Please HELP!!!…Urban Radio is attacking my baby girls!!!

Just finished listening to Lupe Fiasco's "Bitch Bad". If you've never heard it before, I suggest you give it a listen. It really sums up quite nicely the current state of commercialized "black music"… both rap and R&B, and the psychological effects that it can have of young folks. Not only does today's urban radio glorify extravagant spending, drugs and violence, but I personally think the image of black women is the biggest ill. It does a disservice to our young black boys and girls.

Look…I know that many folks have written articles/blogs on this topic, but I feel this is a subject on which it is worth being redundant. As a father of two young black girls, I refuse to let them listen to the following urban radio stations in my area, WPGC 95.5, WKYS 93.9, and 92Q or 92.3. However, they are free to listen to the gospel stations (104.1), oldies but goodies (102.3) and non-urban stations (99.5).

Urban radio promotes messages that black girls are meant to cater to dudes, and are good enough for sleeping with, but are not good enough to commit to. So, the young black girl has to keep up her phat ass and her "dime" looks, but she needs to keep down her morals and inhibitions.

• "She came through, she brought food, she got f**ked, she know was sup"
• "Just need to know what that p**sy like so one time it's fine with me"
• "She give me dome when the roof gone, at the K.O.D. she live with me"
• "All I want for my birthday is a big booty ho"
• "She gon' ride this d**k I had a long day"

I think our black radio stations have failed to set some level of standard on what gets airplay. Now, I'm not saying that the songs shouldn't get made in the first place, as we have a right to make whatever music we want…but that doesn't mean that black radio has to play it. Also, editing out the bad words doesn't hide them. Kids are smart enough to know how to fill in the blank. Based on today's standards, black radio might as well be playing "Me So Horny" by 2 Live Crew, and "Just Don't Bite It" by NWA. Seriously…what's the difference as long as they "edit" the bad words right? The lyrics in these songs are no different than what I included above…"hey black girl with the phat ass…I'm horny…so come over here and let me disrespect you." Funny how I never hear these kinds of lyrics from 99.5.

Yo Vote´

As I have gotten older, I have gained a growing fascination with the Black History made in the time periods of post-Civil War through the Civil Rights Movement (roughly 1863 - 1970). There is something about the emotions that get stirred up within me when reading and learning about the social and political challenges that “free” Blacks faced in this time period. Trying to understand the psyche of ex-slaves transitioning into the freedom that they’ve always coveted. Trying to understand the mentality of the “superiority complex” of the ex-slave owners in dealing with their new reality. This is a topic that I could go on and on about. However, there is one important issue that was critical in this time that I think my generation tends to take for granted...and that is the right to vote.

I believe that part of the reason why it is taken for granted is that a lot of us don’t know our full history. We don’t know the lengths that people took to DENY us that right. Not only did opposition come from local government and local organizations, but it also came from US Congressmen. Can you imagine someone threatening you with financial ramifications and/or physical harm (to the point of death) for you or your family if you even attempted to go vote? We shouldn't forget that people were KILLED for trying to exercise their constitutional right.

The year 2008 was such an exciting time for black people. It was truly a phenomenon to see the excitement that black people had for exercising their right to vote. Because of Barack Obama’s candidacy, we like never before (in my time at least) were really pushing to register new voters. We were stuck on CNN, Fox News, and MSNBC. We were so captivated by that election season that is dominated most of our social conversations. When election day came around, we put together vans and buses to make sure that we got people out to the polls to vote. The lines were longer than those seen at Best Buy on the early morning of Black Friday...or those seen outside of Footlocker the day some new Jordans are set to come out. We were in line for hours, but we didn’t seem to mind. People stood in line with their kids because they wanted their kids to witness this moment. And after casting that vote, we wore our “I voted” or “Yo Vote´” stickers with pride. What a exciting time it was vote for our presidential candidate.

Fast forward two years to 2010, and it’s time to vote for our County officials, our state senators and delegates, and for some, our US congressmen. I drive up to my voting place. Expecting to have a wait, I text my wife to tell her I’ll be home a little later than usual. I go inside and see that there are more open voting machines than there are voters. There are more voting officials than there are voters. I walk right in, vote, and leave in less than 3 mins. Where did all the excitement go?

