generate immediate positive response; instead, the strongest and most effective leadership is better gauged by the long-term. So I guess I just have to be happy with that.
So that is what I have to say about the INN mission trip to Vancouver, B.C. If you know me, you probably know that I am prone to wander off when bored and pace around city sidewalks alone. I did in fact do that quite a bit in Vancouver, whether it was known or approved by Seth & Karen, the official staff leaders. One time because I was asked to leave a church service, but all the others because I feel most in tune with the city when I walk it's streets. I used that great quote from Mos Def as the title for this post because I believe it to be true of myself. I walk in cadence with the inhale and exhale of the city, and hope to forge a connection with the heart of the city, by simply walking on it. In that sense, I suppose I can say that the trip I took to Vancouver was overwhelmingly satsifying.
-HVC
Shinin', like who on top of this?
People was tusslin', arguin' and bustlin'
Gangstaz of Gotham hardcore hustlin'
I'm wrestlin' with words and ideas
My ears is picky, seekin' what will transmit"
- Mos Def (as Black Star)
Just over a week ago, I returned from my 5th and probably final INN mission trip. We spent a week in Vancouver, British Columbia. I won't try to retell all the stories I find relevant, or share all the processes I went through as a result of the trip, but I will share something. Regardless of how something changes me, whether I think it to be good or bad at the time, it is not for me to decide how I am changed, nor through what avenue(s). So I'll just start typing.
To be honest, I didnt' have a great time on the trip. It was the first trip I can say that I honestly don't think I had a whole lot of fun. Is that good or bad? Not for me to say. Maybe on my other trips I had too much fun. I found myself discouraged, frustrated, and tense most of the week. Maybe it was because I was holding myself responsible for helping Seth & Karen lead the trip, and that was making me think differently than I thought I would have to. Maybe it was because I didn't really connect & relate to hardly anyone on the trip that I didn't already have connection with when this whole thing got rolling. Maybe it was because I didn't really believe in most of the organizations we hooked up with while we were up there. Whatever it was, it was that way, and I don't think of that negatively now, a week later, but I sure did then. I was disappointed that I didn't mesh easily with the folks I was with, but that was probably because I was feeling like they just plain didn't like me. Which, even if that is the case, shouldn't bother me that much. I didnt' like most of the organizations we were with because they didn't seem as transparent as I would hope that I would have been. Some people had great connections and experiences with these same organzations, which is wonderful; however, I did not. There was one organization I did like an awful lot, but I will mention them later. So my week was met with unexpected challenges that I didn't anticipate or like having to work through.
I didn't connect with my team very much for several reasons, probably. It doesn't matter so much I guess, but I am curious about one in particular. Like I mentioned, I felt semi-responsible for helping facilitate healthy processing of the new experiences some students would be having, and I was happy to be there for that. I feel very blessed to have seen and done the things I have, and to be there for some folks who haven't seen and done those things yet was a true honor. Unfortunately, without my knowing it, I believe I detached myself from the group in order to be able to gauge their processes, and thereby isolated myself from the shared experience. So even if my teammates were trying to connect and share with me, I was indirectly rejecting them by standing outside the circle, looking in. My fear is that my teammates feel I was standing outside looking down, which is something completely different and not at all intended. In any case, I now feel like the ways that I tried to show leadership on the trip just probably didn't translate in to people's immediate scope of their process, and that despite that, I can just hope that any minor influence I may have had will hopefully contribute to the leaders they become someday.
A great example of that has to do with the organization that I really took a liking to. It is called Agape Ministries, and it is a group that works in service to the women of Vancouver's Downtown East Side (mainly E. Hastings Ave.), the poorest, most densely populated, "roughest" area of town. Every night people from the ministry walk in red jackets through the streets, handing out bags of candy and other sweets to the women who will take them. It is strictly a women's ministry, and the men know that they cannot receive gifts from the folks in red coats. The women though, wow! The women. They came running across busy streets, flagging us down, so overjoyed to choose between 2 or 3 little bags of "Fun Size" candies. As a man, my role was to walk behind/beside the women we volunteered with, and wait for conversation to be initiated with us. We weren't to initiate ourselves. The ministry does this ground-level stuff beautifully. Give a small leisure gift to a person who assumingly receives very little leisurely choices in her day-to-day life. I watched eyes light up like stars, faces brighten like a sunrise, tears emerge like a bursting dam. Happiness and significance is strictly commodity here. And Agape contributes! But even better than that, they talk to the women. They learn names, faces, personalities, stories, birthdays, anniversaries, backgrounds, prayers, everything. The women met every night can pray and be prayed for, can receive a warm and non-threatening embrace, and have a relationship with a person who for perhaps no understandable reason, loves them and affirms their humanity. Beautiful. Agape also provides resources to drug rehabilitation centers, safe housing, medical treatment, and most any other basic human need that they can help meet. They are set on affirming the women they know as loved by God, lovable as humans, and able to love fully and purely as women. Truly a wonderful, useful, necessary thing that is happening in Vancouver.
Well, that leads me to my example. Some of our students (or should I say, all of us) were pretty overwhelmed by our few hours spent face-to-face with the reality of the street life. As I stood and listened to one young woman talk, all I could think of was, "Wow. This really is the belly of the beast." Drug trade and sex trade run rampant and unhidden on E. Hastings. Most of our team had obviously never witnessed with their own eyes a sight like this. So naturally, they were responding purely on instinct. Being somebody who cares very deeply about the consciousness of language, my ears and mind were pierced by some pieces used by some teammates. For example:
"I never would have believed that I would go out in Vancouver at night and hand out candy to prostitutes."
"Why don't they (B.C.) make a food stamp program instead of cutting big welfare checks? It's just feeding the problem (drug abuse, sex abuse)."
