Gregg Breinberg and the PS22 choir

 I'm probably the last blogger on earth to post about Gregg Breinberg and the PS22 choir, but I don't care.  As always I was on YouTube and discovered this man and his  fifth grade students.  Every clip I saw of them gave me goosebumps which have yet to disappear.  I'm a firm believer in the power of art; that it broaden horizons, and builds both character and self-esteem. Seeing such a prolific power being expressed through kids is indescribable.  I attended an underfunded public school throughout my school age years and music classes were  more than a curriculum,but rather a major event.  Through out many American public schools, the arts are considered a needless waste of tax dollars. Thus, leaving students with a void of self-expression and talented teachers in the unemployment line.  Hopefully, the PS22 children will capture the heart of a politician or educational leader to enforce more creativity in public schools. Watching Greg Breinberg in his hipster attire, really wish I had him as a band directer.

self observing

Waking at 6am is not what I expected of a four month summer vacation. I know alot of you are probably tired of me rambling on and on about early mornings and my battle with the alarm clock. But not with the slightest of words have I mentioned my summer job. For starters, I work for my parents,we're child care providers. Having a type-B personality around a family of type-A robotic drones is all too unbalanced. In shorter words, I'm not cut out for the family business. Children are the most perplexing individuals to me. Yes, they are cute and cuter when they began to talk. But, don't let their ambrosial spirit fool you. Children are the most malefic manipulators around.  Those of you who have kids may know.

I discovered this guy on YouTube while enjoying an unhealthy amount of the Internet.  He goes by the name of 50 Tyson. This man must be immune to humility, the amount of insults on his YouTube account is staggering. Hopefully, The Preachers Daughter may show him in a positive light.

Time to grow up

 Last week my college  courses  arrived through  the mail.  The usual reading, writing and arithmetic will become the stress of unannounced quizzes and cramming for exams. I have been a community college freshman for perhaps three years now; not because I'm unmotivated, but rather lost.  As I gradually progress through my twenties,  fortuitous questions of who am I and what I want out of life jolts me every  moment  bills and responsibility reminds me that I am now an adult.  

 The thought of becoming a wife and mother is quit daunting to me. How can one commit  themselves to other humans when the feeling of self love have never been experienced?  The next five years of my life will become a search for my identity, discovering what motivates  me  to wake up  in the morning and smile  at a  fire exlpoding sunrise.  Only God knows what the future has for me, or what talents may harbour in this insecure body mine.      

Justice!

 

   

 The past few weeks have been quite a whirlwind people, but I promise on stack of  composition note books that my absence will never last longer than a few days. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the Oscar Grant verdict. By the wonders of YouTube I was able to watch the execution of this young man;his life was sadly ended by the hands of a law officer. During the moment of his murder, Grant was unarmed and in a prone positon. Apparently, assume the position doesn't matter when one happens to be a black male. Only shoot first and ask questions later. Out of respect to the family and rested soul of Oscar Grant, I decided not to post the YouTube clip of   Grant's murder.

  I know posting this is way late considering the iniquitous verdict and moronic rioting  were  a week back, but a load must  buoy up from my chest.  I haven't heard of Oscar Grant until I read a staggering amount of articles and blogs leading up to the trial of Johannes Mehserle, the officer that ended Grant's life    execution style.  I live a far distance from Oakland and must say that "Oscar Grant's doleful story deserves national attention".  But you and I know such action will not take place, for he was not a superhuman black athlete, nor a white female movie star.

Who and What is a Dougie?

 Sorry for the long wait folks.  Not falling into the whole "black people can dance" stereotype, but this dance is the simplest,yet crowd spectacle  I've ever came across. Each day, hour, and awakening moment  this dance has gotten me off my rump and onto the dance floor;It's called The Dougie or D-Town Boogie, a Dallas Texas originated movement. Those of you  two steppers may be familiar with Cali  Swag District, a rap group from Los Angeles interpretation of  The Dougie,but it's a Dallas Texas born jig.  For the past few years now, black youth have really  kept this country dancing. Moves ranging from The Soullja Boy, The Harlem Shake and   Jerkin have came from impoverished youth.  

So Little To Say

I've been fidgeting through my brain for the past six minutes now;finding something to  blog about. In addition to the confusion,I have work in the morning and I am not an early bird. The sound of an alarm clock is harrowing to me.   Since I'm not able to leave you all with the  usual social, entertaining,and opinionated  post , I must leave you with Miles Davis.

