Archive | March, 2009

…and in other housekeeping news

30 Mar

housekeeping

Don’t forget to find The Uppity Negro on Twitter and follow some random posts of mine, lol.

Oh by the way, The Uppity Negress will be here on this weekend, maybe I can get her to do a guest post, lol.

In other news to follow:

1.  I’ve inquired about post-graduate work and I plan to include The Network in on my process toward that ultimate goal

2.  It’s getting toward the end of the school year, which means final papers and studying for tests will be coming up, so if posts become a bit more sporadic, my apologies.

3.  I’ve noticed that WordPress has a REALLY great spam catcher, as a result, some actual real comments get caught.  So if you don’t see your comment post for some time, my apologies.  I only go through the spam catcher every once in a blue moon.  It wasn’t because I didn’t want to hear what you said, just–well, the spam catcher doing what it does.

3.  Um, it’s about that time that I’d LOVE to get some topics from some readers, what would you absolutely LOVE hearing my take on, just either drop me an email (uppitynegronetwork at gmail.com) or drop it in the comment box below.

Keep it uppity and keep it truthfully radical, JLL

Celebrating the Life of a Premier Uppity Negro John Hope Franklin

26 Mar

cs_hope_franklin_02_dla

It’s an honor and privilege to say that I share the same alma mater as the Dr. John Hope Franklin who passed on this past Wednesday at the age of 94.  It’s even more of a privilege to say that I got to see him in person during my one year tenure at Fisk University.

It was a big deal the day he came, and fellow alumnus Nikki Giovanni was there along with all of the Board of Trustee’s. If my memory is correct, I do believe it was for Jubilee Day 2005.  If it wasn’t, forgive me for the error in my memory, and just to hear the man talk and to see him walking up to Jubilee Hall for the book signing was amazing.  He talked clearly and lucidly about his life story.

It was a great honor.

It also reminded me of the atmosphere that helped created Fisk.  Some schools lack a culture, such as my previous school prior to Fisk, Dillard University.  The legacy that was Dillard had fallen deaf on the ears of the students.  There was no school pride except when the Dillard-Xavier game was to be played.  There were failed attempts on behalf of the provost, but still the rapport between administration and students was so horrible, most students just did the best they could.  It took Hurricane Katrina for a majority of Dillard students to learn the school’s alma mater.

Not the case at Fisk.

random-fisk-graduationSo on Jubilee Day 2005, that first Thursday of the month on the 5th of October, I remember sitting in the chapel on Fisk campus and seeing such the pride that all the students had for their school and the idea of “her sons and daughters ever on the altar” ringing triumphantly throughout the chapel, that I was fully unprepared for Fisk’s school song to be sung.  Everyone interlocks their arms and launches into a rousing chorus lead by the Fisk Jubilee Singers which were placed in the balcony for that day singing:

 

The warm and genial setting sun
Lights up the hills with mellow hue
Where Fisk our alma mater stands
Majestic dear old gold and blue
Then hurrah and hurrah 
For the gold and the blue
Her sons are steadfast 
Her daughters true

And by that time I was trying not to lose it, because all I could hear in my head was “Fair Dillard, gleaming white and spacious green, we love thy every blade and tree….”

But when Fisk’s alma mater slows down and eases into the 

Where e’er we be, 
We shall still love thee
Fisk!  Our alma mater!

with such deep and dark tones, working the eight part harmony–

WHEW!!

It just does something to your spirit!!

So, to the fellow Fisk alumnus who’s crossed that final river, you’re work has spoken for itself; what you did helped a people find their voice and you definitely made the difference, and you will ever be on the altar of Fisk University.  

Ever on the altar, 

Fellow Fisk Alumni, The Uppity Negro

Care to share those seminal HBCU stories that made you just swell with pride that you made the right decision to go to an HBCU, feel free to drop those stories down in the comment box below.

UNN Book Reviews: I’m So Falling Behind

26 Mar

Here’s an article sent by the publicist of author Marc Blatte.  I hopefully plan on getting around to reviewing his novel Humpty Dumpty Was Pushed.  For those interested in another review from fellow blogger and commenter Citizen Ojo on his blog,The Desultory Life and Times of a Public Citizen.

Enjoy.