"After talking to a few of the homeless guys, I realized that they're just regular people."
"Those people are just living in a different world than me, and I don't think I'll ever really understand it."
I held issue with all of these types of statements, and I did my best to graciously push our young team toward a more conscious way to express what we were processing and beginning to wrestle with. No, I don't believe we handed out candy to prostitutes. I believe we gave candy to women. We know their names. Why we fall in to the despicable pattern of dehumanization by confining them to a stereotype we don't even know is founded in truth, is a mystery to me. I suppose that as young, white (most of us) Americans, we are just raised to believe that we are inherently superior to any and all other people, and to prove it, we will classify every other person in to a subtly self-denigrating people group to make it easy for us to scoff at them. We don't even include them in our minds when we say "we". As I tried to stress these points to the team, I found a room full of blank stares and a few bored sighs. I asked that the team stop using the terms "those people," "these people," "poor people," "prostitutes," and any other inherently segregating language. I don't think it got through that day, or that week, but hopefully it will make sense some day. One thing I've actually learned through Starbucks' leadership training is that strong, effective leadership doesn't have to generate immediate positive response; instead, the strongest and most effective leadership is better gauged by the long-term. So I guess I just have to be happy with that.
So that is what I have to say about the INN mission trip to Vancouver, B.C. If you know me, you probably know that I am prone to wander off when bored and pace around city sidewalks alone. I did in fact do that quite a bit in Vancouver, whether it was known or approved by Seth & Karen, the official staff leaders. One time because I was asked to leave a church service, but all the others because I feel most in tune with the city when I walk it's streets. I used that great quote from Mos Def as the title for this post because I believe it to be true of myself. I walk in cadence with the inhale and exhale of the city, and hope to forge a connection with the heart of the city, by simply walking on it. In that sense, I suppose I can say that the trip I took to Vancouver was overwhelmingly satsifying.
-HVC
Monday, March 12, 2007
LB/Coup/AbCreole = hip-hop
On Saturday, March 3rd, I saw one of the better hip-hop- shows I've been lucky enough to see. Two of my favorite artists at the same show! Quite a steal for $17. I've been listening to the Coup for 10+ years now, after I got their second album, Genocide & Juice. Lyrics Born I have gotten to know through the Quannum crew. I have all their releases except the Coup's Kill My Landlord, their hard-as-hell-to-find first LP. Opening for them was Abyssinian Creole, the two-man team of Seattle legend Gabriel Teodros and Brooklyn emcee Khingz Makoma. Gabriel is a recent addition to the Massline Media crew, hooking up with the Blue Scholars and Common Market. I saw all three of these artists perform on WWU's campus last fall, and all three rocked pretty hard.
AbCreole set things off right--some crazy storytelling and much political inflammation laced in to smart, jazz-induced beats. I'm not sure who does the production for AbCreole, but it sounds like the NW for sure. Gabriel is a gifted storyteller with a lot to say. Khingz Makoma has some crazy energy and has a lot of fun rocking a mic. Get your hands on Gabriel's brand new release Lovework if you want to learn something, and have some fun while you're doing it.
The second group up was the Coup--let me just mention that I've been waiting to see Boots step on stage in front of me for 10 years now. He is one of the most intelligent and strong-willed emcees (dare I say) ever; and besides that, he's a gifted lyricist and one funky badass man. The Coup is made up of Boots and his DJ, Pam the Funktress. Pam doesn't tour, so Boots brought along a 3-piece band (electric guitar, bass, drums) that had so much energy sometimes it looked like they would spontaneously combust. They ran through almost all the tracks from their newest release Pick A Bigger Weapon, but also picked up some of the best tracks from Party Music, Steal This Album, and ended the show with the classic "Fat Cats, Bigga Pimps" off of Genocide & Juice. The Coup is straight up funk-induced, bass-heavy, high-energy, Oakland/Bay area (civil disobedience--"I'm from the land where the Panthers grew/you know the city and the avenue"), pro-Black love, vicious lyricism. They mince no words and pull no punches. The Coup is absolutely necessary for hip-hop, and subsequently, America.
After the Coup rocked my world (and my eardrums), the one-and-only Tom Shimura aka. Lyrics Born took the stage with the touring band he's assembled: electric guitar, keyboards, drums, and a rock-star bassist. LB (like the rest of the Quannum crew) is known for his infinite amount of energy to get the crowd up when he blesses the mic. Not just an emcee, not just a singer, not just a beatmaker, LB is a super versatile artist who keeps you interested through an entire album, or in this case, live show. His first album Later That Day.... almost transports you to the San Francisco/Berkeley part of the bay. The cooled-out funk and soulful lyricism just takes you back (if you've been there, you know what I'm saying). His second album, Same Shit, Different Day, is a partial remix album with new tracks intertwined in. He mixed up his set mostly, playing songs from both recordings, and also a couple of tracks he recorded with Lateef the Truth Speaker, as the legendary Bay area connection Latyrx. LB's got a live album out now called Overnite Encore, which has a show he did in Australia and a few new tracks. It's worth picking up if you like his first two albums. All that I heard about LB's live show was true. Crazy energy, he mixes it up, and of course his tracks sound great live, which is something you don't always find. His band was really talented as you could tell, and his young bassist nearly stole the show. LB also brought up Joyo Velarde, a solo singer signed to Quannum Projects, and their chemistry was great. You can see she shares the same sense of humor but profound sense of self that makes all the Quannum guys great.
The only thing left to mention is that Neumo's, the venue in Seattle, BLOWS. It's a big awkward room with no real great sight lines, and it's basically a hole in the ground off Broadway and Pike. If you have to make a decision between a show there or elsewhere, take your chances elsewhere. It didn't feel like a show, it felt like a big converted basement with bigass speakers.
