I was born by a young, single, radical, intellectual mother who was bred in the deep south and the youngest of 12. In my earliest memories I am attached to my mother for dear life and surrounded by loving, powerful, passionate and revolutionary women. My mother and these women shaped, molded and fired me in a kiln that gave permanence to a deep understanding of self that would provide a resilience and invisible bubble to repel the trauma that would later come.
A beautiful and rebellious, strong spirit of a boy entered my life in the form of a little brother. In the fog of it all he was swept from my arms without a goodbye.
I managed extreme emotions, and this was the beginning of Poker Face. I’m not sure what saved me from taking a deep dive. Maybe the kiln had done its job after all.
In the midst of an absent father, the early impressions were devastating. Thank goodness for my uncles. They redeemed these roles and I have fond memories of what father, protector, provider, from a tender loving man could really mean. Those moments went far and left an imprint.
My blood father and 7 siblings were revealed but the earth then gave me a gift and bore me a father through my mother’s salvation and redemption. This father was regal and graced in gold.
Over the years the confusion transformed and evolved into compassion and passion fueled by a love that had been deeply embedded by my ancestors.
It was this love that protected me from despising my blackness
Which from childhood had been relentlessly referred to as wrong, ugly and a curse.
It was this love that protected me from being swallowed and compromised by white intrusion and culture.
It was this love that protected me and allowed me to exist in an alternate utopian reality
Amidst the destruction in my community and serve as a creative conduit
Outside of My Utopia
On my street
High School
3. A boy was shot in the hallway when I was in 9th grade. Found out years later he was our Lt Chief of Police’s brother
4. Ice was shot and had to be confined to a wheelchair
5. Shanee was stabber over 10 times by her boyfriend
A beautiful and rebellious, strong spirit of a boy entered my life in the form of a little brother. In the fog of it all he was swept from my arms without a goodbye.
I managed extreme emotions, and this was the beginning of Poker Face. I’m not sure what saved me from taking a deep dive. Maybe the kiln had done its job after all.
In the midst of an absent father, the early impressions were devastating. Thank goodness for my uncles. They redeemed these roles and I have fond memories of what father, protector, provider, from a tender loving man could really mean. Those moments went far and left an imprint.
My blood father and 7 siblings were revealed but the earth then gave me a gift and bore me a father through my mother’s salvation and redemption. This father was regal and graced in gold.
Over the years the confusion transformed and evolved into compassion and passion fueled by a love that had been deeply embedded by my ancestors.
It was this love that protected me from despising my blackness
Which from childhood had been relentlessly referred to as wrong, ugly and a curse.
It was this love that protected me from being swallowed and compromised by white intrusion and culture.
It was this love that protected me and allowed me to exist in an alternate utopian reality
Amidst the destruction in my community and serve as a creative conduit
Outside of My Utopia
On my street
- I remember when i was around 9 or 10 a boys father had been killed by another boys father
- A woman shot and killed a man that was breaking into her house
High School
3. A boy was shot in the hallway when I was in 9th grade. Found out years later he was our Lt Chief of Police’s brother
4. Ice was shot and had to be confined to a wheelchair
5. Shanee was stabber over 10 times by her boyfriend