This blog is a visual articulation of MY views of the world around me. I will present various sides of arguments, and always sum them up with my own personal take.
My more entertaining/diverse/ridiculous/lovable blog can be found at http://mrjdjude.tumblr.com/ and I'll do all of my following from that blog as well!
Thanks and enjoy!
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
How my mother's fanatical views tore us apart Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1021293/How-mothers-fanatical-feminist-views-tore-apart-daughter-The-Color-Purple-author.html#ixzz1qqjBE24T
…that moment when someone you look up to turns out to not be the person you wanted them to be. Yea, that’s what this article did to Alice Walker. As I’ve noted, I’m re-reading Walker’s In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens and I’m really enjoying it (although the shear length of time it’s taken me to actually finish the book may say otherwise…).
She fashions the book a piece of “womanist prose” and while I try to stay away from grand labels such as “womanist” I find myself agreeing with her thoughts and principles, especially as a southern artist (as I fashion myself a southern artist, while having not spent significant time in the south since ‘05).
As the book was first published in 1984, some of her writings are dated (her thoughts on the Cuban revolution that put Castro in charge are both enlightening and scary as you see the promise he had as a leader and to see the way it all changed) present a time in her life she has since moved away from. She talks about the loving relationship she has with her husband (whom she divorced in the late 70s) and the love she has for her daughter.
From the linked article, and other writings by Rebecca (and from some of Alice Walker’s own writings) we know the eldest Walker to think of motherhood as another form of servitude and marriage stifling.
I’m not a woman so I won’t venture too deep into Alice Walker’s feelings on the subject as I can’t argue her point from a place of experience. I can say that I’m hurt that she didn’t turn out to be the mother Rebecca wanted her to be, especially as In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens starts off with such a beautiful dedication to her (or was this the first sign that something was wrong?)
Howlround- Zelda Fichandler: Address to the Stage Directors and Choreographers Society in Celebration of the Third Annual Zelda Fichandler Award
In the “Journal of the American New Voices Play Institute” there was an article by co-founder of Arena Stage, Zelda Fichandler. I wish I could have sat under her! What an inspiration! She is so insightful and in this article she articulates, just as well as she always has, the challenges we face in the American Theatre and proposes ways in which we can soldier forward.
I’ve been blessed to have read many of her speeches (shoutout to my Bestie, Stacey Stewart!) and I’ve been inspired by her words; but never like this one. Her words, at this time in my life, feel more like a manifesto than just a good speech. I hope to inspire the type of change I am looking forward and will go forth with her words as a constant reminder of what strong values and strong thought can do for an artist, and institution and the field.
Sitting Under the Tree of Knowledge
My grandfather, Vincent Rogers, was a very, very wise man. My fondest moments growing up were sitting next to his wheelchair as he told me stories about growing up in the islands. His stories ranged from chasing women (the reason why he was in a wheelchair), to working multiple jobs to feed and provide for those women and their kids, to his own struggle for identity growing up. Listening to his stories helped shape me to the man I am today. Sitting next to his wheelchair still resonate as the most influential moments of my life.
Throughout the week I’ve talked about the role of mentors and role models and the issues surrounding those relationships. For today, I want to focus on the benefits of these relationships.
I have been blessed to find a mentor in every field of my personal endeavors. From Directing, Playwritting, Community Service, Theatre Administration, and even blogging, I’ve had someone lend me some knowledge. The time spent sitting and talking to them have made things so much clearer for me. Learning from their mistakes have helped me navigate my own life’s hurdles. Although their experiences don’t make me immune to struggle and failure, the experiences they share and the knowledge they pass down, do reduce the time it takes to dust yourself off and get back up again.
For me, the essence of mentoring is just that; reducing the time it takes to get back up again. In my previous post, I talked about not mentoring in the capacity that I would have liked to while in college. I let down my college mentors (the Class of ‘06, ‘07, Ernest and others) when I let the next generations stay down on the ground. When given the opportunities to extend my hand, I often chose to stay focused on me. I finally woke up my senior year, and although that time was successful, I wish I would’ve gotten involved a lot earlier.