So check out Lyrics Born, definitely check out the Coup (that is, if you want to get smarter....find out some of the 5 million ways to kill a c.e.o., for example), and don't check out Neumo's. Give AbCreole some love too. Peace.
-hvc
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Captain Sidepart
This is a picture of my short-lived bowl cut (03/08/07-03/09/07). There are more views of it on my facebook page if you are interested. I had been promising to do this for the last year and a half, as a throwback to my middle school years. I hope you enjoy it. I know I don't.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
"Black Gold" documentary review
On Thursday, February 22nd, I was lucky enough to view the documentary Black Gold, a film that features farmers of some of the best coffee in the world. The film played at the Pickford, as part of the 10-day Bellingham Human Rights Film Festival. For more info about either, click on their names, which are links to their respective websites.
Black Gold follows a man named Tadesse Meskela, who works as a respresentative and lobbyist for the Oromia Coffee Farmers Co-Operative Union. His mission is to lobby exporters for a more fair price for the quality coffee that his farmers produce. The Oromia Co-op serves over 74,000 coffee farmers; who, as the film exposes, can barely survive on the income they receive for their product. One farmer interviewed claimed that a surveyor visited one season and established a price of .75 birr (08 cents) per kilo of green coffee, without any negotiation, and that was what he was forced to accept for his coffee. The average price for a kilo of coffee purchased from the Oromia region at the time was 2-3 birr. The average retail price for that same kilo of coffee here in the U.S. is 2000 birr. By that time the green coffee will have travelled through several channels: Processing, Importing, Roasting, Packaging/Distributing, Retailing. The farmer sees the smallest percentage of income in this process. Part of Tadesse's plan is to eliminate parts of this equation--if he can sell directly to Roasters, his farmers can receive the percentage of income that would have been claimed by importers--or if retailers Import and Roast their own coffee, then that eliminates half of the process. It was apparent that the farmers were absolutely not receiving a fair price for their coffee, as they could not clothe, feed (cleanly & healthily), and educate their families based on their wage.
Why does this happen? If one here in the states pays $3 for a latte that has 2 shots of espresso in it, that is only about 100 beans--or approximately 15 grams of coffee, why is the cutback to the farmers so low? Each cup of brewed coffee requires even less coffee, but we still pay between $1.20-$2.00 for it. The film accredits unfair distribution of profit to the lopsided format to the World Trade Organization. I agree with this completely. When the WTO convenes, delegates are sent from each negotiating union. Unions are required to finance their delegates participation, so as a result, richer unions can send more delegates, and poorer ones can send less. For example, the European Union sends 650 delegates, while the African union sends 11. This means that when negotiations and trade decisions are all happening in hundreds (maybe thousands) of closed-door meetings, the African union is unable to represent itself at the same scale that the European Union can. If one continent can only participate in 1/6 of the meetings that another union can, then they are obviously crippled by their logistical disadvantage. Many African delegates are fighting for a more fair system of negotiation in the WTO, but so far to little avail. Currently, Africa as an entire continent only participates in just over 1% of all global trade. If this were to merely double to 2%, it would garner over $70 billion in income yearly--which is over 5 times what the entire continent receives yearly in international federal aid. One delegate for the African union said, "Africa needs aid. But to sustain, Africa does not need aid. It needs trade." This was a focus that I did not expect from the film.
As a Starbucks employee, I was obviously curious about how the film would portray Starbucks, both as an exporter of Ethiopian coffee, and a western socio-cultural icon of gourmet coffee products. As an exporter, I believe they did an accurate and fair portrayal. Most consumers don't know that Starbucks really only purchases about 2% of all global coffee production each year, and only about 10-15% of our purchases come from Africa, and an even smaller percentage from Ethiopia specifically. We are not a major player, especially in Africa. Our main focus is in Latin America, where we purchase over 75% of our coffee. The film acknowledges accurately that the major heavyweights of coffee buyers are Kraft (Maxwell House, Yuban, Gevalia), Nestle (Nescafe), Procter & Gamble (Folgers, Millstone), and Sara Lee (Senseo). Lest we forget that coffee was an international phenomenon long before the U.S. took hold as a major consumer, and that many European brands import significant percentages of global coffee production as well. The U.S. is a relatively new major competitor, only as recently as the last 1980's beginning to play an influential role in purchasing and pricing. Starbucks is becoming more and more of an international icon, but is only slowly growing in it's need to purchase more coffee. Tea is a major focus in many of Starbucks new markets, especially in southern Asia and South America. So Starbucks was respresented accurately as an Exporter in the film.
Culturally, the film threw it's tongue-in-cheek barbs at Starbucks, constantly juxtaposing the love for coffee that the Ethiopian farmers have with the selfish and careless attitudes of many Starbucks consumers, armed with purses, shopping bags, and 24-oz. caramel frapuccinos. Not much love for coffee in those images. The film also shows the original Starbucks store on Pike Place, with the store manager and a barista talking and leading a coffee tasting. The two partners were painfully over-the-top with their presentation, and represented much of what is criticizable about the evolving Starbucks experience: lack of knowledge regarding cultivation of their product, a seemingly artificial demeanor, and a general sense of corporate machinery at its worst. I didn't disagree with any of what I saw; in fact, I appreciated it. Starbucks does not hire based on how much one wants to learn about the industry and what the company is doing as a part of it. Starbucks retail stores hire people who will create a customer desire-focused environment, and appeal to a low denominator of social interaction that satisfies basic human insecurity by affirming vapid and empty behavior patterns. I hope that if I were the partner who was featured in the film, I would have represented the company in a more positive light, especially for the fact that my curiosity with Starbucks has very little to do with consumer appeal, and much more to do with corporate responsibility.
