Things are really becoming so exciting and I want to share them with everyone. Like yesterday… the  second music video shoot that I did production work for,

Red Summer working with the Rude Boys

was released (Hanifah’s was the first). I was the Assistant Director and the production team I work with M.PoWeR Productions signed on to help. The Director of the upcoming show Guppies (which I have a lead roll in) Barbara Tatum was the Director for the shoot. It was a long 12 hours in the blazing sun, but it was so fulfilling because it was for such an amazing cause. The Rude Boys and their management team were amazing. The rest of the crew was amazing. The community support for the project (thank you West End Atlanta) was amazing. The song was amazing. As you can tell, it was amazing all around. So, I want to share the link with you. Feel free to pass it along, leave a comment about it and go to itunes and download it. The proceeds for the song go to the Legal Fund for Trayvon Martin’s family. So, you will be making a real contribution to a cause that is worth supporting.

It sounds risky even as I type this. I’m sure reading it will not make it sound any more logical. But, here is my rationale. I don’t ever want to become a bitter, hateful, suspicious, conniving woman who is out to get everyone before they get me. The reality that I want to live in is one of community building, supportive interactions, creative expression and radical care. Yes, RADICAL CARE. I cannot see a way to live in a reality like that if I am not actively working to provide that for others. For example, I had extended a kindness to a sister who could not accept that kindness. In fact, she insisted that I should not be so naive to extend that kindness to anyone in that way. That no one would appreciate it. Last night, another woman was in need of that same kindness… through all of my nervousness. I extended that same kindness. It was scary, it was risky, it was radical. But, it was the kindness that I WANTED to extend. It was the one that was put on my heart to extend. So, I fought my fear and I lived as the sister I wanted to be friends with. Whew!

I’m a member of a sorority and I know that members catch a lot of flack from the general student body because it seems that we have chosen to associate only with other members. But when you look at the concepts and risks of any relationship, it feels safer when you have a commitment. In general, there is no real commitment to sisterhood within our community because we are trained to see each other as competition as adversaries. What we fail to consider is when we have a strong bond with our sisters, our romantic relationships become more secure, our children are safer and our lives are more enriched.

There is this huge push in the media to show black women as savage beasts. They promote images of us punching, kicking and clawing at each other on television and the internet almost daily. The vulgarities, the venomous attacks, the flailing arms flying spit that used to just be on an afternoon talk show can now be found in great volume on youtube videos. Young girls are setting each other up for violent attacks in order to get a thousand views. We have allowed ourselves to become desensitized to it. I even hate to say that we enjoy it. We call it our guilty pleasure. We watch it on repeat and delight in watching our sisters be attacked for sport. We do not expect to be the next target. Then we are surprised when we are. If we do not start to actively combat this with our time, our energy and our resources… We will be the next target.

The only solution I see for this is Radical Care. We have to retrain ourselves. The divide and conquer tactic to prey on our fears of being alone has left us just that… alone, hurt, confused, damaged and abused. What do you think would happen if every man knew that we would take our daughter’s word over his when she says he touched her? What would happen if we refused to be the other woman? What would happen if we refused to stand with our political party or our religious organization (that often leaves us voiceless and unprotected) and we put our votes and tithes with our sisters? What would happen if we sided with each other? I think we would be safer. And with that hope, I’m willing to give it a try. I’m even willing to start first. Will you join me?

Phase 2… Two Fingers Press is steadily growing. This month, we will be publishing Long Story Short: From Foster Care to Fame by the illustrious Bethsheba A Rem aka Queen Sheba. The release party extravaganza has been scheduled as the kick-off event for the Tamika Festival. This week long festival is the brain child of Atlanta’s own Georgia Me and is an overload of talent that you will have to experience for yourself. I am so excited to be a part of both events. Sheba’s book release party is a collaborative effort between Sheba and my beautiful and talented Soror Ty Baker the creator of  Cameo Ventures. With the two of these amazing women working together, this will be like no other book signing you’ve ever attended. Speaking of… when all of that is done… I’ll get back to working out the final details for the release of Raw Sugar. Hopefully, I can get Ty to come work with me and our other Soror and Atlanta powerhouse, Adah Duval on that. Hint Hint!

This weekend, two of my teams will be working together for the first time. Barbara Tatum will be directing a tribute video for Trayvon Martin and M.PoWeR Productions will be working closely with her to make it all happen. I think this could be the beginning of something wonderful. *big smile*

More info to come on all the events, plus a new article with Monte of the Brave Soul Collective is coming real soon.

