the hell this dude been?

Now everybody got the game figured out all wrong /
I guess you never know what you got til it's gone /
I guess that's why I'm here and I can't come back home /
And guess when I heard that, when I was back home /
---

Real talk, technology is pistachios. It's your boy checking in from the megabus, heading to NYC for a dose of rejuvenation in the fountain of Queens. I've been gone a while -- sorry about that -- and while there's much to relay, I'm gonna speak less and show more.

I can be a text-heavy individual and I wanna try to add some other dimensions to the blog and to myself. Plus, typing mad stuff on my thumbs is for the birds. Ergo, I present for your eyes a series of pics that explain the past few weeks. If you see something you like, post a comment for a brotha.

Oh, and all pics were taken by me. On an iPhone. With the camera+ app. Illest .99 investment I've made for a smartphone. Cop it if you aspire to be a mediocre photographer like I do. Done babbling now.

Oh, and I'm on vacation so expect some musings on Southside, my struggle for self-actualization, and other random nonsense that flows from the dome. And more 3 song doodles!

Peace and the comfort of familiar things...

exceptional.

this is the voice of the voiceless, hope for the hopeless
spit game way too real, they don't promote it
cause the way i approach it, from another angle;
i stay in the streets and notice the gutter rainbows.
it ain't no pot o' gold, it's where the product sold.
it's where we lock and load and cop the rock and roll.
so turn it up loud and turn it up now
turn it up loud, turn it up now
~

"there's an exception to every rule; if you're not making the rules, be the expection."


those that know me (or those that poked around some of my older posts from many moons ago) understand that youth development is my thing.  in my younger years, by uncle jimmy told me that being well-balanced leads one to great things, but being a master at something leads one to exceptional things.  his words have always stuck with me (i even referenced them in my high school graduation speech...because i was one of the...class...speakers...) and i continue to use them to guide me in my personal legend.  i strive to master youth development and youth empowerment, to learn the skills necessary to leave the next generation of leaders equipped to make this world a better place.  i consider it wholly selfish work - by investing in youth i can relax when i'm 50 and let them run thangs far more efficiently than i'll be able to at that age.  plus it bucks the notion that youth are unable to do anything but eat food that's bad for them, watch TV, play video games, be worried about their self-image, aggravate their parents/guardians/teachers/mentors/siblings, make pisspoor decisions about the company they keep.  i legit bet against the status quo by putting my chips on youth - by expecting the best out of those on the come-up and expecting greatness from them.


no other way feels right to me.  my mother gave up countless hours of personal time and sleep and rest and vacation and sanity to ensure my success.  if she had given up on me, or if uncle jimmy had given up on me, or if my cousins, aunties, church family, friends, random ass kind-hearted people on the E train had just assumed i wasn't worth the time, well...i probably wouldn't have been.


but for real, not for play, it can be excruciating putting your faith in our youth.  between the incidences of youth violence in urban communities (according to the tariq khamisa foundation 16 youth a killed a day in the US...that's 480 a month...damn), the expression of apathy amongst our youth, and both of those problems exacerbated by the education inequalities in our society, it's insanely easy to fall victim to the "these damn kids" (TDK) syndrome.  if you are unfamiliar with "these damn kids" syndrome, the symptoms generally present in older generations, although some patients present with acute TDK as early as late adolescence.  symptoms include boo-boo face contortions in public settings where there are youth congregate, spastic eye rolls, and an uncontrollable expulsion of malcontent that often sounds like, "these damn kids..."


this is serious business, folks.  an epidemic of TDK syndrome could cripple the maturation of young people around the world.  but i think i have the remedy, and the only reason i have it is because my other blessed me with it at an early age - a TDK inoculation, if you will.  she believed in me.


i spent this morning at a high school college fair and events like tend to not yield an onslaught of applications.  but at every fair, i meet someone that enhances my immunity to TDK, one person that gets that their existence on this planet is dependent on those around them.  success begets success and those that are successful have a duty to help others be successful.  today, i met michael.


the homie michael is a senior at his high school, originally from LA, and is on the run from his past.  his mom is an true OG and mad people in his family bang back in LA.  he came out to boston to escape that lifestyle, although he hasn't been completely successful in completely avoiding it.  i spoke to michael because he was waiting to speak to the representative from the college of holy cross (my table was getting less burn than that cat in 8th grade that wore rec specs on the basketball team...you know exactly what i'm talking about. don't front).  i ear-hustle a lot, it's part of the reason i carry an ipod everywhere, and while ear-hustling michael's questions to the holy cross rep, i felt a certain kinda way.  a good certain kinda way.  i made that screwface you make when something resonates with soul.  it's a face i know very well - i can often be seen making that face when those slow jams come on.  or jay-z.  or a bomb ass grilled cheese.  or a j.cannon beat.  or words from a socially-conscious young person.


guess which michael was.