The coffee industry, like any other inter-continental industry, is structurally flawed. Why? Because it is run by humans. Humans are selfish, inconsiderate, and insatiable. Some of the humans in the industry are so selfish that they will discourage a fair trading system, while other humans' selfishness is the only thing keeping their families alive. Many people want to know what they can do. For most, the popular choice is to only purchase Fair Trade Certified Coffee. I think that's a great plan; however, you need to be educated about what you are buying. For instance, in 2005, the average NYSE trading price for a pound of green coffee was $1.20. Fair Trade Certified coffee went for $1.26. Starbucks' average price paid on the market was $1.28. Does that mean they paid $1.28 everywhere in the world for each pound of coffee they purchased? No, like everyone else, they paid what the market decided. But just buying Fair Trade Certified coffee will in general mostly serve more one's desire to feel good about their purchases than it does for the actual cultivators of one's pruchased products. If you are considering different brands of coffee, find out what they are paying for their green coffee, relate that to the regional averages, and then purchase. Buying Fair Trade coffee for the sake of buying Fair Trade coffee is, I dare to say, just as ignorant as not buying it at all.
One must also consider what it means to be Fair Trade Certified. You can go to Transfair USA's website to see what they say about certification requirements, but you should also know that it is a quite lengthy and expensive process for farmers or co-operative to become certified, and it is just not worth it most of the time. In Latin America, it can cost up to $30,000 USD to be certified initially, and a bi-annual renewal of certification can cost up to $15,000 USD. The fact that less than 2% of the coffee in the world is Fair Trade certified indicates (to me, at least) that being certified just doesn't benefit the farmer enough to be willing to spend that kind of time and money. Just for fun, I'll let you know that Starbucks happens to be the largest importer of Fair Trade certified coffee in North America, purchasing about 21% of North America's Fair Trade coffee, or about 10% of all global production (11.5 million pounds, or 5.2 million kilos). So the consumer, once again, needs to be more educated before he or she becomes an advocate for a product or product-related buzzword that he or she in all actuality knows very little about.
All in all, the film was excellent. The filmmakers covered everything--the Ethiopian farmers' living conditions, the love they have for their coffee, the general selfish apathy about coffee that the entire western world has for coffee (the film also shows footage from an Italian espresso bar and the World Barista Championships held in Seattle), the unfair lopsided trade system, and the need for a more fair system which can be achieved by a more educated and willing consumer base that cares for human rights and corporate responsibility. If they ever release it on DVD, go ahead and rent it. Otherwise, if you feel a need to make a more responsible decision about your coffee consumption, make a genuine attempt to learn. Here are a few places you can check out:
Transfair USA
Starbucks' Corporate Social Responsibility Site (Starbucks' Annual CSR report will be published in late March and will subsequently be available online at that time)
Global Exchange
Stay tuned for more of my research findings regarding Fair Trade, "ethical" shopping practices, and corporate responsibility.
Meanwhile, engage, educate, and enjoy.
Meanwhile, engage, educate, and enjoy.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Lifesavas show!
The Lifesavas played a show at the Nightlight here in Bellingham on Friday, February 23rd. I must say that the Lifesavas might be my favorite Quannum Projects group to see live. Blackalicious, Pigeon John, and Lyrics Born all have crazy energy, but I think I connect the most with the Lifesavas performance style and lyrical themes.
Opening for the Lifesavas were two Seattle hip-hop legends! First was Universoul, the newest project taken on by the one and only E-Real, formerly of the foremost underground Seattle hip-hop crew, Black Anger. E-Real speaks from the perspective of the Black American Working-Class Male, and voices the frustration of a trapped proletariat. His presence was felt as soon as his lyrical viciousness started pumping out. As E-Real put it though, he is now 32 years old and feels that he should give up his street name and start to be known by his given name, Asim. So, call him Asim.
After Asim got things started off right, the one and only Boom Bap Project took the stage, 2 MC's and 1 DJ, my favorite hip-hop formula. Three fellas who I always thought were black turned out to be everything but. So that was weird. Boom Bap kicked some crazy rhyme patterns (though mostly not understandable at first listen), and had really strong presence. Destro would fly all over the stage and get in people's faces, while Karim would just flow crazy and wave his big belly around. A lot of fun. I picked up their album Reprogram at the show, to accompany their first LP, Circumstance Dictates.
Finally the Lifesavas took the stage. I had seen them once before, at the legendary 4/20 show at the Showbox last Spring (w/PJ, Fatlip, & Blackalicious w/Lateef), and was blown away by them then. The Lifesavas weren't even on tour this time--Vursatyl & DJ Rev. Shynes came up from Portland, and Jumbo (the Garbageman) flew in from the Bay area just to play this one show. I actually ran in to them a couple hours before the show in Fred Meyer and well, that just made me excited.
They kicked off the show with a couple familiar songs from their album Spirit in Stone, and then went right in to songs off their brand-new album "Gutterfly," due out April 24th. I must say that their new music sounds Incredible--they are definitely creating more complete tracks since their debut. Vursatyl is what his name says he is: a very, very versatile MC. He has an infinite number of rhyme patterns, and he can use them to say anything he chooses. He possesses of my favorite MC qualities: in just 2 bars, he can make you want to laugh, cry, change, and dance, all at once. He is a real big guy and holds his presence hard. Jumbo is both an MC and a producer, and you can tell that he knows the structure of his music and sticks to it hard. His rhyme styles are more structured than Vursatyl's, but less creative. Nonetheless, he still speaks a lot of truth in every line. Jumbo's presence is probably what captivates me to the Lifesavas' shows the most. You can tell he has so much respect for hip-hop music, and couldn't live any other life than the one he's living now. Vursatyl's love for hip-hop is also blatant, and seeing that in them is inspiring.
