Jobs & Justice - DC, 10.15.2011

{for pictures, click here.}

I arrived at the Mall around 11:30am, thinking I’d missed the march itself. Actually, it hadn’t started. Speakers were still speaking, folks were still gathering.

I noticed the youth first. They seemed ubiquitous, some in marching bands, others rhythmically shouting “Free DC!” as they made their way through the crowd. Black youth. I had to struggle to find whitefolks--one of the radio personalities cracked a joke about that from the stage a little later on.

i've got a lot to think about.

and some changes to go through. so forgive me if i don't write often...

the new job came through, so i've been giving thanks for that.

but now, all of a sudden, the current gig's got the money i should have had six months ago.

however....

i need a challenge.
i need to stretch my wings away from what i like to call the evil empire.
i need a change of scenery--even if it does come with a commute.
i need...fresh air. new faces.
i need opportunities that are gonna help me in the long run.

this deal i've been offered feels like a retrograde special--do it, and you'll regret it.

esu's already spoken, and so has my ori.

i know where i need to be, and i'm pretty certain that it ain't where i'm at.

but a little meditation & some cowrie tossin never hurt.

y'all stay beautiful.
peace.

wading thru toxicity

doesn't it suck when someone can just fk with your whole vibe?

i suppose that's what's meant by "toxic" individuals. just sap your joy away.

i was feeling ok today...a little tired 'cause it was hard to get comfortable last night, but ok.

then, suddenly, i feel stupid and backward and inferior like i don't know what the fk i'm doing...when that's really the exact opposite of how i should feel.

i gotta shine tomorrow. sell myself. do the damn thing.

right now, however, i think i just need some chocolate.

amen, brotha. amen.

That's Not In My Job Description
by Paul Beatty

despite that i overslept
and set a guinness book world record for coming in late
its still time for me to take my 15 minute break

pull off my sweater vest
talking shit

cross my sneakers on the desk
threaten to call my union rep
if these fools

dont stop lookin at me crazy
whisperin lazy
under their breath

but during my siesta
i eavesdrop on societys best

imagine im a distinguished ethnographer

on the black pbs
talkin with a british lisp
in front of a bookshelf

welcome to alistair cooke's In Search of
today we pursue The Elusive True Nature of Whitey

notice as
our cameras
zoom in on

a pinstriped pack of business school well groomed brooks brother
smoothies
encamped around a water cooler jostling for room in their natural
habitat
wiping dunkin donut crumbs off their jackets and engaged in debates
on hot topics
such as:

nuclear waste the china syndrome
alternative methods of heating their homes

and right before

the herd starts to roam

the menfolk take part in the ritual
shooting of the styrofoam cups into the trash basket

and if they make it
they dance around like
they just saved the world

headin my way
lookin for some dap

so i try to look busy
which im good at

start rustlin charts
construct some new paper clip art
chew on a pen cap as if im seriously studying my messenger map

hmmmm did you know that main street runs perpendicular to beech
and parallel with elm for exactly 1 and seven/eighteenths of
a mile
before it intersects with west crest
well blow me down

i aint got time to mope
worryin aloud about
how imma cope wid radioactive isotopes and mushroom clouds

when its me myself

thats about to explode

an overloaded low level gung-ho ah-so nigro rickshaw coolie
the company dr. doolittles thought they knew me
i talk the animals como se llama push–me–pull–me

bowin n kowtowin
eatin crow
holdin my tongue
hands clung so tightly to the bottom rung
cant even reach for the glass ceiling

my feet planted in corporate dung
growing roots
in the ground zero
terra firma
of affirmative
daily inaction

copy xerox mop remember the blue ones go on top
shred fedex the checks press the red button next
fax wax collapse the green mail sacks go to jack

right after i put my year-end evaluation
in the management trainee mailbox

one of them fresh out of college cookie cutter fuckers
invites me to meet the buddies for drinks at mcgillicuddy's

i only wanted a nine to five
that classified didnt say nothin bout havin to socialize

now this wage slave
is t-minus nine heinekens from critical mass

me and a few hoogie white democrats
drinking after work rolling rocks
smoking marlboros out of the box

all you can do is wait for the chain reaction show of ass

when one of em
looks me in the eye
and decides
to say something to the colored guy

its
all systems go
the white folks start actin like they know

hey bro er uh bro-ham
i happen to be a big rap fan
went to see ice cube and michel'le
at the hollywood palladium
and i was the only white person in the place
aint i soul brother

