Juneteenth, #blackjoy, and Sowing Freedom Forward

I love a garden.  A green space of my own is one of my top-ten life goals. I come from a country that still retains a predominant percentage of its pristine rainforests, and can boast a long line of relatives that were (and are) stewards of the land. It is one of my greatest joys and marvels that they chose to retain this heritage in spite of generational trauma resounding from prior forced servitude on those very same lands, in North and South America. In this vein, I understand some of the legacies of slavery in the United States.

Imagine the value of urban green spaces for folks that have evolved beyond the legacy of slavery and sharecropping; migrating from predominantly rural agricultural communities to larger metropolises; sacrificing fresh air, affordable and generous living quarters. Urban green spaces, farms and gardens are a vital and intrinsic part of the mental, physical, and, dare I say, spiritual fortitude of the people that provide and/or seek them out. There is also an often overlooked economic affect as well. This becomes an interesting hurdle when one considers city zoning rules that designate what spaces can be used in what ways in every community. An endeavor to reclaim an abandoned lot previously collecting garbage thoughtlessly chucked by passersby and unscrupulous businesses can become a battle for real estate suddenly deemed valuable. Modern civilization often manifests itself in an unfortunate divorce from the free simplicity of enjoying land, air, food and water. How did we come to this?

It is no coincidence that gardeners often have other social justice projects under their belts. Black Joy in action.

"Black Joy" is a radical concept these days. Social media attests to this, and the apparent retaliation and rhetoric surrounding it proves that it is potent in its application and documentation. I have documented in this blog my initial forays into establishing a green sanctuary of my own, as a way to reconnect with the sacred, magical earth, as well as to channel creativity: from working the soil to photographing and cataloging its mysteries, to sharing its tasty and therapeutic rewards. It is an ever-unfolding practice, much like meditation that may involve complicated handstands, or simpler breathing techniques.

A much-needed break to re-hydrate and enjoy fruit and vegetable salads.

Some things are not meant to be rushed, but gently and mindfully coaxed towards their highest potential. And whatever bug bites or dusty jeans I've acquired in this process, I've always left that green space happier, more fulfilled, and restored for whatever came next once my feet touched concrete.

Touching the soil is as important as handling the delicate shoots being transplanted. 

The height of irony came after the first Juneteenth, which began in Texas in 1865, with the mass exodus from the resistant Confederate states. They carried within them a powerful knowledge of the land, even though they were enslaved to it. That paired with the newfound courage and will to organize brought forth the most earnest efforts to thrive in pre-Civil Rights Era United States. The real victory here in those early post-Civil War struggles that rolled into the next decade of the Reconstruction Era was a revolutionary concept of individual autonomy and dignity for Blackfolk, intrinsically tied to their occupation and thriving on and from the land they stood upon.

The backlash against progression was swift and vicious in the South, and followed in a more insidiously institutionalized way as folks migrated North to urban centers, looking for jobs, homes, and peace of mind. City rules and political circumvention put many of them in public housing, in neighborhoods zoned away from parks, farms, and quality groceries (apparently). The influx of fast food advertising, convenience, liquor, and pawn stores in certain 'hoods instead of others helped to put a negative spin on the intrinsic value of the bodies inhabiting these areas. The joie de vivre was stripped and devalued, in place of fast, cheap, and a limited food spectrum (white, yellow, and brown- gee, what foods are these colors?). In a way, the rush to forget the (punishing) agrarian roots of the South allowed for a grand departure from its more wholesome culinary legacies, and an itchy wool to cover the collective's eyes.

When a space gets reclaimed from its dirty dumping ground identity, an angel gets its wings...or a neighbor gets her zucchinis.

The Blk Projek is a nonprofit organization started by Bronx resident Tanya Fields in 2009 as an act of resistance to food injustice in her South Bronx neighborhood. When she started her organization with Mommy and Me outreach to provide healthy food choices for the mothers and children of the neighborhood, the feedback shone light on the need for more education and economic development. Food deserts in urban neighborhoods has since become a new front in the attack on economic and mental poverty, as the adage "feed the brain" has dramatic implications for those that are literally starved of nourishment. The Libertad Urban Farm is a natural extension of this effort, as justice and freedom fighting comes in many forms, both radical and seemingly mundane. She encourages better choices by making them more visible, with a healthy sprinkling of the aforementioned "Joy". What people may not recognize is the vital task of normalizing a health-food trend that naysayers of the food desert concept scoff at, while they attribute troubling community health statistics to bad cultural choices in the face of an abundance of access to green groceries. Once again, representation is everything. on every level of society.

Libertad Urban Farm, at 972 Simpson Street in The Bronx.