After some old songs, some new songs, and some crazy songs, they finally talked a bit about their stances politically regarding the Iraq war. They have family there and are told that the U.S. presence there is unnecessary and disruptive, and that we need to pull out as soon as possible. That garnered much cheering and led smoothly in to what is probably my favorite song of theirs, "Resist." ("Take a risk! Raise your fist!") They ended the show with basically that and a little live thing they do to show off their DJ, Rev. Shynes. They killed the show and bounced out right after.
If you are looking around at hip-hop that is real, and is searching for truth, the Lifesavas are it. The Portland trio is a lyrically (and sonically) gifted crew with crazy energy and can bless the stage with the best of them. Check 'em out.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Some truth from Mr. West
"since the end of the postwar economic boom, certain strategies have been intensified to stimulate consumption, especially strategies aimed at american youth that project sexual activity as instant fulfillment and violence as the locus of machismo identity. this market activity has contributed greatly to the disorientation and confusion of american youth, and those with less education and fewer opportunities bear the brunt of this cultural chaos. ought we to be surprised that black youths isolated from the labor market, marginalized by decrepit urban schools, devalued by alienating ideals of euro-american beauty, and targeted by an unprecedented drug invasion exhibit high rates of crime and teenage pregnancy?my aim is not to provide excuses for black behavior or to absolve blacks of personal responsibility. but when the new black conservatives accent black behavior and responsibility in such a way that the cultural realities of black people are ignored, they are playing a deceptive and dangerous intellectual game with the lives and fortunes of disadvantaged people. we indeed must criticize and condemn immoral acts of black people, but we must do so cognizant of the circumstances into which people are born and under which they live."
-c. west
This is an excerpt from Cornel West's Race Matters, which I am nearly finished reading and will forever be trying to understand. Cornel first struck my attention when I saw him being interviewed on The Tavis Smiley Show (which, if you haven't watched, you should--check PBS), and has not lost it yet; indeed, not even a bit. His shrewd words give me chills--how much truth he speaks in the most abrasive of issues. He holds every man and woman accountable for the disadvantages and and misdirection of any other fellow man and woman. He transcends the race issue but buries himself in it. For most of us reading this, we were born and raised upper-middle class white suburban, maybe some minor circumstantial hardship along the way, but nothing we couldn't work our way out of. If you want to know how the rest of the world operates, West is a good man to get you started. I love how this literature can be tied in to the work of some of my favorite hip-hop artists: Mos Def, Common, Talib Kweli, Blackalicious, Pigeon John, Lateef the Truth Speaker, Soul Position--these fellas address the same issues West does, just in a different arena. Skeptical? Check for yourself and you will find that the skepticism only comes from a lust for comfortability in opinion rather than a genuine desire for truth. Peace.
-hvc34
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
"Busted"
The story of my life, caught on film:
Watch "Busted" on YouTube
Sorry, I couldn't get it to post directly. I think it was a problem with YouTube. Anyway, enjoy.
-HVC
Watch "Busted" on YouTube
Sorry, I couldn't get it to post directly. I think it was a problem with YouTube. Anyway, enjoy.
-HVC
Monday, January 29, 2007
"The Alchemist" book review.
The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho was recommended to me by a close friend who knows I get into coming-of-age tales of young men, especially ones that leave the reader in contemplation. It doesn't hurt if the author can intermingle references from various religions, societies, governments, or anything else that would have sacred text. I had high hopes when I purchased this book (from Village Books--you should go there), and deflated them early.
The story centers on a young shepherd named Santiago, who leaves his familiar life behind for a journey into unknown land, among unknown people, for a mostly unknown reason. He continually finds himself taking direction from omens, and older men who speak truth into his life. He knows that he seeks a treasure on an entirely different continent, but that is all he has to go off of. Along the way he heeds wisdom from a gypsy, a hobo, an old englishman, a camel driver, a crystal shop owner, and finally (you guessed it), an alchemist. I wish I could say that his interactions with these people were really stimulating and you could see the ways they were changing him as you read them, but they were all essentially the same person, just chopped up into different characters. They all spoke in the same manner, about the same matter, and viewed the boy exactly the same. I was bored by this.
Santiago is on a quest. He is learning, questioning, doubting, finding, failing, succeeding, all at once. It's a story we've heard a million times before. He's nobody special, but he undertakes a special journey, and that leads to the writing of a special book, for special people, to inspire them to find special purpose for their special lives. It's a very special experience.
I think what attracts people to this story is the romantic language Coelho uses while dealing with the same crap we talk about all the time. Coelho uses references straight from the Bible, some muslim doctrine, and even the story of Joseph Smith. While this probably impresses some people, all one would have to do to obtain these references is type each reference point into Wikipedia and see what other words come up. So the references were boring, too. At least to me.
Is this a book review, really? I think what I am trying to convey is that the book is nice, kind of romantically written, easy to read, and therefore boring. If you're looking for a sweet little packaged story of self-definition, pick it up. If that'll bore you, move right along. Thanks for reading my bitchin' and moanin'.
-HVC
I think what attracts people to this story is the romantic language Coelho uses while dealing with the same crap we talk about all the time. Coelho uses references straight from the Bible, some muslim doctrine, and even the story of Joseph Smith. While this probably impresses some people, all one would have to do to obtain these references is type each reference point into Wikipedia and see what other words come up. So the references were boring, too. At least to me.
Is this a book review, really? I think what I am trying to convey is that the book is nice, kind of romantically written, easy to read, and therefore boring. If you're looking for a sweet little packaged story of self-definition, pick it up. If that'll bore you, move right along. Thanks for reading my bitchin' and moanin'.