Who Made You a Literary Critic?

Toni Morrison is my favorite author of the moment. Every visionary sentence in this novel is spellbinding. When reading about the tortured protagonist, Pecola Breedlove, I never knew the feeling of empathy until I began to turn the pages of this novel. In her novel The Bluest Eye, Morrison combines the craft of story telling with sociology.

I became acquainted with Morrison's work while wondering aimlessly in my college library. The novels of black authors are vacuous in a predominately white institution, so I was overcome with excitement when I saw a Toni Morrison novel. The Bluest Eye is a page turner for anyone who studies African American sociology or enjoys a great story.

Take a Second Look

I know this post is way over due,considering the BET awards were a few weeks back. On the last post I wrote for y'all titled "Redemption for a dancer" alot of you voiced your thoughts and opinions about the breathtaking performance by Chris Brown, but I never expressed my personal feelings and thoughts which spans far beyond Brown's performance on the BET awards.

Although domestic violence is an aversion to couples of any race , African Americans must see through the looking glass for a moment; according to the ABA(American Bar Association) African American females experience intimate partner violence at exceeding rates; 35% more that their white counterparts.

Being a young black female, I would like to know when will black men stop making us into percentage numbers for AIDS and domestic violence.After observing the swollen face of Rhianna plastered on white tabloid magazines,I came to the conclusion that black women have suffered enough, the wretched story of Saartjie Baartman to being stripped our dignity on slave auctioning blocks and hip-hop videos. However, I'm not persecuting black men in any form. There must be a better understanding between genders in the African Americans community.

Young Brothas such as Chris Brown(who witnessed abused since childhood) doesn't need criticism from their own race, but rather help. In most cases, young brothas are too ashamed or securely wrapped into hypermasculinty to seek mental health counseling.

I latterly came to the fact the BET (Black Entertainment Television) did very little to profess the dangers of relationship violence to their young viewers. If the network accepts the role as the unofficial paragon for young black America, then their must be quality programing within its schedule.

I think it's far-fetched deeming Chris Brown as the poster boy for domestic abused.
of course, he badly injured a black woman and for that he should be punished. Community service did not fit the crime. Nonetheless, Chris Brown should be allowed to carry on his career the same as Charlie Sheen, who assulted his wife with a butchers knife. The appalling news about Sheens maniacal actions did not receive media attention of Chris Brown's proportion.

African Americans must understand that Chris Brown and Rhianna are celebrities;their lives are the subject of gossip magazines and tabloids. The black public cannot follow media hype and come to their own conclusions. Our real argument here is not crucifying Chris Brown, but rather the American media.

Since our fist Black president took his place in the whitest establishment ever known to the human existence, he has been scrutinized more than any other president. In addition, the media and the public hardly ever addresses him as president Obama. It's all too blatant that the media is on a quest to destroy the image of black men; for example, the unethical punisnment of Micheal Vick and the insignificant news coverage of Tiger Wood's extra marital affairs.

In my view, applauding Chris Brown's performance didn't mean the black public were dispelling the fact that a black man abused a black woman and damaged her psychologically,but enjoys a comeback story. Maybe Chris Brown's tears were a cry for help.

The New Face of Hip hop

I have a love hate relationship with hip-hop music, a blender of emotions spin through me each time I hear a Jay-Z or Rick Ross jam. Frankly, I must say that the genre I adored so dearly have been reduced to buffoonery. How could something of such gritty passion and social profess become a deluded soul mate to the millions of African Americans living in public squalor? During this period of hip-hop there has been a blatant absence of female MC's in our record stores and radio stations. Of course, there have been a few females in the game who can grip the microphone, but I must be frank, Trina will never be mentioned in the same sentence as Lil Wayne when it comes to record sells. Lil Kim will always be a remnant of her glory days with Biggie and where the hell is Foxy Brown? Luckily, the gloomy period for females in a boys only game is about to end with Nikki Minaji. Apart from the other woman in the game, I have a smidgen of respect for Minaji. I got my hands on her mix tape a few weeks back and my spirit was jumping with joy. Finally, a woman who can spit it like a man with out exploiting herself. I'm curious to know what does this means for the future of hip-hop and the way its fans view rappers .