I watched the BET awards last week. There’s a commercial promo that TJ Holmes does where he says “Can you name 3 Real Housewives of Atlanta? Ok, now can you name 3 United States Congressman?” I think outside of the office of President, black people in my generation become apathetic about local politics. I had conversation with my siblings and my parents not too long ago where I said, “I bet you that the majority of black people between the ages of 18 - 35, cannot tell you who represents them in the US Congress, in their State Congress, on their local School Board, as their States Attorney, or many of the local government offices.” Despite the fact that our local officials impact our communities much more than those on the national level, we don’t seem to follow it as closely as we do the president. I think that is a mistake that we must fix.

One of my favorite Civil Rights moments is the integration of Central High School in Little Rock, Arkansas. The bravery that those young students showed inspires me to this day. Can you imagine enduring all the spitting, all the insults, all of the mobs of people opposing your rights, and all of the threats that those black students and their families had to endure to integrated Central High School?...Now imagine...what if after successfully overcoming all of that, they decided to dropped out of school. Is that any different than us not exercising our right to vote every chance we get?

"Putting in Work..."

Sunday morning, at about 8:30am, I had a hour long, one-on-one conversation with a smart kid that I have known for just quite some time. I first met him when he was around 9 or 10. A happy kid, always smiling, cracked a lot of jokes, was definitely hard-headed, but he was smart...still is. I hadn’t seen him since then, and when I saw him on Sunday, I dapped him up, gave him a half hug, and we sat to catch up.

He’s now a teenager at 15. A high school drop out. Has a criminal record. He wears a bracelet around his right ankle that not only monitors his whereabouts, but dictates his need to be home by a certain time each day...or else he goes back to jail. He’s from and lives in a rough DC neighborhood.

Although I hadn’t seen him in quite some years, he felt comfortable enough to open up to me about his situation. In conversing with him, I gained some insight on the mentality of youths growing up in his situation...for better or for worse.

I asked him what was going on and how did he get to this point. He tells me that one day a few years ago, before he took a turn for the worse, he was walking down the street, and got jumped by a group of people. When I asked him why, he responded “...because I’m from my neighborhood and they are from theirs. I didn’t do anything personally to anybody, but they knew where I was from, and they don’t like any body that comes from my neighborhood...anybody. Ever since then I said, if I’m gonna get jumped just for being from that neighborhood, then I going to start hanging with the guys that will have my back. So, I started putting in work...”

”Putting in work...” That phrase really stuck out at me, so I asked him to define it. I learned that it means, if one person in the neighborhood wants to fight, then they all want to fight. One person’s beef, is owned by the entire group. If one person wants to go steal cars or rob a house or beat down somebody, then he’s got folks that will back him up in that pursuit. It means that at times, you have to get some dirt on your hands for the benefit of the group...whatever that may entail.

He tells me that the bad blood between the two neighborhoods began way before him. He says the “OT”’s, or “Old Timers”, of the neighborhood had the same beef, and the crop of OT’s before them had it. He doesn’t even know why he has hatred for that neighborhood, other than the fact that it’s always been that way.

As we continue rapping, he tells me that he dropped of high school because not only did he get into a fight with a rival, but in this state of bad blood between the two groups, his group struck last. He was attending a high school where more students from the rival neighborhood went than from his neighborhood...so he dropped out in fear of retaliation...in fear of death.

Getting away from it all is something that he says he wants to do. But, before he can leave he has “unfinished business.” “Come on man” I say to him. “What kind of ‘unfinished business’ can you possibly have?” Apparently, at 15 he needs to make more money, he needs to see whether or not his girl is pregnant, and he wants to fight this one guy. He feels that he lost the first fight and needs to redeem himself.

I say to him, “there has to be folks who came up in your neighborhood, that graduated from high school, that didn’t get involved in all of this nonsense.” He agreed, but says they are few and far in between. I say this because I know he could have been one of the lucky ones.

I am troubled because this is a dude that used to look up to me when he was younger, when he was innocent, and to some level...oblivious. He made A’s and B’s in school, and had the potential to rise above all of this. He has now become a victim of his environment. I wish I knew how to stop this cycle. Why does a 15 year old kid...a sophomore in high school...need to worry about whether or not he’s going to be attacked everywhere he goes? Why does a 15 year old kid need to worry about being a dad?