God Love Ed McBain and Evan Hunter Too
By Marc Blatte,
Author of Humpty Dumpty Was Pushed: A Novel

Before I was introduced to Ed McBain I knew Evan Hunter. His book Blackboard Jungle had riveted me and I’d been scared out of my wits by The Birds for which he wrote the screenplay.
 
I met him through his son Richard, when I was seventeen in my senior year in High School. That was the year my parents moved from a very modest garden apartment where if you could afford to own one, your car was Chevy or Ford American, to a nice home with our own backyard, in the tony town of Bedford, where everyone owned at least one European luxury model. I went from going to a local high school where the parent/celebrity was a brawny wrestler Arnold Skolin, “The Golden Boy” to one where the parent/celebrities like Howard Cossell, Wide World of Sports, Jules Styne composer “I’ve Heard That Song Before”; “I Should Care”; “It’s Been a Long, Long Time”; “Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!” and Evan Hunter were famous for their mental prowess.
 
My ascendance into Northern Westchester’s rarified locale was rough. Try climbing Everest in the dark, without an oxygen mask or a guide for that matter. I was in a foreign land where nothing jibed with my earlier experiences. It was a place where young people wrote poetry and being a victim of a random act of violence was not even a remote possibility. Emotions were locked down and cool. In Upper Westchester casually tattered ill-fitting clothes looked like money not like where I was from when wearing the same clothes as those rich kids meant that your family was too poor to get you new ones. Lunch was eaten slowly, without fear that anyone would take yours away. Slapstick was not funny, sarcasm was; and for a student to work after school was as rare as shopping at K-mart. I was clueless about all that as exemplified by my feeling lucky when I scored a 4:00 to 7:00 pm weekdays job, landscaping at a local nursery.
 
I also played in a rock band. After work I would go straight to band rehearsals, invariably arriving covered in mud and pine needles. We rehearsed in the playroom of Evan’s massive concrete and glass modern house, (the first I’d seen). It had a deep conversation pit around a fireplace, a pool, a housekeeper, a grand piano, and as accessories, two Mercedes in the driveway. The fridge was filled with Heineken. I had never seen beer in a green glass bottle until then, only opaque brown or clear, but more likely in a can.
 
One night while the band was practicing The Man himself came in for a listen. It was early spring and he had just come back from skiing in Switzerland, looking relaxed, smiling, pipe in hand. When we took a break he came over to introduce himself.
 
We exchanged greetings then he asked me where I was from. I told him I lived in Bedford. He squinted as he scrutinized my face. “You’re not from Bedford.” His response was delivered with a lot of good will and warmth.
 
I was taken aback trying to figure out what he was getting at? I mean my family had a home there. I figured that sufficed. Meanwhile he was looking around the room, taking in the other kids the fortunate ones who had grown up in that exclusive part of the world. “Where did you live before that?”
 
“White Plains.” I said.
 
“You’re not from White Plains. Come on Marc, where are your people from?”
 
I paused. It was not a question I was expecting. Why would he care? “The Bronx.”
 
“Now you’re talking” he said and patted me on the shoulder. “You know I’m from the Bronx. My real name is Salvatore Albert Lombino. I went to Evanda Childs High School. That’s where I took my first name from.”
 
My mother had gone there. It was a Bronx institution that I knew well.
 
“And my last name I took from Hunter College.”
 
It was a bonding moment. Later that year he wrote a recommendation letter to Kenyon College admissions on my behalf, and the following year his son Richard and I wrote a musical together that Jose Ferrer optioned for Broadway.
 
Several months after that first encounter I learned he was also Ed McBain, the brilliant writer of mysteries. I’ve been reading his 87th Precinct stories ever since. God bless him and Evan too.

Below is bio of Marc Blatte:

Marc Blatte, author of Humpty Dumpty Was Pushed: A Novel, a native and longtime resident of New York City, grew up in the Bronx, played baseball in the Roy Campanella Little League and was a protege of the bestselling author Ed McBain.

After a brief stint west of the Hudson at Kenyon College, Marc returned to the city that never sleeps to become a wunderkind of the songwriting industry, dubbed by legendary record producer Clive Davis as one of the “fortunate ones.” He has composed material for major stars, and was nominated for a Grammy Award for best R&B Song.

