I'm New Here

Another great song--one of Scott-Heron's latest songs, "I'm New Here. " I find this song to be hauntingly moving and utterly beautiful, it truly portrays the caring man that Gil Scott-Heron was. We are all new somewhere at some point, "no matter how far one has gone, you can always turnaround," this song just sends chills down my spine.

Check it out: "I'm New Here:"

"He was Breaking Shit Down": Remembering Gil Scott Heron

by: Adam Mansbach

I’ve known for fifteen minutes now that Gil Scott-Heron is gone. Time enough to play “Winter in America” and “Pieces of a Man,” and to cry, and for the belief that his death is among the greatest tragedies I’ve ever known to harden inside me. That probably sounds ridiculous, and perhaps it is. Certainly, Gil died in slow motion: there is nothing to be surprised at here, no sudden violence ripping apart the fabric of a life. But the fact remains: the most incisive and salient political musician this country has ever produced – ever – is gone.

The fact that drugs took him under – and I don’t mean today, I mean over and over again ¬– makes it worse; makes me angry in a diffuse, perhaps unreasonable way: leads me into thought-rants like if he’d been acknowledged as the national treasure he was, if they (“they”) had given him a fucking MacArthur, then at least he would’ve been one of those enough-money-to-function drug addicts, and he’d be with us still, shadow-version of himself or not.

But all that is beside the point. First things first, the depth and scope of Gil Scott-Heron’s musical-political content is beyond compare. Nothing and nobody comes close: not Bob Dylan, not KRS-One, nobody. During the prime of his career (1970-1984), he was out in front on practically every major political issue – not just nationally, but globally. His commentary was incisive, nuanced, hilarious, and routinely prescient. He carved up the entire Nixon administration with a stainless steel scalpel, psychoanalyzed Reagan and Reagan-happy America better than anybody else I can think of. Challenged the South African government, clarioned the dangers of nuclear power, called out racist cops. Did environmentalism is the early seventies. Gun control in 1980. The Iranian Revolution, the No-Knock Law. Abortion.

Read More Here @NewBlackMan

In Memory of Gil Scott-Heron

I can't do anything but listen and watch videos of Gil Scott-Heron's work. His work is just beautiful and powerful.

Check out "Winter in America:"

I'm Coming Home

Hello my fellow bloggers,

I'm back, I know it has been quite some time since I last blogged--I was very busy with school and life. A lot has happened since I last blogged, and to be honest, I am not quite sure if I will be able to update you all on every things that's happened (sorry). However, I will try my best to update you on the most important things--like graduation, graduate school, and maybe some more personal (relationship things)--who knows?! The summer is here, which means I have a ton of time on my hands. But, I am spending most of it relaxing, some traveling, and MOST of leisurely reading. Oh how exciting, right! In fact, I am just wrapping up Manning Marables book Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention , so far, the book is amazing--in many ways it has slightly changed the ways in which I view Malcolm X and his life (in various ways). Anyway, I plan to give a review of the book after I am done...so be looking out. That's all for now, I am very excited about blogging again so be looking out for more posts in the coming days.

Best,

LW

Never Give Up: A Personal Story

In the spring of 2010, I received an email from Dr. Rachel Griffin, who is an assistant professor of Speech Communication and my amazing mentor. The email read: MURAP SUMMER FELLOWSHIP FOR MINORITY UNDEGRADUATES. At first glance, I was ecstatic, and in the nerdiest voice I said, “OMG another research opportunity? I opened the email up (yes, I was elated before actually reading the email) and I read the email, then I saw this “Please pass along this information about the MURAP summer fellowship to any of your minority undergraduate students who are interested in pursuing a Ph.D. in the arts, humanities, or social sciences.” If you know me, you can probably conjecture that I was screaming for joy… “this is perfect, OMG!!!...I am going to apply” and a bunch of other expletives that shall remain unwritten. Then, as I neared the end of the email, I read this: “Each summer, the program brings a cohort of 18-22 undergraduates (rising juniors and seniors) from colleges and universities in the U.S. to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill campus for an intensive, ten-week research experience.” That was it, I went crazy, I called everyone I knew,—my exact words to them were “I think I am going to apply to this summer program, it WAS meant for me.” Mind you, anything that has to do with research is meant for me, at least in my world. I am a NERD.