Ms. Fields negotiated her way through city ordinances and public misconceptions with grassroots elbow grease to create and maintain a safe and healthy space, snatching this parcel back from the development list. I was honored to be invited to share some of the load to rebuild and reorganize Libertad Urban Farm on Simpson Street near Southern Boulevard in the Bronx on June 9th. It was a sunny day, and the large mound of soil greeted me at the entrance, daring anyone to approach it with a meaningful shovel. All around us, apartment buildings played sentinel to our toil, with the occasional curious onlooker from a balcony or fortified window grating. Some people walking by on the sidewalk stopped to chat with our carpenter in Spanish, or Tanya, herself, if they recognized her. They see what she is doing, and for the most part, it seems to bring visible joy and relief to their faces.

Ms. Fields herself came and went while I worked in the garden, as she was busy working on some grant applications with a pressing deadline, but she was very much involved with the entire process. The property was vandalized recently, by those who littered and stole supplies, setting back previous gains. The re-education and re-prioritizing of a community continues. A shed was bought, and funds from the NYC Parks Department supplied much needed tools, organic manure and wood to construct raised beds. This will not be a one-off effort to beautify and prepare, but an ongoing labor of love during the fertile season to bring nutrient-dense edibles to the community, as well as a space to recharge the spirit of a proud people.

I can't wait to go back and show you the "after" picture of this raised bed- cucumbers and squash runners everywhere!

Read up on some of Ms. Fields' earlier efforts with Libertad here.
Find out about upcoming events here.

The Year Of The How

It is already the second month of 2015. We are 36 days in, one-tenth of the year locked and loaded already. How many more bullets of success can I add to this revolver I'm staring down (too much imagery?)?

Well, it is the Jesus Year..., as succinctly put by fellow "linguist" trickynek: Urban Dictionary: jesus year. And this means for me several things:
1- Learning my language and a language will be two separate goals and challenges for me. Right now, French, Portuguese and Cantonese are at the top of the list, vying for attention. My language, my rhythm of communication and particular written voice, is a far more intuitive skillset to develop. I know within myself that my Ambition sometimes gives way to the slightly crazy cousin, Perfectionist Paralysis, so I will strive not to shoot too high beyond my sight path.
2- Making this blog work for me.  Connect me to amazing people and ideas, earn some income, get some readership, further validate my fevered insistence that I, too am a writer (and published! Just buried in time and laziness).
3- On the continued subject of writing, I aim to jump-start my book idea, and couple this effort with my choices in travel initiatives, job and grant applications. Whether it is a volunteer abroad program or an actual paid position for 3-6 months or longer. I will not fear the prospect of perceived further poverty to make this book come alive, dammit! It need not be so, says Betsy Robinson.
4- Launching myself into the world again, on my terms, is a major goal of mine. My first instinctual destination, as I communicated to my flight attendant buddy Vanessa, is Brazil. So far, Cross-Cultural Solutions has a Salvador, Brazil travel program. Go, fundraising!!

The bottom line is, I don't want to just learn of you, World. I want to learn from you and with you.

Oh yeah, and I'm gonna learn how to shoot a gun at a firing range in North Florida next week. An incredible aside, but suffice it to say that I watched a video and got inspired to ask myself a question, and then answer it. Some funny young men on Buzzfeed decided to answer the question of whether shooting guns made them feel more manly/relevant/violent/pro-gun, etc. It was mostly them dressing up in 60's James Bond outfits and having a good time joshing each other, but it was interesting to see their transition either towards a deeper understanding of the gun-aficionados of America, or further alienated in their relating the shooting of guns to masculinity.

For me, it's not so much about testing my internal testosterone levels, but rather exploring a different concept of power and control. I faced a challenge at the end of last year, driving long-distance and at night. I almost drove off the Delaware Memorial Bridge with a stripped tire and a broken steering rod in the learning process, but I came out the other end of that adventure a more confident pedestrian driver. I hope to have a similar experience in learning to shoot a gun at a firing range. It's out of my element, but still manages to speak to a small part of myself that would like to explore and understand the instruments of dominance in this culture I live in.

Whew! Time for bed and dreaming and world-domination plotting! Much props to Evita and Nomadness for fueling this fire within me!

When It Rains It Surely Pours...Thoughts on SHE Summit, Same Sky and The Athena Phenomenon- Part 1

I had been depressed for a while now. It comes in bursts after a period of latency, crowding out my innovative, get-up-and-do spirit, and making it that much harder to feel effective and inspired to get out of whatever funk I found myself in. It's not like I forgot my Happy Black Woman challenge, it's just a culmination of long work hours at this new job (which has been rich combination of experiences challenges met and ideas fostered) and pressures from my mother (bless her, really!) to keep looking for The Job Opening that would really launch my career.