"what connection does your college have to the community at large?"  "what do you do for students of color to help them thru their college career?"  "what support do you provide first-generation college students?"  "what can students do to get involved in campus life?"


flabbergasted.  i'm actually making the screwface as i type the questions he wrote.  i had to talk to this young man.  his presence made me feel stronger, somehow.  his passion for education activated my passion for growth and development.  so we shared our backgrounds, our life histories, our personal legends.  he told me about his advocacy work and mobilization work in his school; he shocked me with his candor about the effective way to run his student government ("i'm thinking about how to build up those behind because they need to continue the work."); and he wanted to connect with me to try and get his peers involved in leadership development and service.  real talk, i would have given him the red vest off my back if it would have help him in his quest to improve the lives of youth.  i found a kindred spirit in michael, he found a way to support youth in their education and his own education financially.  all i did was listen to him, ask about him, make him aware of the opportunities that were available to him.  i invested in him for 15 minutes.  and i did it because he is exceptional.


i know people twice michael's age that lack his vision, his drive.  his commitment to improve his life and the lives of others burned in him and that smoldering heat radiated from him. i felt it...i felt hopeful.


giving up on youth is easy.  mad easy.  that TDK syndrome can strike rapidly.  but bet money that once you give up on youth, you've chosen to support the status quo.  you've decided to co-sign a system that generates less college graduates than inmates.  you've made a conscious decision to limit young people so you can remain in your place.  and for that, i pity you.  i pity you because for every person like you that's afflicted with TDK, there's a person who's hungry to make a difference despite your ailment.  and ironically, the very cure you need to rid TDK from your system comes from the the very thing you denigrate.


more importantly, for every michael that's out there, there's 2 other youth that need someone to tell them that they can do the same things that he's doing.  it's hard work and not everyone is built for it; not everyone is exceptional.  but if you feel you are, i challenge you to act on it.  make someone else more exceptional than you are.  guaranteed you'll be pleased with your investment.


peace and hope for the future...

the process of change

shawn carter, sean bell, /
what's the difference, do tell? /
fifty shots or fifty mil, /
ain't no difference, go to hell. //
~

greetings, party people - i'm back for a post of a different kind.  so this whole blog is about my experiences as i try to navigate this thing called life.  it started as my experiences in city year in NY, chronicling my corps year and broadcasting what a year of service was teaching me.  but then the work picked up, and i poured everything i could into my year, into my young heroes - the middle schoolers that showed me the hope our future has.


now 4 years later, i am who i am because of my corps experience and my perspective has changed abou thow i lead my life.  as a 22 year old fresh-out-of-college guy, i grinded to make a difference in the lives of 80 middle schoolers, educating them about social justice and providing them an opportunity impact their community thru service.  i had to create an environment where they could spend a saturday learning about the roots of poverty, sharing their worldviews with other young leaders, and then supporting the local food pantry.  the creation of that environment was a process - a process that reengineered how i interacted with everyone in my life.


as a manager, understading a process is necessary to faciliate the growth of my team. my job as a manager is to set others up to be successful and at city year, that means developing young adults to unlock their potential.  it's what i've been doing since my second year of service and what i want to dedicate my life to.  but as a corps member, the concept of a process was foreign.  i executed things, got isht DONE; that's what my heroes needed me to do and i'd be damned if i wasn't gonna deliver for them.  but during a heroes saturday that my team was running (it was environmental awareness, i believe...), i was forced to step back and see things from the perspective of my team leader (shouts to d.wolfe - guarantee she NEVER reads this).  i saw 12 year olds mimic the collaborative spirit of my team while shoveling mulch in a community garden in astoria;  i heard words of encouragement given to 11 year olds from 15 year olds just like the words of encouragement i gave to that 15 year old weeks prior.  i saw the impact that my team had and i wondered how the hell we did that?  what made us special?  why was this working?


it was the process.