He has shaken Joe Frazier’s hand at Small’s Paradise, danced with Sherry Lansing, fixed Debbie Harry’s sink, met Henry Kissinger, and had an unexpected visit from the Wu Tang Clan. He has worked as a golf caddy, Rotor Rooter man, tenement superintendent, keyboard player in a lounge band, was a hip-hop white boy pioneer record producer . . . and lived to tell.

The father of three daughters, Marc and his wife Jeanne divide their time between New York and Nicaragua. He is currently at work on his next mystery featuring Black Sallie Blue Eyes.

Keep it uppity and keep it truthfully radical, JLL

Another Lesson I Learned from Chris Brown and Rihanna

25 Mar

So, some time last week I was on Yahoo Instant Messenger and one of my friends sent me yet another YouTube Chris Brown and Rihanna clip.  Check it out.

This most certainly wasn’t the first and only popular YouTube clip of these two circulating the internet.

Well, the second one was the first one I saw and the next day I saw it posted on one of the blogs I frequent.  Now I laughed at the Mortal Kombat one and sent it to all of my friends on my YIM list, and I hooted and holla’d when I saw the first one.  But then in the midst of the absolute laughing that I had, I thought to myself, Are we really lampooning domestic violence?

In the black community, we’ve had very high profile domestic violence cases over the years.  First to mind is the whole Ike and Tina mess, Mike Tyson and Robin Givens alleged spousal abuse, the probable spousal abuse from one Orenthal James Simpson to his now deceased wife, and more recently the Fool Fest that is Juanita Bynum and her former spouse Bishop Thomas Weeks.  The whole Juanita Bynum spectacle garnered such magnanimity that Professor Jonathan Walton wrote an open letter to Bynum that went viral–not a YouTube video.

I emailed a colleague the first YouTube video and his response was that he lost all respect for Rihanna and of course for Chris Brown because she went back to him–and he added it probably had more to do with PR purposes than anything else.  Well, I’m more or less agreeing with my colleague on this one.  How are we supposed to take this whole thing seriously since it turned into the biggest media story of that week?  She went back to him–and they went to P. Diddy for counseling!!!!

Take care of ya own kids bruh and let Chrianna work out their own problems!!

I think these lampoon videos are indicative of just how surreal celebrity life is.  No one lampoons the stories we hear of women beaten or killed by abusive spouses on our local late night news.

That would just be unconscienable.

But, I think the ability to make such intricate comedic clips proves my gut feeling:

I don’t think Chris Brown beat Rihanna.

Yeah, I said it.

Somehow we all believed that OJ beat Nichole Brown and that “he did it.”  We know and believed Ike knocked the hell out of Tina, and made her “eat the cake” as well.  We even believe that Juanita Bynum had gotten stuck by Bishop Thomas Weeks (although maybe provoked to hit her).  Somehow, deep down, I don’t think most of us, from the teeny-boppers to adults who actually paid enough attention, actually think Chris Brown did this.  It doesn’t fit his M.O. as we see in the public.  Most of us have this clean cut image of the guy who was even on Sesame Street singing with Elmo.  A woman beater–a Rihanna woman beater–we just don’t believe it.

Not to mention that he had to have been one helluva driver to beat her while driving, I’m just not convinced about the veracity of the whole thing as presented by the media.  Am I denying she was beat, not totally, but um, anyone seen “Thin Line Between Love and Hate” ?

Believe it or not, I still haven’t seen this movie from beginning to end, but Chris Brown is um–Chris Brown.  And from all accounts, he “runs it” with a lot of people.  And I’ve personally heard with both sexes, but this is Atlanta, erryone is gay is down here if you let some people tell the story.  Regardless, the two main stories are that either Rihanna had confronted Chris with a text message from another chick or that she all of a sudden had herpes.  Both are unconfirmed, but both involve relationship infidelity. 

Now, if you go to minute 4:20 you’ll see one possible scenario:

No one EVAR talks about women slapping the hell out of men.

Not excusing a man going postal on a woman for whatever reason, but what homegirl was wrong, but still indicative of how many women react toward men when infidelity occurs.  Not to mention the plethora of problems behind the philosophy that anytime a black man doesn’t want a black woman that it’s because the black man can’t handle a**clears throat**

strong black woman

But that’s another post.

