It’s clearly been far too long. Life has a wonderfully mysterious way of working. The hiatus was never meant to be this long. While we originally planned to come back sometime after Thanksgiving (2011), we literally had the wind knocked out of us and life is just now coming back around. With plenty of fodder to blog away about, we’re switching up the movement just a bit. Thanks to the lovely bots that hacked us, I’ll be resetting the blog over the coming weeks. Hopefully Eyevleegbruh and myself can deliver quality content that will get the conversation going, but it will be a bit more sporadic.
Hey so Economaniac has fallen off a boat, into the deep sea of I Don’t Know.
Literally, I Don’t Know where they are.
I Don’t Know what’s going on.
I Don’t Know why…
I Don’t Know.
I get an inkling of knowing and some reassurance only for *poof* with no magic dragon.
Yes, you could reference their commitment to LMTM* blog is similar to Kim Kardashians’s commitment to her marriage, except no one made any money off this here scheme…..
Actually that’s unfair, I believe we had longer than a 90 day run. *Checks past posts* Oh, maybe not.
Anywho I’m bout knee deep in a pile of personal ish I ‘needtogetdoneinthenextthreeweeksormylifewillbeinshambles’ and so keeping up is hard to do.
And so I guess this kinda means LMTM* is hiring, opening the doors of our WordPress Login, looking to collaborate and all that jazz. Any ideas you may have for writing on this here beautifully designed blog hit the Contact tab and shot me an email. All ideas are welcome.
I have a fascination for companies that revitalize an industry, reshape the way the mainstream thinks and above all, entirely bucks whatever system was set before them. I know this is a widespread of interest of many, as we wide-eye admire Steve Jobs, retweet anything Bill Gates has to say, align ourselves to brands (hi Nike!), and become obsessively attached to Zuckerberg’s creation. I have steadfastly tried to get a job at JetBlue because I was so in love with the companies story. David Neeleman changed the way we fly. He changed the whole experience of booking a ticket to checking in on your flight to picking up your baggage, all without any college degree or the traditional pedigree the American Dream of the post 20th Century tries to sell you. I wanted to work for his company and hopefully have a little bit of that rub off on me. Soak in the power to be innovate and forge ahead while everyone else is shaking their head at you. Welp, Neeleman was kicked out of his own company in 2008 and is now off revitalizing the airline industry in Brazil, while JetBlue’s stock has dropped 13%. A story that sounds somewhat familiar to Mr. Jobs. Some success, seeming failure, better success. These great legacies make it okay to fail and start all over again, making their indelible mark as a legacy. But I wonder, do I have that same right?
Are you wondering where that came from? Ha…it came from my heart. Walk with me. I decided to give up on the corporate job hunt, it wasn’t happening. And I am now embarking on the road into a proper MBA program. Which is forcing me to answer a lot of questions about myself, what I want, where I want to go, and do I really want to sink $160k into another piece of paper saying that I am “the business”. I know I want to be innovative, I want to be a game changer and I want to do it all on my own terms. Just for clarification, yes I know what I want to be innovative at, but those fine details are none of yo business, just understand that I know. However, the terms of being innovative, game changing by your own means, don’t seem to be appropriate for the story that I am suppose to live. I have something that’s a bit astray from the Gates, Jobs, Neelemans and Buffets of the world. Hi, I’m a Black Woman.
Here, let’s sit down now and take a look at the world. The legacy(s) that are allotted to Black women, don’t seem to have room for what I want to do. I’m subjected to only being some form of motherly entertainer in the essence of Maya Angelou or Oprah (is it too early to throw in Beyoncé?). But when you look at the top companies that are innovatively doing something what do you see? Where are the Black women who didn’t have to pile up the paper degrees to say yes I can do this. Didn’t have to file into some conservative role to make it. I know there are major companies run by women of color, but where are the companies founded by women of color, changing the way we do some sort of business and that aren’t in the entertainment sector?
My biggest question is, do I really have the right to “stay foolish” as Jobs’ so memorably told us to be. I know I agree. I know I want to. Yet, I feel as though being a Black woman or a women of any color, my legacy in innovation isn’t allowed. Already I have to get over the socioeconomic hurdles, I have no parent’s basement to live in while I twiddle away at my game-changing idea. My aggressive is too aggressive, my ideas aren’t worth listening to, my voice can’t be heard because I don’t fit the look of those who are. I’m trying to find the words to fully articulate this thought and somehow their lost in the space between my fingers and the keyboard. I’m saying I know what I’m capable of, I just don’t believe in this society I have the right to be that capable. And I’m far from being the only one to feel like this. It’s the common feeling of because I’m a woman when I do certain things that my male counterparts do freely, I’m being labeled a bitch – in its most basic form. But complicated by the structure of who is allowed to ideate in the corporate world. For the men folk, I want to be the Quarterback, and my race doesn’t fit the look. You know how many times I get some sort of comment referencing that someone underestimated me, didn’t expect me to know so much or “oh wow you really know what you’re talking about” as if there was an expectancy for me to just skirt the surface of my ambitions. So now I have to go harder, be hungrier and put in more time than everyone else just to get my voice heard and respected, while nothing is guaranteed. I know this. Its just frustrating to see others get in so easily, and I have to buy my card to play, just to get one foot in. We’ll revisit this once in 2014, on the other side.