At this point, I was convinced that I was going to apply to the program. I began to frequent the website to do some extensive reading about the Moore Undergraduate Research Apprentice Program (MURAP), and frankly, I fell in love! However, there were a couple of issues, one, as a Ronald E. McNair Scholar, I was on track to complete research the same summer that MURAP was scheduled, here at my home institution. So, of course, I freaked out, because I had a perfervid interest in MURAP, more importantly, the University of North Carolina (UNC). Nevertheless, being the tenacious and ardent person that I am, I set up an appointment with the director of the McNair Scholars program to discuss the possibility of becoming a visiting researcher at UNC, if I got into MURAP. Are ya’ll ready for the good news? She (director) said yes, she informed me that it wouldn’t hurt to apply—and that if I got in she would allow me to substitute my McNair research with my MURAP research. My heart began to pound—I began to fervidly thank her and of course, the almighty God.

Jumping ahead, I applied to MURAP; however, during the application process, I sporadically began to doubt my abilities and intellect, more sadly, I thought to myself, I am not good enough to study at UNC. I took a break away from the application and just really had a self-reflective moment of my life. During that moment, I was reminded of where I had come from and where I was trying to go, I made a promise that I wouldn’t allow anything to preclude me from reaching my goal (at least that’s how I felt in that moment, LOL). Nevertheless, I went back and completed the application and after a couple weeks, I sent everything off. WAIT, I am not done, remember I mentioned I was a tenacious an ardent person? Well, I am, I looked online at other similar programs, and I ran across the Leadership Alliance Summer Research Early Identification Program (SR-EIP). This program is very similar to MURAP, the difference between the two programs are that SR-EIP allows you to apply to three schools with only one application.

Yes, I reckon I had another NERD moment! The three schools I applied to were Cornell, Howard, and Brown, to be candid; I really thought I had no shot into either of those schools. After an exhausting and vexatious month of waiting to hear back from all four programs, I received decisions. Cornell accepted me into their program; Howard accepted me into their program; Brown said because I was accepted into my first two, they decided not to send an offer (As a note, during the application, you’re asked to rank the schools you are most interested in, I ranked Brown as #3). After a month of torturing myself mentally and physically about these programs, constantly underestimating myself—I was finally able to breathe and truly reflect on the goodness of God and my abilities to excel. Shortly after, I received an email from the MURAP program and got the best news of my life; I was accepted into the program. Out of 300+ applications, I was chosen to be a part of a cohort of 23 students from around the U.S.; this was truly a humbling and emotionally moment for me. So much so that I cried (yes, I am a black man and I cried).

Moreover, I was accepted to three out of the four programs (Cornell, Howard, and University of North Carolina), now…I had a very arduous decision to make. After a fastidious and onerous couple of days of contemplating the most fitting option, I chose MURAP, where I studied at The University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill for ten weeks. I must say it was the most amazing ten weeks of my life, I unequivocally believe that it has changed my life in insurmountable ways. I am now confident in myself and in the work that I produce; it’s a constant struggle.

This entry is for all of my brothers and sisters out there who are struggling to find who they are or questioning their abilities, as I did. This is especially for young Black men like me who are/were unsure of which route to take and what to do with their life; I am speaking to and with you all. I know what it feels like to think that everyone is against you or what it feels like to feel incapable of achieving your goals. This entry is also a struggle to find my voice and to help others and finding their voice; together we must create a space for the voiceless to give voice. Please brothers and sisters, never underestimate your talents, intellect, or abilities. If there is one piece of advice to give before I exit this piece it is, always be persistent, set a goal, and do whatever it takes to get there. Stay MOTIVATED. Stay DEDICATED.

Peace & Blessings,

The New Black Public Intellectuals

by Imani Perry

I entered graduate school in the mid-1990s, a period marked by the rise of the black public intellectual: Michael Eric Dyson, Henry Louis Gates Jr., Cornel West, and a host of other prominent scholars who became household names. Suddenly newspapers, popular magazines, and even television shows featured black intellectuals. The reaction was bifurcated. Some celebrated this development as an opportunity to elevate the discourse on social policy, especially on issues of race. But there were also complaints that this new crop of intellectuals talked too much and did too little. And some felt that by talking so much to the public, the black intellectuals risked diminishing their scholarly legitimacy.