it was meeting students where they were, addressing their needs, and making a process for them to buy into the concept that service makes you a better person because thru it you can improve on the things around you.  that process was a service-learning program that had youth voice in the decisions and leadership; and that program had a process for its development: different roles, different workstreams, different deliverables; and each of those parts had its own process.  real talk, in that community garden, i felt like the moment neo was shot in the matrix and revived himself - the way he saw the world was literally and irrevocably changed.  no green lines of boolean code, i saw systems within systems that spawned systems; i saw limitless opportunities; i saw the key to changing the world.  but we didn't force it.  we knew that building relationships with middle schoolers took patience and consistency; if you force it, you lose your authenticity and once you lose that, it's game over.  you rarely get second chances with 7th graders.


so, why this longwinded ass anecdote?  i doodle.  a lot.  it's how i get thru boring meetings, it's what i do to keep my hands busy, and it keeps my mind from racing too fast.  and sometimes, my doodles can become elaborate, but they never become art.  art is a creative expression of self and i rarely put myself into my doodles.  but i want to - i want to take my doodles and explode them into something that i use to share who i am.  that's where you come in.  i need to draw more and i'm going to use this blog right here to hold me accountable.  i made a process for this endeavor...the problem i didn't stick to it.  my lamesauce ass.

the kid's first 3 song doodle

my process is to use 3 songs to draw/sketch/doodle/etch/scratch/paint/glue/poop something from my mind.  back in my high school days, when art teachers would tell me about my potential if i applied myself (ha, comical), i learned that you hafta respect the process for making art.  you had to immerse yourself and not be mad the outcome all the time.  if you tried to control the process, you cut yourself off from infusing yourself into a piece - you couldn't make art.


so i did this 3 song doodle earlier this week and hated it.  legit, despised it.  i still do.  looking at it makes me want to vomit.  but it's because i compromised the process and forced it.  and what i got was 2 pages of doodoobutter.  and when talking to a good (and wise) friend this week, i realized that just like my heroes, i need to facilitate this process and not force myself into it.  i need to accept where i am and use the folks around me to push me beyond where i think i can go.  i'm no different than my young heroes in NY - i just wish i had a corps member to help me with this stuff.


well, nah - i don't wish i had a corps member;  i have y'all.  or you, whatever.  so this art spit?  it's finna be a long process, but i'm gonna work thru it and get to a place where i can create something that represents me and those i love and appreciate.  it'll make a dope housewarming gift for someone.  let's see what next week brings.


peace and renewed vision...

*wipes off the grime*

so, i guess my lyrical mission /

is that of any muslim or christian; /

spread the goodness his gospel thru the rhyme intervention. /

if rap was religion, i'd be a southern baptist. /

could never be a catholic. why? cause i don't appeal to the masses. //

~~

after taking the ILL hiatus, i'm back in the blogosphere with sights, stories, and nonsense to share.  july of 2009 was the last time that i dropped a post and to be real, i was in a really special place at that moment in time.  i had graduated from my second year of service at city year new york, developing, running, and ending the long island city young heroes program.  i was working at ithaca college on their summer institute program from prefreshman students (and please believe that program has nary seen a staff as bomb as we were...just sayin).  i was smitten by a young woman with whom i had never felt a connection to since many moons before.  i was finna head home to queens, find an afterschool program to rock with, grind on my GREs, and then apply to graduate school with a fine woman that cared about me and start my adult life.

then my unfortunate reality kicked in, realness suffocated my plans and dreams and i returned to actuality.  the night she and i had was just the magic of good food, a good movie, and two people that genuine feelings for each other that wouldn't balance a see-saw.  she made moves, i had no job, and refused to be the most educated dude on the basketball court in rochdale.  leeching off of my mother was not the move and i felt completely lost.  i turned down a number of definite jobs because they didn't feel right and until that moment, i just followed what felt right to me -- that "The Alchemist" influence, i suppose.  i committed myself to following the signs that would lead me to my Personal Legend and 2 weeks after that last post, i damn near gave up.  but a sign presented itself.

her name is nicole and she legitimately changed my life for the better.  she had reached out to my old supervisor at CYNY and wanted to see if i would be a good fit for a program manager position at city year boston.  a program manager?  me?  the very thought was laughable -- me tryna build a team and set them up to be successful?  me being responsible for the development of people no more than 3 years younger than me?  me being the HNIC?  nah.  you're bugging.

but i had no reason to say no and the words of my man, d.mills, echoed in my head.  "son, you need options out here.  and city year is the place you can thrive in or take over depending on how long you wanna climb."  i knew nicole, i trusted nicole, and i desperately wanted to be a part of young heroes again.  so i applied, got the job, and moved to boston in a 9 day span.  good thing i never really unpacked from my summer in ithaca.