Some of life’s greatest revelations have come sitting under trees. Sir Isaac Newton discovered his theories while sitting under a tree, Shakespeare wrote some of his poems and plays while sitting under a tree, Diddy came up with many of his remixes while sitting under a tree and Huey Freeman is always getting deep when he goes to that tree. Outside of the rich history of enlightenment (so what if I made some of those examples up? You got the point!) of trees, the larger image of gaining knowledge while being close to a strong, deeply rooted object is very powerful.
The image is so strong: the Tree of Knowledge. My tree was my grandfather. My tree is Kenny. My tree is Lydia. My tree is Wynette (my mom). Finding your tree is so critical. The trees we sit under make us more complete. I want to become a tree. I want to be a source of help, inspiration and mentorship to others. I want to pay forward what has been passed down to me.
In life, you will fail, you will make mistakes, you will fall down and get your knees dirty. Life isn’t about the moments you get knocked down, it’s about getting back up. Finding a tree will help you get back up when you get knocked down.
90’s Babies: where did we go wrong?
This post is Part II of a larger mini-series: Old School Players and Nu Skool Foolz
Yea, I’m gonna lose some followers for this one, but it is what it is.
Born in 1986, I’ve always felt older than what I actually am. In college, I really hit it off with the upperclassmen. As I matriculated, I noticed that the connection between the upperclassmen and underclassmen started to fall off. By the time I graduated, there was a big divide between the Seniors and the Freshmen. I never really understood why this breakdown started to happen but some recents events on Tumblr started to clear it up a little for me.
One of my favorite bloggers, napturality, recently got into a disagreement with some younger, female bloggers about the types of pictures they were putting out on the internet. Her point, which I totally support, focused around imaging (things are ALWAYS archived on the internet) and around a more serious and legal issue, that of child pornography. She correctly pointed out that not only could the people who “liked” or “reblogged” these young girl’s photos were in danger of being labeled sex offenders, but these young girls could face similar punishments. Unfortunately these young girls didn’t catch her point. Instead, they chose to argue back, claiming that they knew what they were doing and that they weren’t harming anyone. They suggested that Amber just back off, unfollow them, and mind her own business.
It’s sad that these kids, these 90’s babies, were so hyped up on being “grown”, being expressive, and being so damn wrong, that they really missed what was being told. For me, the previous anecdote really serves as a microcosm: there is an intra-generational divide that is becoming more and more prevalent.
I define my generation as those who were in college while I was in college. Under this definition, anyone who was in college between 2005 and 2009, belongs to my generation. While I understand that this may include a few 90’s babies, for the most part, I don’t include the children of “Family Matters, “Hey Arnold,” and “AHH, Real Monsters” re-runs in my generation.
I don’t want to come off as some “old-head” but there truly is a disconnect. There is a HUGE discord in the 21st Century Mavericks camp that we must address. Similar to any other community, the actions of a few, drastically affects the way the larger group is perceived.
The blame can’t be placed on the 90’s babies alone (although I would like to). We, the 80’s babies, must own up to our end of the bargain. Unlike the way our parents’ generation let us down, and failed to properly mentor us correctly (thus the generational divide between us and our grandparents), we can’t miss the opportunity to work with and help mentor the rest of the clan.
One of the places I failed in college (for sake of time, I’ll only list this one, although there are many) was in the mentoring of the younger students. I did it in spurts, picked and chose the students I liked the best, and was very inconsistent in my mentorship. Observing the interaction between and Amber and the young girls, and even her recent run in with another 90’s baby about the “Black Experience,” I realized that, more than ever, steady mentorship is needed. Actually, mentorship isn’t the right word; collaboration fits best.
Moving forward, we the children of the Golden Decades of hip-hop, urban fashions, the rise of cell phones, computers, and this wonderful thing called blogging, need to find more opportunities to blend instead of argue. To make the collaborations meaningful, we need to practice patience and tolerance; getting into arguments, “beefs,” and Tumblr wars won’t get it done. I love being a child of the 80’s, I love being a Maverick, and in order to gain the respect of the Pioneers, we, the leaders of the Nu Skool, need to come together. This post is my olive branch…