there must have been another workshop on how to handle your
support staff
which in this craft is a euphemism for niggers n spics

itsa trip
watching a one-sided will to unite

if i could get in a word edgewise i wouldnt
since im with my boss
and dont want to get fired
all i can do is sigh
too chicken to pay the price

as they get excited
giddy from overexercising their rights

my dad owns a liquor store in the inner city so i know how you feel

ive read toni morrisons beloved twice
and even though i still didnt get it the second time shes just so real

i believe that spike is truly five for five
no no you dont understand i really want to be like mike

or maybe a harlem globetrotter
its my dream to send my daughter to spelman
where can she get a check up for sickle cell
whats the name of your hair gel/pomade
do you use a depilatory when you shave
how can i join the crips
just what is hip
i know its after the fact but i dont think king shouldve called for calm
i wanna be a minister in the nation of islam
isnt so and so such an uncle tom

when theyre through
they pat themselves on the back
and quote jesse jackson

we have to start on the front end of head start and day care
not on the back end of prison and welfare

keepin hope alive
i buy the next round

wonderin how it would sound if i changed my name to skip
placed a mike tyson kingsized if i ruled the world chip on my shoulder
went to a joint full of rednecks
put my elbows on the bar cleared my throat and said

becks
then id go into my show

did you know i was elected to the senate inna landslide
and i was the only colored man there without rag in my hand for
polishin brass or shining shoes

or

at last weeks tractor pull i was the only spear chukker
drivin monster pick-ups over a bunch of crushed oldsmobiles

or

i sailed in the americas cup

or

i went to the university of vermont and rowed crew

or

i grew up in a two room shack in the appalachian mountains picked
myself up
by the shitkickers went door to door selling berlitz and scripture
moved to
utah sang soprano in the mormon tabernacle choir married into the
osmonds
and now i spend my weekends smokin pot with donnie and marie
reading back
issues of teen beat magazine

or

im included in the canon
im a cardinal in the vatican
im the highest paid player on the boston red sox
i own IBM stock
i play nazi punk rock
i drink coors extra gold by the case
i can say puke with a straight face
i have a seat on wall street
im an LL bean catalogue model
my art is in the metropolitan
i had a major part in a woody allen movie
and i do the broadway casting for tommy tune

but i wouldn't give a shit about nuna dis
if i could just say im a nigger who has enough room

(from AGNI 37 & 56)

Paul Beatty was born in Los Angeles and now lives in New York. (1993)

quick hello...

i haven't had much to say lately...probably because i'm beginning to stabilize.

feeling prayerful again.

getting back into the job search (got a call today, actually...yay!)

moon time's on its way, but i'm not too daunted by it.

believe me, guys, sometimes it's a good thing when i'm quiet. *smile*

hope you're feeling bountiful and blessed this evening...

peace

the economics of black love

got another man question on my mind.

a recent conversation had me wondering: why is it that so many of our men don't understand that they can't have it both ways?

you cannot remain a child and shoulder the responsibilities of a man.

you cannot beg and plead for a woman to help you bear a legacy and not understand the importance and necessity or providing for said legacy.

the need for stability, a touch of ambition, and the realization of it being possible to do bad by one's self has been the death knoll for more than one black love affair.

is this an across-the-board thing, or is it just us?

is it just another example of how our mentalities have not quite begun to gel with the current state of the nation/economy/world?

it's not enough to just "get by" anymore. we're standing on quicksand in a lot of respects, and we need to be prepared. there need to be some foundations laid.

land/houses need to be owned.
finances need to be in order.

like it or not, we gotta get in overdrive, yesterday.

finish that degree, or find a trade.

how are you gonna finance the education & networking you'll need to succeed as an entrepreneur?

if you're 30+, that recording contract might not be coming.

where's the money coming from for that community organization you're dreaming of building?

you might have to suck up your revolutionary leanings--in the sense of counting on them to put food on the table--and let go of that under-the-table gig that puts a little cash in your pocket. just for a year or so, you may have to sit in somebody's office and be bored to death with the rest of us.

you think sistas like being "successful"? it grates on us just as much as it does you, grinnin in the face of the man or ms. lucy every day. but we've got babies--your babies--to provide for.

if you and yours have determined that the lifestyle of activism and literal struggle is the one for you, i admire the the hell outta that. but many of us need to know that we're going to be set up with the basics: good food, a decent, independent living space, respectable clothing, and healthcare. and that goes up about one million notches when we have children to think of.