Let me just say that for a while after graduating from NYU, I really was gunning for a career that matched my thesis study, something in the international development, sustainable human rights work, etc. realm. I still am very much interested in working on those issues, and including the equally important environmental, immigration, civic duty and community activism tracks. My problem has always been that I didn't know how to find the career guidance and support I so craved. I grew up with two dichotomies that I still find myself on the odd sides of, depending on my hormone cycle:
1- Ask and ye shall receive (whether this was ask God, ask a friend, ask the various relatives that my mother did or did not have good terms with (at the wrong intervals, it seemed to me. whole other blog topic, that one...)).
2- Don't be so needy, research and find your own way, be independent and innovative.

Both of these in their own ways are noble and commendable mandates, but they get confusing and overwhelming when one considers one's upbringing, current financial state and personal anxiety/depression issues/agnostic issues.

I wanted (and still want) to do everything! I want to tackle why New York City youth are bombarded by the seduction of spending, without the focused and dedicated tutelage from our various school systems on the subject of responsible personal finance. In fact, let's start teaching them in the 5th grade, and not wait for high school impulsive hormones to cloud their judgments.

I want to seek out and engage the people that are helping bring the immense problem of sex trafficking women and girls in this city as well as globally (especially in my home region of Latin America and the Caribbean). This problem alone is undercutting the next generation of women via economic devaluation, plain old abuse and psychological as well as sexual slavery. Where will our leaders come from and to whom will they speak if they still feel their (and their subject audience's) value stems from which man "protects" her? If she still feels that her voice holds no water weight unless a champion steps forth from among the lions in the same vicious arena of spectators?

My mind races now, trying to get these sentiments out, but sometimes it paralyzes me with the sheer enormity of how many issues there are to be solved in this world, in this city! Which one do I pick up and champion? how do I get involved in a meaningful, not to overwhelming, and possibly life-uplifting way? When I say life-uplifting, in this case, I am talking about the dedication of putting long hours into a project/career/job that supports me coming out of my own personal debt, being able to pay all of my bills every month instead of robbing my own bank accounts; the ability to stop stressing about providing for my mother and sisters; the courage to take challenges wherever in the world knowing that my value is beyond how much income I can generate for a company, like a highly educated milk cow.

Enter one dispirited afternoon of reading emails. Every so often, I see what LivingSocial is offering the public. Sure, a vacation to St. Petersburg is on my list, but when I saw the words SHE Summit, I was really intrigued. I had never heard of Claudia Chan and her organization, but I do know a good deal when I see it. I immediately signed up to attend this women-focused conference, and jumped on the opportunity that it offered for me to volunteer with registration and setup.

I swear, volunteering has been changing my life in the past year in more ways than I can really attribute, and I am determined to find a way into My Career through continued service to my community. I decided that I would take Friday off of work and take the 7am to 2pm registration desk shift. I didn't leave until about 7:30pm; how ambition really drives the eager soul, sometimes! I did get to speak with some amazing and inspiring co-volunteers and sponsors, exchange some emails and business cards and even dole out some of my own wisdom and insights to fellow women.

This morning I jumped out of bed at 5:41 and have been excited about going to the conference today as an attendee. I was tweeting and taking picture to upload to Facebook and I truly have a renewed spirit to take on The Issues At Hand. I think I have even beat this confounded writer's block!

Stay tuned for round two!

Training Days

Got a late start today, but I made my way to the central office of the Organizing Obama Campaign in NYC. My night was sorely interrupted by the loud pitiful cries of my neighbor's dog, who apparently spent the large part of the night outside of her shed. And I have reason to believe she was tied up outside, because even though the shed door was wide open, she was crying under my window, even when it started pouring two hours into our ordeal! I was so mad at 5am that I called 311 and left a message with ASPCA.

After oversleeping to compensate, I packed up my laptop and headed out to the midtown west office. It definitely is a workstation, with open space for chairs to be put in any necessary team formation, small desks manned by youthful and energetic staff and volunteers, and conference and office rooms along the far wall that alternated having their doors wide opened and closed for individual interviews with upper Field Organizers. It was exciting and a little bewildering to figure out what started when and who to report to or gain information from, but after a while of sitting around, I was given my directives for the day- learn VoteBuilder, the Democratic Party's database, and start entering call logs! I have worked with many databases before, so it did not take me long to get in the flow of this one (take that, resume!). My timing was off to perticipate in the voter registration training, but I have a general idea that that will take some more time. I think that since logistically I decided going to Virginia or Ohio for the next two months wouldn't really work with my budget plan, I will throw myself into a part-time fellows position, where I still have an opportunity to excercise leadership skills while balancing my job and job-searches and singing group.

In addition, MA just sent me a Groupon for an online accelerated TESOL course that would prepare me to take the certification exam offered by Cambridge. Got it! So definitely after this election I will be working on getting my hours logged towards teaching English as a second language. Sooo, excited now. I am really stepping outside of my comfort zone with some of this volunteering, but I feel that it is what I really need to do to prove to myself that I always had it in me. What's next, world?