Eyevleegbruh’s life is like a broken record. As a graduate student, I’m chronically broke; further, I know quite a bit about records. But these two facts alone do not make me a broken record. This does. Yesterday it was announced to the world that Muammar Gaddafi had been killed in a gun battle between supporters and detractors. Let the Record Reflect: I called it. Five months ago. Two months ago. Now, I’m not one to speak ill of the dead (<–lies I tell on this blog) but I’m also never the one who won’t say “I told you so.” In that vain, I told you so. I’ll do foreign heads of state a favor and not forecast who’s on deck to be overthrown, invaded, or toppled. Give it a week. A month. I’ll get back to ya.
But that’s not what this week’s post is about. Unless you’ve been watching reality TV this past month, you may have enough of brain cells remaining to tune into the news periodically. If you are in that elite 1% then it’s probably clear that you are actually part of the 99%, or the realization that most Americans are getting punked by big banks and corporations. The Occupy Wall Street (OWS) movement, which began on September 17th, has recently ignited protests overseas as well:
What I’m not gonna do is attempt to analyze the merits of OWS or make sense of its meaning. Not only is it too early to do so, but a relative lack of cogent leadership renders any worthy dialogue as speculation and pontification. Admittedly, I’ve intentionally paid little attention to OWS in favor of reserving judgment. But NPR ran a captivating headline yesterday that plunged me into the discussion:
Occupy Wall Street: From A Blog Post To A Movement
Whoa there. Someone out in the blogosphere talked enough sh*t to spark a global protest against corporate political governance? Naaaaa. Now, I confess, I typically think black people created everything in history. Jesus. Democracy. Computers. (Did you know George Washington Carver invented the first computer from a peanut? A peanut!!!) But I digress. I was pretty skeptical that a blog post could actually provoke this much consciousness in such a mass of people. So I checked out the post from Adbusters that allegedly laid the ground works for OWS. From July 13th:
Anyone who sees this image and still doubts that this blog post directly sparked OWS is delusional. Even for a conspiracy brother like myself, I have to give credit where credit is due.
So why is this important? Well, last week a placed a query via my Facebook and Twitter accounts about which topics readers would like to see me address. It actually turned out to be rather successful. For one, I got to know a lot of LMTM* readers better and also got a sense for their interests. As promised, I will in some way address each response that was submitted.
But there is one response–or set of responses–that I refuse to address, and adamantly so. Dating. Now, Eyevleegbruh has been accused of his fair share of swooning. Jouelzy stretches the truth to a certain extent, but she has reiterated to me time and again that from my wealth of personal experience I could write (quite successfully) a series of dating & relationships amongst black people. N*ggas. B*itches. N*ggas and b*tches. B*tches and n*iggas. Any assortment of related groupings would cause our hits to skyrocket like Anthony Weiner’s member during a Skype call. Btw, what’s he doing nowadays?
Back to the point. In three words, here’s why I don’t write about dating and/or relationships:
They
don’t
matter.
There, I said it. They. Don’t. Matter. Before you close this tab or curse my unborn seed, allow me to explain.
People should blog or write about the things that matter to them. That is, the issues they feel most relevant to their sense of understanding about the world should constitute their basis for content. If that’s an entire website dedicated to how not to get your feelings hurt after get boinked by that dude you just met last Saturday, then so be it. If it’s a series of posts centered on ways to improve your pipe game, go for it. Here’s a hint: jerk off more.
But it’s my affirmation that media, especially in the digital age, is more capable than ever of doing so much more. At a time when black and brown people are at an economic nadir, the landscape is ripe to facilitate more serious, cognitively demanding reflection. Ushering an exchange of ideas that would upset the current agenda which mainstream media outlets concoct is a perfect example.
Let the Record Reflect: I’m not hating on relationships/dating blogs. A couple of them in particular, VSB and SBM, display some of the best writing on the web; black, white, relationship oriented or not. They showcase damn good writing. Moreover, I do not call for a decline in their readership or for them to wield less of an influence than they do. Anything other than that would be throwing mounds of salt.
But I do call for black bloggers of more political and social justice varieties to make themselves more prominent and known, with the caveat that a few already exist. I also urge you as readers to “Occupy Your Mind” and consume more content pertaining to these issues. We already know black men are insecure and overcompensate with purchasing “big things” to show for it. We also know black women are equally, if not more so, insecure about, well, everything. I kid, I kid…kinda.
Nonetheless, you can read SBM faithfully and LMTM*, it’s possible for your brain to handle such. (But seriously, stop watching Basketball Wives). Maybe my weekly rantings don’t resonate with you or demand a certain level of consciousness; or maybe my writing sucks gorilla-sized balls. Whatever. Find another blogger who covers the real material that matters to you. If you feel that such a space doesn’t exist, create it. Therein lies the beauty of blogging. But this Eye V Leeg knee-grow will not be joining the ranks of dating blogs. Not now, not ever.