Well, I’m not fully saying that Rihanna inflicted those bruises herself per the clip at about 8:30, but damn, these various LA suburb and Hollywood police departments deal with celebrities all the time, and know how to be discreet–but magically Rihanna’s picture is the one that gets leaked out. 

All of this just doesn’t sit right.

And what do we say if she actually inflicted those wounds herself?

Did I mention she went back to the guy?

In the post Chrianna fallout, what do yo have to say about the whole foolishness?  Do you think Chris Brown really did hit her?  If he did, was she merely the victim of what happens to many other women who feel trapped–even though Rihanna is far from being trapped in this relationship.  Are these lampoon videos appropriate or should we take them for face value and just laugh?

Keep it uppity and keep it truthfully radical, JLL

I Ain’t Hatin’…Bad Paintings of Barack Obama

24 Mar

bad-paintings-of-barack-1

Seriously, caption this photo guys!

bad-barack-obama-paintings-21

And Caption This!

These pictures are courtesy of Badpaintingsofbarackobama.com and I just DIED laughing at that first one.  Just leave your thoughts below!

Keep it uppity and keep it truthfully radical, JLL

Which Set of Rules Are We Playing By?

23 Mar

black-referee

So this past week allowed for ignorant tycoon Bernard Madoff to finally see the inside of a jail cell rather than his $7,000,000.00 Manhattan penthouse; Pope Benedict XVI, the most conservative we’ve seen in a long time, informed us that condoms increase HIV/AIDS infection, and this was on the heels of the HIV/AIDS numbers for the District of Columbia reaching untold proportions and then Senator Christopher Dodd lied about his ties to the now infamous “Dodd Amendment” that miraculously found it’s way into the stimulus bill that, yes, let’s admit it, got ramrodded through Congress.  And now the people are calling for both Dodd and Secretary of the Treasury Timothy Geithner’s head on the proverbial platter like John the Baptist.

Well, I just want to know what set of rules are we playing by so I can judge accordingly.

Congress StimulusSo, Chris Dodd told a bald face lie.  Generally the rules state that if you lie, on something like this, you either step down or at the bare minimum, you don’t get re-elected.

Can someone please tell me why this didn’t happen with former president George W. Bush and his cohorts lied about the certainty of weapons of mass destruction, telling the public that it was the sole reason for us going into Iraq, but you’d never hear comparisons from the right between these two.  But let the record show, this AIG bailout was approved still under the Bush administration and when they approved the bonuses back last fall, no one said a blessed word.  This entire current administration was forced to deal with more things at first than any other president probably since Lyndon Johnson, and even then, he still had the benefit of being a part of the previous administration.

Obama has had to deal with everything and the kitchen sink from economic issues, managing our empire reaches overseas and foreign policy, maintaining national security, addressing education and yes even attempting to address health care which for the most part he hasn’t so far.  Not to mention Obama is dealing with a regime change.  In the peaceable transitions of power that we have here in the US, such as a shift between a Jimmy Carter and a Ronald Reagan or a Reagan/Bush era to that of the Clinton administration for example, or even as far back to the end of the FDR/Truman era, the US economy wasn’t burdened at such a level, coupled with a war, it was either one or the other.  This is the near equivalent of when Dillard Univerisity’s 2005 incoming president, Marvalene Hughes was set to begin her tenure as president that Hurricane Katrina came by and her first semester the school didn’t exist! And even when the school did get reorganized with just spit and bubble gum, they were operating out of a hotel!!!

We tell our kids when they’re a kid to use words to make amends, when we get older we see adults employing the “get them before they get us” mentality especially in the political arena.  

What set of rules are we playing by?  Then when Obama decides to take a conciliatory approach with Iran, he gets criticized by the opposition for negotiating with terrorists.

Now, on a slightly off the previous topic, I understand that this congressional bill passed taxing AIG bonuses at 90% was a reaction to public fallout trying to make sense of these CEOs and “muckety mucks” as my aunts would say, getting all of these kickbacks–CONSISTENTLY!  I mean, with every passing week and day it seems we hear of some lavish spending for no reason.  Even Friday, when I began this post,  Rick “I blog for a living” Sanchez was on the campus of Morehouse College doing his show today, Atlanta Mayor Shirley Franklin made the comment that no improvements such as the $10,000,000.00 remodeling of a CEO office.