You read that correctly! The real issue here, is that the sperm of the world is not being protected. It is being cast away like trash and not heralded in the manner befitting the MOST IMPORTANT organism on the planet. Apparently, women are only here to be the harvesters of this precious commodity. Who cares if they are traumatized, abused or have to endure physical harm themselves? As long as that amazing sperm is allowed to reach her lowly egg, God will be happy. This is what we are to believe, right? If a little girl is molested by her father, she should be happy that at least he was kind enough to leave his lovely sperm in her. Now, she can make God happy by giving birth to her “son-ther.” If  a woman is dragged into an alley and raped by a stranger, she should rest assured knowing that her attack was not in vain. His glorious sperm will bring her a lifetime of joy knowing that although it was against her will, she too has the honor of cultivating a child from the rapists’ beautiful sperm. Gang rape! Even more amazing sperm to have a chance to carry into existence. If you’re lucky, maybe even twins! Now two of your attackers (I mean depositors) will be able to share the glory. Consider it a further blessing that the sperm fertilizes an egg that is still in your tubes. Even if you are torn apart internally, you get to die knowing the joy of having sperm inside you! Oh what a wonderful gift!

So women of the world, don’t take this as a personal attack on your right to choose what happens with your own body. Don’t consider this a slight in the quest for equal health care for all, regardless of gender. This is not about you. The Catholic Church has made this abundantly clear when they agreed to continue to provide Viagra for male patients, but are fighting against the right for you to receive birth control under the same policy you are paying for. They do want you to have sex, just not protected sex. That must be the sin. Clearly, much more than God loves women… He must love SPERM.

One day, just as surely as I am sitting here now, I got over it. I stopped feeling sorry for myself, I stopped mourning what I could never have again and I posted a poem on my new Facebook page. I kept posting and I kept writing and soon, I was into a new manor of being a poet. I became a writer. Less concerned about the standard format for Spoken Word, I began to let my work grow into something more. After a while… I had a new book. I let it sit in my bookbag for another 2 years. For some reason, some kind of fear took over me. I hemmed and hawed and pretended to be excited about it when I really wasn’t. I tried to force myself to face this fear… insecurity. Was the work strong enough? Was this the book I really wanted to put out? I edited and edited until I had a 3rd book with the exact same name.

Finally, I decided to let go. I sent the book to the printer knowing that there was still more to be done to it. Feeling that there were still parts that needed to be fixed. Knowing that I had not looked at a few pieces at all, let alone tried to edit them. I just sent it to have a look through from C.C. Carter and it went straight from her hands to the designers. I set a release date and I made an announcement. This made it real. I was publishing another book!

I would love to tell this as a self-made road to success, but the reality is… there were so many people who just kept on me. They kept asking questions and being available to help. An angel came and took over my defunct website (thanks a million Tiffany). My friends (live and e-friends) kept calling or emailing and asking when will the book be done and what help do I need? These were my extrinsic motivators when I could not muster up the guts to move forward. I am so thankful for all that encouragement.

Valentine's Day

Two weeks ago, I had my first signing to an amazing crowd in Chicago, the site is launching today (with pre-ordering available) and a month from now, I will be releasing the book in Atlanta.

New book, new tour, new concept, new booking agent and a new car (since my Saturn was totaled last week). Things are really looking up and I am so excited and grateful about the path things are taking.

Tomorrow will be a full work day. I will focus all of my energies on proving to the universe that I am serious this time. I will make all of the calls, send all of the emails and do all of the research necessary to make this dream a reality. On 11-11-11, I collected over 50 letters from people to themselves listing the achievements that they wanted to attain or whatever it is they wanted to call forward into their lives. I will be mailing out those letters to them on May 11 as a reminder of what we said we wanted and as a landmark for where we are on our path. This will be that for me. This is my reminder that I will finish what I started.

Make lists

Put items and appointments on a calendar

Create a timeline with hard deadlines

Put it in a place you will look at often

Look at it often

Check off accomplishments and celebrate them

maybe it was that last whooping
the one when he didn’t cry that did it
broke his resolve
made him less man
more monster
than she had anticipated
the one when he grabbed the belt
looked her straight in the eye
and showed her who was stronger

she wanted to break him
now he roams the earth
looking for things
and people
to break
he had to stand still
and take it
so he hits
until they are still
pushes noses into skulls
snaps bones
splatters blood

babies are not born rabid dogs
they are trained that way
thrown scraps
fed blood
slapped and praised
chained and released
they learn to sniff out the weakest one
chase
attack

those who want to live
learn to kill