I got an unbridled erection when I read the aforementioned NPR headline yesterday. It sent chills through my bones, very similar to the chills your girlfriend pretended to feel as she faked yet another orgasm to spare your ego. It’s alright, let him know his stroke game is like Tiger Woods after the divorce. It’ll only help. What will also help is if you, readers, and you, bloggers, spent more time to occupy your mind. From there, maybe you can be the next writer to spark Occupy Public Schools, Occupy Prison-Industrial Complex, or Occupy Domestic Trafficking.
Recently, I trekked to my favorite place in Brooklyn, which requires a check-in every 2 and a half months: The African Hair Braiding Shop! I am what you call a constant braider. I first got my hair braided when I was 13 and I’ve worn my hair relaxed and in its natural state once since I began braiding. I do not particularly like braids, but my life has required such minimal maintenance since I began wearing them and further, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself every morning if I had to wake up and “do my hair.” I do not miss waking up an extra hour early to style and heat up the hot products to pretend that I feel presentable.
The Braid shop is amazing in that, even though I cannot understand a fucking word they say, I sort of feel like i’m in on their conversation. Essentially, we have the reverse effect happening. I pretend to understand by laughing when they laugh during their conversation and they pretend to understand the English language Nigerian soap opera’s which play on repeat during each appointment. I am now quite the Jackie Appiah fan!
Their shops are never particularly sanitary and contain no fine touches like the American salons. They seem to work hard at keeping costs low with no bother to their landlord. My shop in particular has a sink that does not work for long periods of time. Instead of demanding a fix, they fill a bucket with hot water and place it next to the sink. Patrons place their head back, similar to a typical salon sink, but the washer is just dipping back and forth. Please note, I do not get my hair washed at braiding salons.
Two weeks ago, I went for my typical appointment. I was being extra lazy and I came the night before installation to have my old braids taken out for 30 dollars. They assigned two second generation young girls to complete the task. Their English was not bad, but they had a delicate mixture of West African French and English, I’ll call it WAFLish. I decided to play Soduku for the entire time and one girl commented that the man who made my nifty electronic gadget had just died. The conversation continued:
Girl 1: “The man that made that died, he dead, it’s all over the news”
Girl 2: “Who? Who? I don’t see nothing about that, I don’t know him”
Girl 1: “I can’t remember his name, but it’s everywhere!”
Girl 2: “Was he a white man?”
Girl 1: “Yes, of course”
Girl 2: “Well then I don’t know him, I don’t know no white people”
I giggled at the entire exchange, but it did move me to ponder a few things:
1.) I befriended a family of sisters from Guinea years ago when they first arrived. Their english was impossible and they were making house calls for braiding appointments. 13 years later, they have had a shop open for over 10 years, their children have all come to the United States, 4 of which, are currently engineering majors at the local University. Their English is great.
2.) What is the experience of coming to this country and no longer functioning as the majority race?
3.) Are second generation Africans as distrustful of the majority as their mother’s are?
I was not surprised that she did know who Steve Jobs was. Even though his product introductions and stock price are talked about daily on all forms of media, he didn’t quite reach everyone. I’m generalizing, but it seems that a lot of similar families may have been left out of the technology revolution. They have cell phones, but they are first generation smart phones, sold at the Metro PCS a block down. The counters are littered with Africa calling cards, clearly, they are either not aware or do not have access to Skype of some other sort of google service. Fundamentally, they get along in the world just fine.
I wondered if I had lost something in my over-indulgence of Apple products. I am typing this on my 27 inch Mac Book with a 2 tetrabyte hard drive. I ordered the new iphone 4s the first day orders were being taken. I purchased an ipad, just to see what the fuss was about, not for any particular need. I also purchased an IPOD classic three weeks ago, only because they will soon be obsolete and my old 120 GB IPOD died about a year ago. For one year, I did not miss it, but I had to have one the moment I knew they wouldn’t be around too much longer.
I guess my point is that I cannot conceptualize the complete experience of rowing in unknown waters with a broken paddle. I could begin a comparison about the African work-ethic versus the African-American work ethic, but that would be too much. What I do know is that her family has come to this country, with a language barrier, and they participate in the American macro market for Braids. Despite language barriers, limited access to resources, including technology, they make a living. Honestly, I would love to explore their experience here and on a pan level across the world. I know there are a million immigrant stories, but there is something strangely enigmatic about the West African hair braiders.
Ironically, they embody a bit of the spirit of Steve Jobs. While they have competition between stores, the market for braids is still very small and not available nationwide. Prices for braiding have been an average of $120.00 for as long as I’ve been wearing styles, which, from a micro-perspective, puts them in a position to increase their prices as they see fit, given the average is already quite high. Like Jobs, they both provide “products” that are very unique and therefore, that enables them to maintain enviable prices against market expectations. I went to the Apple Store yesterday and it was packed. I saw macbooks, laptops, ipads, and iphones going in an out. No one flinches or blinks when they shell out $325.00 for a 32 gig Ipod touch.
Unfortunately, it seems that Steve was not too much into charity, or rather if he was, it’s very hard to trace. The West African people may be more familiar with Bill and Melinda Gates. I guess it doesn’t matter, everyone preferred his brain cells over his bank.