-HVC
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Jesus Camp film review.
Photos from the documentary.
www.jesuscampthemovie.com
Directors Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady have struck gold. If you have seen "Boys of Baraka" (another very special documentary), you know that their style is to let the kids and the stories unfold before your eyes without adding narrative. Never before have I seen a documentary so willing to let the subject matter speak for itself, nevermind the fact that the subject matter speaks huge volumes no matter how it is presented. Do yourself a favor and watch "Jesus Camp" immediately.
The film introduces you to Pastor Becky Fischer, an extremely passionate woman who teaches kids both at her home church and at an annual Summer camp in North Dakota. We see her preaching, teaching, and interacting with some of the kids who we eventually follow home and then to the camp itself. The kids tell their stories, explain their faith, and justify their beliefs, while their parents sit down and tell us their philosophies as parents. When we get to camp we see for ourselves what they are teaching their children to believe, to say, and to do. If you haven't seen the film, reading any further might spoil some parts for you--just a warning.
As I sat down to watch this film, I did my absolute best to practice epoche: the willing suspension of judgment for the sake of learning. But what I saw stirred too much of my soul to keep my convictions at bay. I saw a huge caucas of children being brought up as soldiers--Fischer's justification is that Muslim children are being raised up as soldiers for Islam all over the world, so Christian children should have that same passion and fire, except in the name of Christ. Need I point out what a narrow and ignorant view of the Muslim world this is? I'll fight that battle some other time. Anyhow, Fischer's camp includes programs that lead the children in militaristic chanting, and at one point she leads them in shouting "This means war! This means war! This means war!" A full-fledged pre-pubescent army for Jesus.
Along with their soldier-mentality, the kids have a purely Evangelical Christian education. The parents homeschool their children, explaining that since "God has been removed from public schools," they are in despair. The now infamous Rev. Ted Haggard even remarks that they are evil, because they teach evolutionism, but not creationism. One mother teaches her son that science is purely phony because nobody can truly prove anything. She later tells us that she would never send her kids away for eight hours per day to be told lies when she can keep them at home and teach the truth.
The children themselves are confident, bright, and so good-natured that it is very difficult to look at them with a critical eye. The exception is one young girl named Rachel, who carries so much of that "Christian swagger" that I found myself very angry at her arrogance. She speaks with the same swagger and cocky brashness that she has no doubt heard from her beloved Christian talk radio pastors, megachurch speakers, and President. You want to see them as children: bright eyed, open-minded, naive, no matter how intelligent or confident. Unfortunately they have been so indoctrinated that they have lost much of that innocence that they were blessed with when they were born.
So is this all wrong? The Camp, the homeschooling, the swagger, the soldier-mentality? My heart says no. My heart tells me that God is present in the root foundation of the children and their parents. But my heart also tells me that that the Beliefs that are being taught are wrong. I see Faith and Belief to be quite exclusive, especially in this case. The children are being taught to be soldiers in "taking back" this country and government. They are being oppressed with anti-Evolutionism, anti-abortionism, and bringing prayer in to public schools. At one point a speaker at the camp tells them to pray for "righteous judges" so that government can rule against abortion. As you can guess, the kids shout "Righteous Judges!" repeatedly with great fervor, but with minimal comprehension. The children are being primarily taught exclusively American, hot-button issues that are causes that supposedly support righteousness. They are being taught to pray, read bibles, preach, vote, and spread the word that Evolution is a convoluted lie, Abortion is an abomination, and that government should be a democratic Theocracy (if it can be done). These things are black-and-white issues that one can claim to be one or the other. The kids have chosen the NAE/GOP sides of the issues. Chosen?
I got to the end of the film and felt very sad. I wondered if those children had ever felt truly loved. I wonder if those kids' parents give them love conditionally--as a duty, or a reward for righteousness. I wonder if those kids know that God will give them grace and mercy whether abortion is outlawed or not. I wonder if, after they leave their homes/churches/camps, and interact with the rest of the world, if they will have the ability to interact with people who did not have the same upbringing they did. I wonder if they will be able to love those people. I wonder if we picked up the kids from Jesus Camp in a 747 and flew them to Darfur and dropped them off, if their passion and fervor would remain unwavering. Faced with situations that are not dominated by contests of partisan American political influence, will their faith stand up? When they hit about 27-28, post-college, a few years out of their parents' care, will they be able to see the world objectively? Will they be able to love the world as Jesus did? Or will it still be war? I wonder how influential this generation of Evangelical children will be. We have seen how influential their parents have been. I just wonder completely: where is the love? The grace, the mercy? The redemption for all that Christ promises? Do these children really believe that they are the only one's who will receive it, because of their righteousness? Very sad.
See the film. Watch it objectively (if you can). Let it stir around. Ask God what He thinks, but don't listen for an answer. You won't get one.
-HVC
Fake Steve
I found a funny blog today for all you Marketing/Tech heads, or just geeks like me who like watching trends but don't really care about contributing, it's a fake blog from the perspective of Steve Jobs (if you don't know who Steve Jobs is, you should probably find out. You probably own half a dozen things he developed). Anyway, I thought it was clever. Click here to check it out!That's it for now. Happy web-browsing.
-HVC
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
PJ Show
Pigeon JohnLast night I saw Pigeon John open for Subtle at the Nightlight here in Bellingham. His crazy energy and humor combined with his always-improving rhymes made for a really great show. He was accompanied by a live drummer, and another fella playing an acoustic guitar and keyboards. The songs he chose ranged from the albums "Pigeon John...Is Dating Your Sister" (2003) to "Pigeon John...Sings The Blues" (2005), and a whole bevvy of hits from his newest album, "Pigeon John...And The Summertime Pool Party" released last Summer. He danced, joked, rapped, sang, even played a little guitar himself. If you haven't heard any of PJ's work, let me know and I'll hook you up with some tasty treats. Also, you can check out his website http://www.pigeonjohn.com. I recommend picking up Pool Party and Sings The Blues to get you started too. You will be hard-pressed to find another MC who so smoothly blends humor, skill, spirituality, energy, and humility as well as PJ does. Enjoy.