At the time, the conversations among black students at elite graduate programs were framed around whether to become public intellectuals. But did we have the charisma or conversational skills to do this kind of work? Such a question was rarely raised. Instead we debated what kind of intellectual we wanted to be: one who sat in the ivory tower? Or one who talked to the people? There was a general skepticism that both roles could be successfully played simultaneously.

Becoming a public intellectual appealed to many of us because it seemed to provide a way of making one's scholarship more meaningful. Our ideas would be available to people in our home communities who might not ever set foot inside a university. Such a prospect was affirming. In a career where labor and education often don't lead to economic gains, it is easy to feel diminished by society. Being seen on television could cut against that nagging sense of devaluation.

Although there was a slight ebb in the amount of attention paid to black public intellectuals in the early years of this century, the limelight shines once again: The democratizing power of new digital forms of communication and 24-hour cable television news networks has renewed the role of the black public intellectual. Additionally, President Obama's election drew particular attention to the community of formally educated and politically engaged African-Americans to which he and Michelle Obama belong, a community that includes many scholars. It is at this moment of renewal that we need to rethink what it means to be a public intellectual.

I recently spent an afternoon with girls at an urban high school in Philadelphia that serves a largely black, poor, and working-class community. I am frequently invited to speak to young people, usually girls. I talk to them about academic success and offer some words of motivation. This group of girls had a stunning combination of brilliance and need. I spoke about my personal history and we discussed their interests, and our mutual inspirations. It was a different kind of public-intellectual experience. Around the same time, I gave interviews that were quoted in newspapers in the United States and Britain. Guess which "public intellectual" work felt more meaningful? I'm not suggesting that everyone would take teenagers over The New York Times,but if I had to choose, I certainly would.

For me, it's a matter of tradition. From the late-19th until the mid-20th century, it was a matter of course that African-American intellectuals engaged in public life in a multitude of ways. They developed school curriculums, worked in and for civil-rights organizations like the NAACP, and participated in civic organizations, churches, and professional societies. James Weldon Johnson, for example, author of the poem "Lift Every Voice and Sing," which was later set to music and became known as the Negro national anthem, was a principal, lawyer, ambassador, secretary of the NAACP, and one of the founders of the American Society of Composers, Authors, and Publishers—which helped establish modern copyright law.

Read more @The Chronicle of Higher Education

Do We REALLY Want A New Kind of Black Man?

by phillisremastered

Tonight, I listened to an extraordinary podcast on Black Male Privilege featuring a round table with brother-scholarsR. L’Heureux Lewis, Marc Lamont Hill, Byron Hurt, and Mark Anthony Neal. The full title of the round table was “Esther Armah presents AFROLICIOUS Part 1: TROUBLE MAN: BLACK MALE PRIVILEGE. A Contradiction? An Illusion? A Reality?” Sister Armah has started a recurring forum on emotional justice, and this was the first fabulous forum in that series.

I am not playing when I say “extraordinary.” Frankly, I’ve been waiting for the last 25 years for a group of Black men to challenge other Black men on their privilege in the community—and really meant it. What was so wonderful about this forum is that none of the men expected a pat on the head for having a public conversation that Black women have been having for several decades, in public and private.

These brothers also shared their difficulties about confronting Black Male Privilege in their own lives and in their families. For example, documentary filmmaker Byron Hurt talks about when he and his wife had their first baby, a little girl, they quickly moved into traditional male and female gender roles, much to his concern.

Hurt said that he became aware of how much more mobility he had than his wife, because she was breastfeeding their daughter. He could come and go if he wanted, while his wife could not. He said he had to really make sure that he was spending just as much time with their baby, and to keep track of whether his personal behavior was in sync with his public proclamations of gender equity.

Mark Anthony Neal talked about how the bar for Black male behavior is set so low and so any small thing that Black men do is greeted with congratulatory remarks. Neal said that expectations for Black male patriarchal behavior—you know, the man as the head of the family—create impossible standards. First, in this economy, it’s not possible for most Black men to make all the money to keep a household going. And, further, he said that patriarchy just doesn’t work for the Black community. It’s like we’ve been trying to fit ourselves in a model that is destructive, but most folks in our community won’t believe it and keep trying to make this bad model work.

Read more @Gender, Politics, Writing, Race