Look I got a confession folks. For those who don’t know, I wasn’t always the Eye V Leeg smartass that I am now. Believe it or not, I had hoop dreams growing up. Like serious hoop dreams. Like hoop dreams to the point where I had convinced myself I was going to skip college and head directly to the NBA hoop dreams. I wanted nothing nothing more than the NBA and the peculiar culture it accompanied–criminal activity, braids, and white women. Oh to be young and foolish again. At age 11 I was more aware about other forms of greenery than the variety that adorns the eight institutions which amassed their intellectual fortunes on the backs of slaves from good ol’ fashion hard work.
Yet today’s post is not about the chains of slavery but about the chains of the NBA lockout. That same NBA which had a lockout 13 years ago and obliterated a loyal NBA viewership and didn’t fully recover until the economy of hate developed around LeBron James. In the 106 days since the lockout began, owners have taken shots at players’ unwillingness to negotiate in good faith; players have taken shots at LeBron James mama because that’s the cool thing to do; and David Stern has just announced that the NBA may even skip Christmas this year, leading to the completely undesirable prospects of giving thanks to the Lord and Savior and spending quality time with one’s family and friends. It’s all bad.
If the league and players don't agree on something soon, be prepared to return to the nightmare of uninterrupted family dinner this Christmas. Go ahead, be terrified.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do if there’s no NBA to watch during the Christmas holiday,” stated a man who was recently released from prison after serving time on a weapons charge. “I suppose I could spend time with my kids, getting to know and them and that type of stuff…catching up on the last five years I missed and whatnot. But if I remember from school there should be 364 other days to do that. Christmas is for the NBA. David Stern and the owners don’t know how many families they’re going to ruin this holiday season by forcing us to enjoy each others company.”
But save the aforementioned imbecile, no one really gives a sh*t about the NBA lockout and here are the top five reasons why.
1. It’s Not the NFL.
Obvious in many ways, but no so obvious in others. The NFL is the most marketable professional league of all major sports, consistently raking in more revenue, TV contracts, and jersey sales. But also complicating matters is the reality that American football is just that: American. The sport itself is the furthest thing from global. Whereas basketball is accessible on other continents–playing second, third, and fourth fiddle to soccer, baseball, and cricket, respectively–NFL fans can only consume the sport in America. Had the NFL lockout canceled regular season games, we couldn’t watch Mark Sanchez underthrow wide open receivers or breathe yet another sigh of exasperation as Jay Cutler underwhelms us with his remarkable inability to read a cover 2 defense. As the NBA has already canceled games and looks to cancel more, at the end of the day we know that we can still watch LeBron James disappear in the fourth quarter or Carmelo Anthony demonstrate an uninspired brand of defense; they just might be doing it in Europe or Asia. Add that to the fact that many NBA superstars have taken the 106 day-and-counting vacation to show up in local neighborhoods to showcase their talent for free and the result is a large contingency of apathetic, unaffected NBA fans.
2. The Media Doesn’t Care
People tend to care about things that major outlets (ahem, ahem, LMTM*) tell them are important. The media ran so much coverage of the NFL lockout earlier this year you woulda thought another little white girl went missing or something. The media coverage of the NBA lockout is like another little black girl went missing. Where is Nancy Grace when you need her? Oh, I forgot, no one needs Nancy Grace.
*cues music* "Tell me have you seen her? Seen her..."
3. The World Series is Looming
Contrary to popular belief, i.e. hood barber shops and the staff break room at Wal-Mart, baseball is America’s second most popular sport according to a recent Harris Poll. Men’s professional basketball finished a tawdry fifth place, one spot behind, wait for it, wait for it, wait for it…Auto Racing. Yes. Auto Racing. Major League Baseball’s regular season went down to the last day and there’s been no shortage of fireworks this postseason. Even though no East Coast team is still alive, which dramatically enhances coverage and viewership, sports journalists are paying due respect to the small market Milwaukee Brewers, Detroit Tigers, St. Louis Cardinals, and Texas Rangers. The NBA lockout has no shot of reaching front page news until the end of October. Even then it’s a bit of a stretch.
4. It’s Not April Yet
Building off the previous point, there are entirely too many sports events between now and April for anyone to yearn for the long-winded NBA regular season. College football, which ranks is the third most popular American sport, has its regular season and BCS; football of course has its regular season, playoffs, and holy grail of sporting events, the Super Bowl; and low-key the Sprint Cup Series is coming down the stretch. We still have a Daytona 500 and March Madness before anyone will even realize the NBA hasn’t started. The NBA not showing up for a few months is like when a black person creeps into church just in time for the sermon, skipping the much anticipated announcements, praise & worship, and that 33 minute prayer by Sister Johnson. In many ways, it’s too be expected and you can’t blame em.
5. There’s a Certain Street That’s Being Occupied
There’s a real labor dispute happening if you hadn’t noticed and it impacts Americans much more than if the NBA season doesn’t come to fruition. Your local papers might have reported that the current occupation of a famous street in a nearby East Coast city is gathering steam with each passing day. Something about the 99% and the 1%, no big deal. Don’t worry if you hadn’t heard about it. Just sorta like how the French Revolution started, but hey who’s counting? Americans are uniformly sick and tired of rich people fighting over ways to get richer. They’re more concerned with immediate needs such as feeding their families, financing their homes, taking care of their sick and elderly loved ones. Those selfish sons of b*tches.