-HVC
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
The consolations.
"Talk to me about the truth of religion and I’ll listen gladly. Talk to me about the duty of religion and I’ll listen submissively. But don’t come talking to me about the consolations of religion or I shall suspect that you don’t understand."
-C.S. Lewis
(A Grief Observed)
Yesterday I received a phone call. I was sitting, reclined, on my couch, lazily watching "Jesus is Magic," a film by Sarah Silverman. I had worked very early, and was relieved to have a peaceful afternoon. The phone rang, and I waited for the Caller ID function to perform its duty. I saw the phone number of a dear friend in Federal Way, who I've known and been close to for a decade now. We had recently re-established close contact when her mother was diagnosed with multiple manifestations of cancer this October. This mother, Debbie, is a vibrant, witty, electric woman; and expressively Southern, with her practices of generous hospitality and words spawned from sincere love. She has treated me like one of her own children for all the years I've known her, providing me with unconditional compassion, blunt truth, and a standard of goodness for me to live out. She is great woman.
I heard the fragmented voice of my friend Carol over the line, and braced for the hit. We asked about each other's day. She began to cry. She told me that Debbie had died about 30 minutes before, at home, surrounded by her family and pastor, and that Debbie's last hours alive were spent at peace, talking about the things that made her life good, especially during the last few months of severe illness. I offered my consolation but knew Carol had other phone calls to make, to other people who Debbie cared about to bear the news.
It's a funny thing, death. Almost definitely the most tangible experience a person can have is to watch a person die; but even so, explaining death is damn near impossible. Commemorating life is our crutch, how we escape the never-understandable emotions of death. And none of it makes any sense from an external vantage point. For example's sake, in the long wake of Princess Diana's death, out came a torrent of "commemorative" items that people could cling to: decorative plates, spoons, teacups, coins, stamps, dolls, magazines, videos, even clothing. In our detachment from the dead we cling to the denial of their gone-ness. With those close to us, we have portraits painted and hung sentimentally in our entranceways, we have that hidden box of their knick-knacks under our dresser, we eat their favorite foods, we tell stories about their life to each other. We say that they "live on in our hearts and memories forever," simply because it sounds very nice--nevermind it's irrationality and impossibility. We acknowledge that they are gone but we refuse to know that they are gone. To really know, as much as we know that the computer monitors in front of our faces are here, that's how gone the dead are. So we visit gravesites, imagine them in heaven, and carry their death as a badge of courage on our lapels.
Even in the way we live our life we do not attempt to know death. We devour experiences in disgusting fashion, but not as an acknowledgement of impending death, moreso of a desire to feel more alive. Think theme parks, extreme sports, mountain climbing, fast cars, big money, sex addiction--anything that gets blood pumping, even if it's just to our loins. We'll do anything to feel more alive than we did five minutes ago. Even as a christian, I'm constantly advised to "find whatever it is that makes you come alive," while the sensation of doing something "alive" in that context is the same as taking drugs, running from responsibility, taking advantage, stealing, lying, cheating, being malicious. So apparently, the sensation of blood flowing through one's veins is what we consider to be "feeling alive." This is why the world is full of drug addicts, thieves, sexual predators, malice, liars, white-collar crime, power-delusioned officials who exploit the many to spoil the few. All because we can't stand to not feel more alive now than we did five minutes ago. Any why? Because death doesn't make any damn sense. People around us die, and we overcompensate for the inconsolability with an insatiable addiction to a temporal existence compiled of only our "most alive" moments. So what should we do?
I lost my mother to ovarian cancer in 1996 when I was nearly 11 years old. We didn't connect when I was young, so I didn't grieve following her death. For about the 8 1/2 years that followed, I lied, cheated, stole, maliciously hurt people, ran from responsibility, manipulated every situation and person I could to serve my immediate feeling, and that kept me going. I had moments of feeling alive, and I remember those still today. Unfortunately for me, after those 8 1/2 years, my overcompensation techniques began to exhaust and come up empty. I no longer could achieve that sensation of being alive I had worked so hard for. I had to look for something else.
I grieved my mother's death in a way you wouldn't expect. I let myself hate her. I had been withheld from being myself because I refused to tell myself the truth about her, and that was that she gave up on being my mother long before she died, and she never came back around. I saw a counselor at the time, and he would repeat to me, "You were just a little kid. It wasn't your responsibility. You were a little kid. A little kid. She didn't do it. She was the mother. You were just a little kid." So I went to one extreme, saying "Fuck her, she didn't give a shit about me, I won't give a shit about her." Then I came back to "God I just want to spend some time with her. We would get along now, I know it. We could have something good." But now I find myself just merely not minding that she's gone, not caring either way. She was a good woman, but somehow unable or unable to give me what I needed.
That brings me back to Debbie. Debbie connected with me--and that started within a year after my mom had died. Debbie cared deeply for my emotional and spiritual well-being, taking me to church, inviting me in to her home, counseling me in ways I didn't deserve or ask for. For the last 10 years I have always known without a doubt that Debbie has loved me, simply because she loves me. The cancer that began working on destroying her body in October completed its task yesterday afternoon. That same cancer that removed an indifferent mother from life as I know it has now also removed the best. Debbie is gone. God only knows how we will compensate for our emotions this time around. Me, for example, I wrote a blog. So who the hell knows. I guess we'll never really get it. It's a funny thing, death.