i'm not saying you have to buy into the system completely. i'm not saying you have to chase the so-called american dream or rack up a gazillion dollars in credit card debt to keep up with the johnsons.

but until we can (a) go back to africa & rebuild en masse, (b) buy up a ton of land and create quasi-utopias a la oyotunji, or (c) get the money, power, and prestige to change the game, we're here.

you don't have to play by ALL the rules, but you might wanna start thinking long and hard about which ones are worth breaking and which ones you're gonna have to swallow. keep volunteering, keep dreaming, keep struggling for the people--but make sure you're also getting (legally & regularly) paid.

your life outside the 9-5 can be the balm of gilead. but you gotta put in work.

"hurray, hormones!" pt. 2

i'm feeling weepy today.

admin day blows. i try to be grateful, but...eh. i'll say thank you 'cause that's what mommy taught me to do...but as ms. mcafee said,

Some bosses feel compelled to take their secretary, assistant, or whoever out to lunch on Secretaries Day. It's a nice gesture, but who wants to sit through that awkward meal? Anyone who has seen the Curb Your Enthusiasm episode in which Larry David takes his maid on a squirm-worthy lunch date at his country club knows the potential disaster of forced boss-employee conviviality. Instead of Secretaries Day, why not just chip in for a big cake on the Friday before Labor Day and toast everyone in the office—wouldn't that be kinder, not to mention easier? I'd much prefer that to a holiday that's a catch-all for "attagirl," "I'm sorry for being an insufferable employer," and "we should talk about that raise."

here, here.

speaking of raises, i didn't get the money i wanted. i did get a decent boost (we'll see how cruel uncle sam is shortly, i'm sure), but it's still barely what my starting salary would be elsewhere for the same work. so...i will be moving on.

i'm not mad, per se. my prayers were answered. it's a little frustrating, because even though i'm not fond of the job, i do like the people. and i know they appreciate me in their...way. but i need more money. period.

i really, really, really want to move, but i don't know how that's gonna work out. if i can get a moment to breathe, maybe i'll try looking online again today.

every time i think about the fact that i have not bought myself a new outfit/pair of shoes/even really cute underwear in godknowshowlong i want to scream. just about everything i own is practically worn out, hopelessly faded, or just plain old. it's like, i actually need shit at this point. it's not even about just buying stuff to have it.

food is about the only decadence i'm allowed, but i'm trying not to re-gain the weight i lost in february. and the farmer's market in all its cheapy goodness doesn't open until later next month.

honey's job is still working him half to death, and i miss him terribly. he's as supportive as he can be (he was angrier about the raise than i was...ha), and he says he's doing all this so that we can go somewhere this summer, but...i don't know. sometimes i'd just rather have him around for dinner and a movie instead. even so, getting to a beach this summer would greatly improve my mood. i just hope he's not so worn down he can't enjoy it, too.

maybe i need a few days off to get my head together.

or maybe i just need my period to start so i can just stop worrying over all this shit already.

sigh.

another one of those days.

sometimes i don't understand why i'm here or what i'm doing.

i get tired of unpaid bills,
not being paid enough...or being paid just enough...

i don't want another job like the one i have now, but will i have a choice?

going back to school would only put me in more debt. and the things i could concieve of studying wouldn't guarantee me shit.

i'm tired of being an underling to people who are half as smart as i am. most days i feel like my gifts mean nothing because there seem to be so few outlets for them in this culture.

i wanted to help heal people and ran into another spiderweb of red tape.

and what the hell is up with the disappearance of my libido? groan.

i'm not saying i want things to be easy...it'd just be nice to feel like i have a place in this world.

i know i have to stay motivated...that i can't let the bad days get me down. it's hard. the one person who could always make it better is gone now, and my internal "you can do it!" voice hasn't become strong enough yet. there are still huge parts of myself i struggle with.

it's taking just about everything i have not to run to some bathroom on another floor and cry my eyes out.

but...i won't.

it's payday. so after i finish this, i'll go pay a couple of bills

this evening i'll get some groceries and things to clean the house...i'm already planning a curried potato, lentil and spinach dish. and i can get at least the bathroom done tonight, put some clothes away (finally). maybe get some laundry done.

there's a stephen marley cd waiting for me somewhere, too.

tomorrow morning i'm going to go speak with the ancestors and take them an offering.

i know it's gonna be ok.

that still doesn't stop you from wanting to throw back a couple of petron shots and toss the world a middle finger every now and then.