What do you think? Does the NBA lockout matter to you or to anyone you know? Why or why not?
Following last weeks post, I received an e-threat of suing over libel because I apparently slandered someone’s name. I read my post ago, re-read the “threat” and then laughed out loud. And then I realized. I realized what the nuisance was. I had a Captain Save-A-Ho in my life, who was butt hurt when they “realized” (more like told): I ain’t no ho that needs to be saved. And so in the oh so famous words of Sheree Whitfield, “who gonna check me boo?!”, let’s keep on blogging.
Captain Save-A-Ho is a prolific character that takes on many unsuspecting faces. The Capt. can be a part time nun or friend with seemingly altruistic ambitions. They may take on the martyr approach of Mother Teresa, supposedly sacrificing themselves for the good of others. Ok, I’m taking it overboard. Basically the Captain Save-A-Hoe can come off like a good person, a friend, or that ‘always cool to be arou
nd’ associate. But there’s one thing that separates them from the rest. Their hubris leads them to believe that they have some exalting right over the person they are trying to save. They forsake all sense of humbleness to attempt to prove a point, even when the party they are trying to save is like “nah I’m good”…oh, oh no. The facade of niceties evaporates and Captain Save-A-Ho calls on earth, wind, water and fire (f*ck a heart) to crucify the person.
Allow me to provide you with an extreme ratchet example. *clears throat* Basketball Wives:LA. Don’t run away or close the tab on this hear blog, just allow me to expound. Yes, none of these chicks are worth their salt on this show. I had to stop watching cause it was hurting my feelings as a Black
woman who speaks in complete sentences and knows how to properly apply a lacefront. But let’s get to the point. Draya, is the antagonist of the show. She’s not married or legitimately associated to any basketball player other than the LipstickAlley files on who she ‘may’ have slept with. She’s clearly young, in the physical and mental sense. Now the other 4 wo
man who haven’t walked off the show, have a pow-wow and decide that they’re going to be Draya’s friend and save her. See, you can’t be someone’s friend who you want to save. If from the outset of the relationship you’re looking at this person as if they are less than, and then you are weighting all their actions based on that perception, I would like to info
rm you: y’all are NOT friends. So these women, half led by crazy Jackie Christie, decide to involve Draya in their activities, take her to lunch, go hiking all the while fronting like they are giving her a chance but waiting for her to f*ck up, just to prove their point. And for all Draya’s shady back history, the women have successfully turned the show into “The escapades of Captain Save-a-Ho(s) & poor Draya”. Every Monday at 9pm, Black Twitter turns into a cascade of ‘leave Draya alone’ tweets while folks
make snarky remarks about Imani’s lacefront, Malaysia’s dry ass face and Jackie Christie’s turkey neck.
Let’s bring it back to reality. In a more personal sense. The problem with Captain Save-a-Ho is the same thing that turns somebody fro
m just a friend trying to help to that of the ill intentioned Captain, when that “friend’ doesn’t want their help they get offended. A friend will offer their insight, their opinion, or whatever, and when they get the “thanks but no thanks”, they shrug their shoulders say ‘alrighty then’ and keep it moving. Captain Save-A-Ho types will bombast you with all the backed up negative epithets they’ve really been thinking about you over the years. Just last week, I found out that I’m eating soup with a fork (I think that’s just a
bad analogy, I do eat Ramen with a fork, so what’s your point?), I have my head up my butt, just because I pay my bills doesn’t make me an adult, and other randomness…after politely saying “Thanks, I thought about it but I’m good.” *Boom* You wou
ld have thought I said something about their momma, because the diatribe of “this is what I really think you” was never ending. It’s unfortunate that Captain Save-A-Ho’s live in a such a small world that they can’t see the bigger picture. They’re hubris
doesn’t allow them to understand the qualms that may come with offering unsolicited help and what it means to have true intentions as a friend. Because in reality they were masking friendship over trying to exalt themselves over a someone. And then the house comes crumbling down, cause even the real ho’s ain’t trying to be saved. L
Derrick Bell, the legal scholar credited with introducing critical race theory into legal academia, was often asked by his colleagues, “Who do you think you are?” He should have responded, “I am Troy Davis.” Bell passed away this past Wednesday, exactly two weeks after the execution of a black man from Georgia who was convicted of murdering an off-duty police officer.
If there’s one point from last week’s post, it’s that people ignoring their moral conscience in the name of obedience to authority figures can sometimes lead to hideous outcomes. When asked by the Department of Justice to revoke his membership to the NAACP, Bell refused and summarily resigned. It was a trend he would continue after becoming the first black tenured professor at Harvard Law School and the first black dean of a non-HBCU law school (University of Oregon). In each instance, Bell held the administration to a standard of justice in regards to race and sex; when they failed, he found it unacceptable, expressed his discontent, and went elsewhere. The only thing on which Bell could settle was his refusal to settle for injustice.