Interestingly enough, I had a friend make this off-the-wall comment that we weren’t complaining all that much about Bush until after the September 11th attacks.  I wheeled to him and said, “No, we were still hot about that selection that took place that previous fall.”  And then I went into angry Negro mode about how it would have taken only one member from the U.S. Senate to cosign on the bill proposed by the CBC that would have at least stalled the certification of the electoral college.  

*********************************

I’m not rolling out the red carpet for Obama anymore, and I’m not saying that it should be.  In fact, I’m quite clear that I’m disappointed so far in this administration.  I feel as though campaign promises have been broken already.  

Change we can believe in my foot!

michelleobama_gardeningThe only change I’ve really seen, and that I really like has come in the form of Lady Michelle O. and the kids Sasha and Malia.  Obama was hiring the left-overs from the Clinton administration to be on the Cabinet, and they were having tax problems.  We’re dealing with the EXACT same problems I’m convinced we’d have if Hillary Clinton or even John McCain had been elected.  Although, I’m mildly convinced McCain would have had a heart attack or something trying to keep a leash on Sarah “You betcha I’m running in 2012″ Palin who possibly would have sent not just the administration, but the whole country into a conservative tail-spin.

Be that as it may, I think we have a responsibility to play fair.

As I said before, no president has had so much on their plate on Day 1 in quite some time.  There are always the wartime presidents who come in with the ideological (Democrat vs. Republican) administration changes, but never coupled with such a bottoming economy inherited from a predecessor.  I do think we need to give Obama this random “First One Hundred Days” leeway at the absolute minimum.  But again, the bar wasn’t that high from the last eight years–I mean Bush had an approval rating down in the twenties after all was said and done, and Obama is not Bush.  Personally, I’m just waiting to see what he’s gonna do concerning health care and education.

By the way, we haven’t heard or seen from George W. since January 20–where the hell is he?!?!

Do you think we, the country, are giving Obama a fair shake or did we expect him to come in snap his fingers and wave a wand and magically this whole economic downturn was going to magically rectify itself?

Keep it uppity and keep it truthfully radical, JLL

Finding Your Wheelhouse

20 Mar

New York Yankees vs. Kansas City Royals

This was a subject I had been thinking about doing for a while, but blogging is really a task, and I’d much rather sit around and watch the television in my absolute free time–which really for the most part is non-existent, I just make what I have free.  So, I’ve been rather remiss getting around to blogging for blogging’s sake, not to mention writing about the daily foibles of AIG, Secretary of the Treasury Timothy Geithner, debating whether or not President Barack Obama has lived up to his promises or are some of us really having buyer’s remorse.

So, as we in the black community finally place our “I Hate Tavis Smiley” buttons onto our cork boards in kitchen, I feel compelled to write the following about wheelhouses.

I’m not sure how many baseball fans I have out there reading this, but if you are, you probably know where I’m going with this.

Little known uppity Negro fact: I played one season of baseball at a DIII school, and if I told you our record I’d cry.  But nonetheless, we sucked horribly.  But it was a good experience, and it put me on a team sport.  We had a few highlights such as our first baseman and short stop who were relatively decent and probably could’ve gotten a scholarship to another school if they had wanted to.  But, we got murdered when we played the other white schools in our conference because these were small, heavily funded white liberal arts colleges with beaucoup money with more than one team–yes, for one school we played their “B team” which had, 24 players–count ‘em–to our twelve.  We barely qualified for a team.  I remember playing the other two black schools, not in our conference, Miles out of Alabama and Rust College out of Mississippi and we had a much better and evenly matched game.

I was a horrible outfielder, I think it was more lack of confidence than anything.  We were horrible at the whole camaraderie; we clowned and joked the whole time with “yo mama” jokes on the bus and did very little team uplifting.  We never did anything as a team more or less, never hit the weight room together.  I mean we came to practice, but meh…we were a better intramural team than an actual team.  Suffice it to say, I wasn’t a bad hitter.