On some strange level, I admire the courage of this kid to go through life with all of these worries. Personally, I cannot fathom dealing with those kinds of problems at 15. Personally, I cannot fathom dealing with those kinds of problems at 30.

Of course, I am thoroughly disappointment in him for his decisions and his mindset, but what upsets me even more is that anyone reading this story can guess the color of this boy’s skin, they can guess the level of involvement of his parents in his life, they can guess whether or not he’s around drugs, they can guess whether or not he’s around guns, and they can guess his chances of making something of himself...and be correct on all fronts. There are so many social ills and stereotypes reinforced in his story.

But, there is a glimmer of hope. You see...my conversation with him took place at our church. He attended regularly for some time and stopped about 5 years ago. That is when he and I built up our report. Yesterday morning, was the second week in a row, that he woke up on his own accord on a Sunday morning...caught the bus...and came to church. I don’t know about you all reading this, but I don’t know many 15 year olds that will get up on a Sunday morning on their own, wait for a bus, and ensure that they get to church way before it starts. Let alone the fact that he has no home support, and no one really giving a care what he does. He wants to get away from all of this, finish school, and go to college. Ever since he was 9 or 10, he’s had aspirations of going to college.

I encourage him to keep coming back to church. I’m trying to get him to work with me on some activities at the church to keep him busy and focused on something other than the stresses that he faces. Fortunately, there are other men at the church in whom he confides. After we talked, our pastor lead us in a prayer dedicated to this young man.

In a nutshell, we are praying that Jesus “puts in work” to save this teenager from the mentality and situations that consume him on a day to day basis.

Celebrating Black Father's

With Father’s Day here, I wanted my first entry to be both a reflection on my 5 years as a dad, and a celebration of the fathers that are in my life as family and friends...

My wife never ceases to remind me of the fact when she informed me that I was going to be a Father for the first time, my reaction was...let’s just say...less than joyful. I wasn’t upset or angry, but I had a sort of scared anxiety about Fatherhood. Scared for the unknown, and anxious about whether I’d be good at it. Despite the numerous examples of positive fathers I had in my life at the time, from my own Father to my Uncles, nothing really prepared me for being a dad. It is truly a “learn as you go” responsibility.

You get no argument from me that being a Mother is the hardest job there is. It is physically and emotionally draining, stressful, and frustrating a lot of the times. I argue that being a good Father carries the same load. As a dad, I too, get kids ready for church, take kids to church, make sure kids go to Sunday school, make sure kids stay quiet in church (to no avail sometimes), get kids ready for school, take kids to school, pick kids up from school, do homework, cook dinner, make sure they wash their hands before eating, make sure they say their grace before eating, make sure they eat their vegetables (despite the tremendous push back I receive), make sure they brush their teeth before bed, wash them up, put pajamas on them, read them a book, and make sure they say their prayers before going to sleep. Then, I lay beside them for “100 seconds” as I’m often asked to do. Then I go to sleep, wake up, and do it all over again.

I know, I know...I sounds like the dude Chris Rock was referring to when he said “[dudes] always want credit for some [stuff] they supposed to do....’I take care of my kids!!’” You know what though...Father’s Day is here...and I do want my credit!!

Father’s in the black community have been discredited for so long, that I think those of us that are doing what we are “supposed to do” should be celebrated and talked about more often.

When I look at the women in my circle that are my age (30 somethings) with kids, I see many more examples of those with good Fathers around for their kids, than those without. These dads have teenagers, pre-teens, toddlers, new borns, special needs kids, all girls, all boys, both...they are PTA presidents, sports coaches, and spiritual leaders. My Fatherly peers are the true representatives of Fathers in the black community, and are the examples that we need to celebrate.

As a dad, there is nothing more fulfilling than..having your child run to you when they are scared...counting on you to make them feel better when they are sick...finding your shoulder to be more comfortable a resting place while being held, than the softness of the pillows on their own beds....having your child say “Daddy, I can say my prayers all by myself” because they’ve paid attention...or just out of the blue saying “Daddy, I love you.”

So, this Father’s Day, I want to continue being engulfed in the responsibilities and activities that I enjoy as a “Daddy.” Happy Father’s Day to all of the positive, black Fathers...those young in age, and those young at heart.