Bell died Wednesday along with another rebel of his time: Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth. The man responsible for galvanizing the spirit of the civil rights movement in 1950′s Birmingham devoted his life to questioning and resisting the circumstances of his time. Rev. Shuttlesworth never flinched, despite clashing with the most notoriously racist police commissioner in American history, Bull Connor. The sacrifice of Rev. Shuttlesworth–and undoubtedly countless other men, women and children in Birmingham–paved the way for Dr. King to mount his Project C campaign in 1963 and author what has been called the “black Declaration of Independence”: Letter from Birmingham Jail.
Dissenters, both black and white, were numerous against the efforts of Bell and Shuttlesworth. Many thought both men demanded too much too soon. Accusations of selfish, narcissistic motives have been hurled at each. Nonetheless, both men embody what it means to sacrifice and refuse to subjugate one’s self to the injustices of the moment. Their legacy is evident; everything from corporate board rooms, higher education, to the White House. Kenneth Chenault, Lani Guinier, and Barack Obama are forever indebted to them and many others.
But unfortunately their deaths on Wednesday were eclipsed by the shadow of another man some consider to be a rebel: Steve Jobs. At age 56 Jobs died of pancreatic cancer, a bout with which he’d battled publicly for over seven years. Jobs cited health concerns when he resigned from Apple nearly two months ago, leaving the company he founded, that fired him, and begged him to return as the second most-valued stock in the world behind Exxon Mobil. The mourning for Jobs was immediate and vast. Twitter, Facebook–the contemporary indicators of true clout–responded with eulogies and memories. The following post, however, unnerved me:
“Here’s to the crazy one. The rebel.”
Wait. Did I miss something? According to the Oxford English Dictionary 3rd ed., conveniently bookmarked atop my browser, the verb rebel means,
“To resist, oppose, or be disobedient to, a higher authority.”
For f*ck’s sake, can someone remind me the last time Steve Jobs resisted, opposed, or disobeyed a higher authority? What do we as a society classify as “rebellious” behavior?
While certainly dismantling the status quo of technological communication and content consumption, what record exists to demonstrate his life as a “rebel?” His dropping out of college and attending lectures while not an enrolled student? Then proceeding to start a company in his parents’ garage? That’s not rebellious, that’s privilege. If my black *ss threw up the deuces to my Eye V Leeg college and tried to attend a lecture for free, I’d be arrested, tased, and kicked off the campus while the ink was still wet on my withdrawal form. Moreover, I wouldn’t be starting sh*t in my parents garage. I’d be lifting things in a warehouse. Maybe that wasn’t Jobs’ rebellion.
Or maybe it was the chunk of change he never donated to fund future research, supporting and encouraging minorities and women to initiate startups in the Silicon Valley?
Look. Let the Record Reflect: I am not knocking Steve Jobs’ hustle. I don’t think it’s a question that he’s the Edison of the 21st century. For what’s it worth, I bought an iPad and often masturbate at the thought of buying the iPhone 4S in a few weeks. But to label him as a rebel is at best a stretch of one’s imagination and at worst an outright disrespect to Rev. Shuttlesworth and Derrick Bell. It follows that rebels reshape our understanding of the relationship between people, a system of being, and the interactions between the two.
For all the futuristic and fantastic gadgets Jobs cultivated–and they are indeed such–have any of them led to people thinking differently about the way they live? Or have consumers of Apple products just found more convenient and efficient ways to continue living the same life they already did? I argue the latter, those in the Cult of Jobs the former.
Jobs is a force to be reckoned with. But in terms of real impact in the lives of ordinary people, he’s done little. In fairness, that’s his prerogative and I do not begrudge it to him. I don’t think he ever purported to be such, thus he can’t be a fraud to something he never pretended to do. But what I do object to is the posthumous invention of the Jobs contribution to humanity. The legacy of Jobs is the abundance of technology he produced. The tragedy of Jobs is the abundance of change he could have enacted.
That Steve Jobs, erroneously and posthumously labeled as a rebel, passed away on the same day as two true rebels in Shuttlesworth and Bell is nothing short of ironic. The most remarkable thing about Jobs, Shuttlesworth, and Bell is that each imagined society not as it was but as it could be. All three men refused to settle for the current state of affairs; Jobs at Apple, Shuttlesworth in Birmingham, and Bell everywhere. But if people want to appreciate what Jobs was all about, which I support, then they shouldn’t soil his contributions by pretending he did something that he didn’t. To speak the truth about the man he was and the man he wasn’t would be genuinely rebellious–and in doing so we could pay due honor and respect to the actual rebels who died on Wednesday: Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth and Derrick Bell.
It’s crazy. I had talked earlier in the week with Eyevleegbruh about the inspiration and influence of Steve Jobs, unaware of his coming peril. Discussed him with my mother, linesister and a few more friends, having been further inspired by Jobs’ philosophy after a disparaging ‘lunch with friends’. Had his 2005 Stanford Commencement Speech on instant replay for the past week. I wonder if Steve Jobs’ friends ever took him out to lunch and told him he needed to change, cause he wasn’t living life pragmatically? Well I did.
Last Friday, I was taken to lunch by two friends (who were asked by another friend/associate to do it), as an intervention…who out of supposed care and love proceeded to disseminate my character and tell me how I need to change. We’ll get to the exposition on that later in the post, but for a quick reference: I as an adult found this to be offensive, that someone would dismiss my intelligence as an ever evolving adult to do better and feel they had any right to offer their opinion on me as fact. They were telling me I need to change because I’m too random to deserve a job. The whole time, I’m thinking about that speech from Steve Jobs’.