-hvc34
Read again:
"Talk to me about the truth of religion and I’ll listen gladly. Talk to me about the duty of religion and I’ll listen submissively. But don’t come talking to me about the consolations of religion or I shall suspect that you don’t understand."
-C.S. Lewis
(A Grief Observed)
-C.S. Lewis
(A Grief Observed)
Yesterday I received a phone call. I was sitting, reclined, on my couch, lazily watching "Jesus is Magic," a film by Sarah Silverman. I had worked very early, and was relieved to have a peaceful afternoon. The phone rang, and I waited for the Caller ID function to perform its duty. I saw the phone number of a dear friend in Federal Way, who I've known and been close to for a decade now. We had recently re-established close contact when her mother was diagnosed with multiple manifestations of cancer this October. This mother, Debbie, is a vibrant, witty, electric woman; and expressively Southern, with her practices of generous hospitality and words spawned from sincere love. She has treated me like one of her own children for all the years I've known her, providing me with unconditional compassion, blunt truth, and a standard of goodness for me to live out. She is great woman.
I heard the fragmented voice of my friend Carol over the line, and braced for the hit. We asked about each other's day. She began to cry. She told me that Debbie had died about 30 minutes before, at home, surrounded by her family and pastor, and that Debbie's last hours alive were spent at peace, talking about the things that made her life good, especially during the last few months of severe illness. I offered my consolation but knew Carol had other phone calls to make, to other people who Debbie cared about to bear the news.
It's a funny thing, death. Almost definitely the most tangible experience a person can have is to watch a person die; but even so, explaining death is damn near impossible. Commemorating life is our crutch, how we escape the never-understandable emotions of death. And none of it makes any sense from an external vantage point. For example's sake, in the long wake of Princess Diana's death, out came a torrent of "commemorative" items that people could cling to: decorative plates, spoons, teacups, coins, stamps, dolls, magazines, videos, even clothing. In our detachment from the dead we cling to the denial of their gone-ness. With those close to us, we have portraits painted and hung sentimentally in our entranceways, we have that hidden box of their knick-knacks under our dresser, we eat their favorite foods, we tell stories about their life to each other. We say that they "live on in our hearts and memories forever," simply because it sounds very nice--nevermind it's irrationality and impossibility. We acknowledge that they are gone but we refuse to know that they are gone. To really know, as much as we know that the computer monitors in front of our faces are here, that's how gone the dead are. So we visit gravesites, imagine them in heaven, and carry their death as a badge of courage on our lapels.
Even in the way we live our life we do not attempt to know death. We devour experiences in disgusting fashion, but not as an acknowledgement of impending death, moreso of a desire to feel more alive. Think theme parks, extreme sports, mountain climbing, fast cars, big money, sex addiction--anything that gets blood pumping, even if it's just to our loins. We'll do anything to feel more alive than we did five minutes ago. Even as a christian, I'm constantly advised to "find whatever it is that makes you come alive," while the sensation of doing something "alive" in that context is the same as taking drugs, running from responsibility, taking advantage, stealing, lying, cheating, being malicious. So apparently, the sensation of blood flowing through one's veins is what we consider to be "feeling alive." This is why the world is full of drug addicts, thieves, sexual predators, malice, liars, white-collar crime, power-delusioned officials who exploit the many to spoil the few. All because we can't stand to not feel more alive now than we did five minutes ago. Any why? Because death doesn't make any damn sense. People around us die, and we overcompensate for the inconsolability with an insatiable addiction to a temporal existence compiled of only our "most alive" moments. So what should we do?
I lost my mother to ovarian cancer in 1996 when I was nearly 11 years old. We didn't connect when I was young, so I didn't grieve following her death. For about the 8 1/2 years that followed, I lied, cheated, stole, maliciously hurt people, ran from responsibility, manipulated every situation and person I could to serve my immediate feeling, and that kept me going. I had moments of feeling alive, and I remember those still today. Unfortunately for me, after those 8 1/2 years, my overcompensation techniques began to exhaust and come up empty. I no longer could achieve that sensation of being alive I had worked so hard for. I had to look for something else.
I grieved my mother's death in a way you wouldn't expect. I let myself hate her. I had been withheld from being myself because I refused to tell myself the truth about her, and that was that she gave up on being my mother long before she died, and she never came back around. I saw a counselor at the time, and he would repeat to me, "You were just a little kid. It wasn't your responsibility. You were a little kid. A little kid. She didn't do it. She was the mother. You were just a little kid." So I went to one extreme, saying "Fuck her, she didn't give a shit about me, I won't give a shit about her." Then I came back to "God I just want to spend some time with her. We would get along now, I know it. We could have something good." But now I find myself just merely not minding that she's gone, not caring either way. She was a good woman, but somehow unable or unable to give me what I needed.
That brings me back to Debbie. Debbie connected with me--and that started within a year after my mom had died. Debbie cared deeply for my emotional and spiritual well-being, taking me to church, inviting me in to her home, counseling me in ways I didn't deserve or ask for. For the last 10 years I have always known without a doubt that Debbie has loved me, simply because she loves me. The cancer that began working on destroying her body in October completed its task yesterday afternoon. That same cancer that removed an indifferent mother from life as I know it has now also removed the best. Debbie is gone. God only knows how we will compensate for our emotions this time around. Me, for example, I wrote a blog. So who the hell knows. I guess we'll never really get it. It's a funny thing, death.
-hvc34
Read again:
"Talk to me about the truth of religion and I’ll listen gladly. Talk to me about the duty of religion and I’ll listen submissively. But don’t come talking to me about the consolations of religion or I shall suspect that you don’t understand."
-C.S. Lewis
(A Grief Observed)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