that brought me to the second leg on my post-graduate / "adult" life, the leg i'm currently running on now.  and that brings me to where this blog is finna go now.  i've got about 2 years to fill in for you (yes, you the one person that actually reads this blog) and i'm going to do that while weaving in up-to-date ancedotes and thoughts.  these past 2 years given me a ton of perspective -- i've hurt and been hurt, i've succeeded and failed, i fell in love and then realized that i fell for the wrong person. this life i'm leading is a process and hopefully this blog is gonna chronicle that process.  i don't have  a damn clue where i'm going or what i'm meant to do.  i'm just following signs and doing what i feel is right because it hasn't steered me wrong yet.

so, there's gonna be more dimensions to this blog the...fourth...time around.  my phone is smarter although i'm not, so i can drop more multimedia on this mug.  there'll be some doodles and scribbles, every entry will still start with a clip of music that relates to it, and i'll be more deliberate about posting.  the goal is once a week until i get comfortable generating enough content.  real talk tho, i'm just not that fascinating of a person.  perhaps that's not the best thing to admit on a blog...

either way, welcome back.  grab a beverage you enjoy, keep an open mind as you scroll thru my thoughts, musings, and experiences, and above all send me your comments.  if you comment, i'll reply (to any and every comment) -- i'm all about discourse.

peace and renewal, party people....

under construction

like a missy elliott album - stay tuned for more...

*blows off the dust*

i fly like paper, get high like planes. /
if you catch me at the border, i got visas in my name. /
if you come around here, i make 'em all day. /
i get one done in a second if you wait. //
---
dang...it's been a while. i figure since i can't really sleep due to my wonky sleep schedule, i might as well get on my personal update grizzly. considering it's been a good...17 months since i've posted anything, allow me to give you the abridged version of what's been poppin in 7 words or less per event.
-completed my city year and went to MI.-met a lady.-started another city year as a service leader.-made incredible friends in co-workers.-realized what true leadership looks like.-made the BEST team CYNY had (real talk).-mantreated.-recruited 110 heroes in LIC.-lost that lady.-questioned everything.-went backwards to move forward.-failed.-saw more in myself.-mantreated again.-ended heroes and cried.-graduated 90 heroes and almost cried.-left CYNY.-went to ithaca college.-made a dope program with bomb people.-made myself better.-played metroid prime 3.-woke up to blog.

there. now you're all caught up. i'ma try to be better about this blogging for the 8 people that read this jawn, but seriously, i can't get much worse than 18 months between posts, so we can only go up from here.

shout out to the summer institute 2009 staff and scholars; legendary is all they can call it.

back to following my personal legend, reading the signs, and looking for happiness.

peace and alchemy...

*opens vent*

i done came up, got my name up, /
so when they speak of who's blinged up, /
i'm who they bring up. /
come up dissin and you'll come up missin; /
i'ma cutthroat baller, like OJ simpson. /
---

i've just folded 110 young heroes newsletters for the past 2 hours in the CYNY office (that's 110 x 4 folds...do the math). as a break and insurance that i DON'T have carpal tunnel syndrome, the following is a rant. yup, nothing deep. just me rantin and ravin. i call it: the morning commute. expect more rants to come.

cheea!

you know what i can't flippin stand:

* people on the Q85 that try to get thru the bus with big ass bags on their backs;
* people that stand in the doorway on the subway;
* people that get on the subway and the STOP in the doorway;
* people that don't let folks off the train before they get on to just STAND IN THE DOORWAY;
* the catholic school kids that act mad rowdy because they think they deserve to since they don't go to their hard-ass district school;
* the 6 train (yea, i don't use it in my commute. i just hate it);
* people that purposely spill coffee on the subway floor because the cup is too full for them to drink;
* the inconsistency of the Q85...ALL THE TIME;
* the people that see me everyday that look at me funny in my city year attire;
* only getting phone service at jamaica van wyck;
* having unfulfilling microsleeps in between stations that cause me to ALMOST miss my stop;
* sidekicks;
* living in the same boro as my school and STILL leaving before some of my teammates wake up;
* regularly carrying like 25 lbs. of junk on my back.

...there. i feel better.

think.mtv.com --> go there and look at city year new york do it big.

peace and catharsis...

PS: locate the hip-hop docktrine 2...illest boondocks mixtape available, folks. shout to aaron mcgruder (who will NEVER read this blog).

hoursSERVED: 1017.5