Typically I am suppose to post on Wednesday, I even typed up a whole post on Tuesday night, entitled “Connecting the Dots” in reference to that same Stanford Commencement Speech and that lunchervention, then headed out the house to meet up with friends. I made a quick stop at a club in the city where I bumped into the one ‘friend’ who had requisite the lunch and one of the actual participants. After a quick hello, I was shuttled into the club, where I quickly decided I didn’t want to stay. So I left. While walking down 14th street, I see my same associates up ahead. I was apprehensive about walking up to them, so I walked over to the side and around them. My apprehension was proved sound, when I got within ear shot to hear them talking about me, with the one girl’s boyfriend in tow. The snippet I heard wasn’t encouraging, so I kept it moving back home. I was too over it to edit the post I had already written and decided to postpone my posting till today, Thursday.
Then Steve Jobs dies. I know in his wake a lot of people will be referencing Jobs’ philosophy on living fearlessly and following your heart. I don’t know that many people actually believe it and accept it in others. Forbes has previously referenced that in this job market a creative and innovator like Jobs’ would be passed over for the more organizational types. Everybody is on the innovation bandwagon, but when someone doesn’t fit into their boxes or can be easily defined, they feel threatened. The American dream is set with expectations, that while many will taut Jobs’ as the best that ever was, will defy his legacy by placing their expectations of success on others. To fail in American culture is unacceptable. To take the time to discover ones self and walk down their own unbeaten path, is really only acceptable for those who already made it. Jobs, Gates, Neeleman…all bucked the system, defied expectations and impacted global culture in a major way. Or maybe it’s only the legacy of White men who have the right to live according to their own standard. That’s a post for another day, but for now I refuse to allow my race and womanhood place burden on my legacy. In that famous speech at Standford, the point that I have carried with me, was when Jobs stated:
Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.
I decided that I would live by my heart when I dropped out of college in 2005. Funny enough, two friends tried to have an intervention with me then over the importance of a piece a paper with a distinguished name on it. They feared I would end up being a really smart cat lady with no success or love. I’m deathly allergic to cats…so yeah but no. I proceeded to spend the next 6 years figuring out myself, going through maturation and discovering what my passions really are. Connecting the dots through culture. Then I decided as Economaniac would put it, that I wanted to purchase my ticket to play in the corporate world. I fed into the idea of needing validation, that before I could really take on my own personal career endeavors, I need to work for someone else so that people would hear me when I speak. Which brings us to this lunch intervention.
In this search for validation, ie: Jouelzy needs to get a “real” job, I was advised that to put my pride aside and reach out to my network, my friends and ask for help. I’m an Aries, we don’t like asking for help. Well, what’s the worst that can be said? In theory it’s “no” and you’re no worst off then where you already were. Or so I thought….
I’ve asked maybe a handful people. Two of those people told me no in a roundabout way…no without saying no. They both were women and the closest to my inner social ring. In email form they were polite to me, but in turn they both divulged less than stellar opinions of me to my friends. One girl, we were nothing more than roommates, she’s done shady shit before and so, I can wave my hand and move on. The latter, we’ll call her Girl A, however, supposedly cares about me, or cares enough that she doesn’t want to offend me to my face. So she called two other friends, we’ll call Girl B and C, to have a talking with me about why she ain’t f*cking with me on the job tip. Now Girl C, also happens to be friends with the first girl/former roommate, and now that Girl A has followed her sentiments, Girl C has decided that she should offer me advice based on their opinions of me.
I’m going to go with this, in my heart of hearts, I do believe that Girl B and C are my friends, and they decided to hold this intervention of sorts out of love and genuine care. But they took a big misstep. One, they validated the opinions of two people who don’t really care about me and haven’t had much positive to say in general. Two their approach was backhandedly offensive. Ganging up on someone, or to put it in nicer terms, placing a person in a situation where a group of people are confronting them and then telling them not to be defensive is never pretty. Oh…so you’re just going to back me into a corner and I’m suppose to be like, ‘yes you’re right’. Unless a person is a drug addict, alcoholic, or detrimentally hurting themselves, this group “don’t be defensive while I tell you ’bout yourself’” scenario is NEVER a good look. I learned this from pledging a sorority and haphazardly attempting to do this myself, under the facade of “we just want to talk it out.” The person you trying to talk it out with while wagging your finger at them, is not going to hear 75% of what you have to say because the feeling of being attacked will cancel out all that sh*t. Especially with women. Well…aren’t women the only ones that do this type stuff anyway?
What really bothered me in this setting was that my life decisions were questioned as if to make a mockery of me. At one point Girl C, questioned whether I have ever been committed to anything for 6 months to a year. LOL, my bachelors, masters and financial/active status in my sorority just happened to fall into my lap. Then she haphazardly tried to make an example of my last job effort, as if to say I was fired because…what….she didn’t know, nor had the right to know, but somehow I found myself explaining myself, over sh*t I had never intended to share with her anyway. Wait, wait, wait…aren’t I an adult. And if you really cared, you’d ask in a caring manner and offer your opinion as NOTHING MORE than your opinion. Not as some fact I need to live by. It dismisses the idea that I am adult enough to be aware of my actions and working towards doing better. I can take criticism because I definitely dish it out. However, I’m direct to the person and only offer it as just my opinion, accepting them as an adult capable of making their own decisions.
Then to walk down 14th street and catch wind of how Girl A really feels about me as she broadcasts it loudly with her boyfriend and Girl B. I don’t remember asking her for a chance, but she doesn’t feel like I deserve one anyway…or at least that’s what I heard. *shrugs* Girl…bye.
To prevent this from turning into a rant, I will end this here.
It’s unfortunate that people I asked for help couldn’t turn to me and offer their honest opinion or advice. That I have to be setup to hear it or hear it walking down the street is shameful. I do thank this whole situation for waking me up and realizing how vulnerable I had made myself by opening up to everyone’s opinion of me through this job hunt process. I was only half living for me, while trying to stuff the rest of me into some box. It’s a reason it hasn’t been working. I’m too big for that ish.
I’m going to keep living according to my heart, and actually put into application the words of Steve Jobs.
Boy oh Boy! The Republicans look like Kerry in 2004! They do not exactly have faith in any of their candidates, but they will get behind someone just to make a real race and possibly ignite debate. As a true sign of desperation, they have flocked to a first term executive of a typically liberal state. I can see how they would find faith in this man. He did, (I reiterate) win as a Republican in a typically liberal state. His ability to embody the ideal “moderate republican” was able to transform to a “W.” After what feels like 15 debates for the Republican primary candidates, it is a bit bittersweet to see their party virtually abandon the prospectives and use the media to convince Mr. Christie to enter the race.
The way I see it, Christie is in perfect position. He has definitively stated that he is not ready. However, he then has the ability to make powerful speeches, no pressure, no message, just him being himself and speaking on behalf of the views and issues for which he feels strongly about. Deep inside, I feel he will not run, but possibly equip himself for a cabinet position, sharing a ticket, or at the bare minimum, speaking at the National Convention. Then he will have 4 years to diet like a madman. He can finally stop his secret trips to South Street in Philly for a few Jim’s Cheesesteaks, followed by a pie from Lorenzo’s. (I’m making this up, I do not really care what he eats) Nevertheless, Christie presents a pleasant mixture of charisma and political intellect, the latter lacked in W.
Whenever a presidential election comes, we look for the person who has that “special something.” It is a quality unfound in those close to us. One person contains a reasonable amount of each quality that makes them presidential. We all know from recent history that the campaign never end. Recent history shows that presidential campaigns are more prolific than actually winning and running the office. I’m not anti-Obama, but for some reason the Who’s “Won’t Get Fooled Again” seems to represent the feeling of the country on a macro level. I voted for Hilary in the primary and Obama in the general election. I do not think Obama fooled us, but I think he misconstrued his ability to win people over with charismatic showcases versus actually having ability to run an office at the executive level. I do not believe that experience is everything (hence, I voted for Obama). Obama attempted to hide his inexperience by filling his cabinet with key individuals who contributed to the financial crisis…Larry Summers. Let’s also not forget, for the record, anytime Obama speaks about the economy, stocks decrease. The proper analogy would be that Obama is anthrax to the stock market. Even after his grandstanding, he still loves to hold $40k fundraisers for his banker pals.
I may be alone in this next statement, but I feel like we need some sort of mortal second coming to provide comfort on all of the aspects where we continue to lack. If we listen to the polls, most of the country has limited faith in Obama’s governing ability and even less faith in the prospective Republican candidates. Forget the financial crisis, we have a leadership crisis!
Chris Christie may very well contain the attributes that provide faith in providing a new more organized path of leadership. Unfortunately, even if he decides to enter, his self doubting will require an answer, which could ultimately doom his campaign. I hope he runs. I think we need a new healthy debate with a new fat hot-shot. Obesity is not equivalent to brain power, except the one part of the brain that knows when to put the fork down along with when to stop purchasing ice cream. Obama was, still is a smoker. I guess in this country, even with all the bad health shit that comes with smoking, being a fat-ass is still worse. As a fellow fat person, I cannot agree. If someone ever discounted me (pretty sure it has already happened) just because I am fat, it would bother me until no end. The vindictive part of me would prefer to keep eating while winning an election just to prove being thin and charismatic are not the definition of equilibrium in connection with winning a political election.
I do not know if Christie is the answer. I do know that I am uninspired and not confident about my options for the future. I’m readying myself to apply to an Ivy League business school, knowing damn well that it would not be smart for me to leave my job right now. I also know, that the debt may very well not be worth it, which is a complete 180 in connection with my thoughts just 5 years ago. Who knows what will become of this country. In the spirit of high school class presidents who promise free lunch, if elected, the Fat Black Economaniac would end the wars, re-kindle our isolationist World War II policies, and focus on a strong domestic program. I would work hard to convince corporate business leaders that China is not the answer. Start manufacturing here in America again and I would come up with a decent “legal” wage. Yeah I know….I’m not getting elected with that bullshit….shoot! Hip Hop didn’t stay on our shores either!