The problem as I remember it was that we really didn’t have a pitcher on our team.  You know after about that sixth inning of maybe 80 pitches, you need to put up your closer–HA!  We really didn’t have one.  As a result, I developed a relatively bad eye for watching the ball.  It’s easy enough to watch the ball coming at 40 mph and rockin’ the hell out of it from the coaches hand.  Its easy enough to have a ball tossed at you just to work on your swing in the basement of the gym because we had to share the field with a track team and other kinds of foolishness.  It got a bit harder to watch the ball come out of a pitching machine at closer to 80 or 90, but still, you knew exactly where the ball was coming out of–and the ball was always going to go to the exact same spot—or the wheelhouse.

I remember when one of the guys was warming me up pitching at me and I rocked the hell out of a ball, he said “I musta put the ball in your wheelhouse.”  

I remember that day and I just remember that I was kinda in the zone and the coach was standing there with his usual look of frustration when he said “Wish you’d swing like that in a game.”  Now I had never heard that phrase before in my life, but from normal context clues and great inference, it wasn’t hard to figure out what he meant by that.  Then when I started paying attention to ESPN and what not, it’s relatively common jargon in baseball.  

For those of you still lost, Urban Dictionary puts the definition as:

In baseball this is the part of an individual’s swinging range in which as a hitter they can make the best contact with the ball. If a pitch is right in your wheelhouse it is right where you want it, in the spot where you have the best chance of hitting it well. 

The term is also often used to explain something that falls into a person’s area of expertise.

It’s that fat part of the bat that makes the ball feel more like hard squish as opposed to the cracking ding sound.  So at practice, when it was my turn for hitting rotation from the pitching machine, they knew to go deep out into left field because I was going to smash a line drive out that way, just about to the same spot, every time. 

Now granted my wheelhouse is not the same wheelhouse as, oh let’s say A-Rod or Manny Ramirez.  Clearly.  But nonetheless all of the opposing teams’ pitchers’ know just where that sweet spot is for powerhouse hitters and try their best NOT pitch it right there because of their bat comes in contact with the ball, it’s a wrap.

So just how do you deal with the crap life sends your way?  Do you just haphazardly stand at the plate hoping the opposition throws balls and by the grace of God you make it on base?  Or do you train for the event finding your own wheelhouse and when the opposition is throwing a strike, thinking it’s going to be a count against you, all you’re able to do is see the pitch coming, and know where the ball’s going to break and knock the hell out of it!

Now at first glance, swinging in your wheelhouse sounds boring and predictable, but if you really step back and look at it, you realise the genius of it’s design.  Even though it’s the same swing and the ball may go to the same place–it’s uniquely your swing and your spot.  No one else swings like you do, no one else is going to hit the ball quite like you.  But realise, your wheelhouse is YOUR sure fire way of getting on base.

Another lesson I learned from baseball is that every once in a while, the pitcher throws a change-up, and only the seasoned players have the eyes to watch where the ball is going.  Trust me, I wasn’t one of them.  But for those that can see where the ball is going, they can adjust their swing to match where the ball is going, and still rock the hell out of the ball into center field.  

It’s almost the equivalent of a mid-air dunk (cuz I’m sure I’ve lost a good chunk of my readers using baseball analogies, lol).

A change-up mid air MJ style.  After assessing the current situation and realizing that what had been initially planned wasn’t going to work, so, you adjusted and still got the basket.  The amazing thing is that it comes off as all the more beautiful of a hit, or a dunk, because masters at the sport make the change effortlessly.

So, hopefully someone reading this’ll decide to find their own wheelhouse in life and work it.  Work it till the wheels fall off.  Do it, do it, do it till you’re satisfied–whatever it is.  And be good at it.  Swinging in your wheelhouse is just a like a preacher who’s gotten to the end of his sermon and all of a sudden, puts her or his foot on the brake.  After raising the crowd up to a fevered pitch, then dropping all the way back down, then they slide into their hoop and by the time they’re done, they’ve killed the church running all around the pulpit doing all kinds of sick runs with their voice.  But the joy of watching a good preacher that does that is watching the preacher get happy about what they’re preaching.   It’s the same with operating in your wheelhouse; it’s a zone that you get into that you KNOW that you doing it, and doing it well!

It’s my wish that this has helped out someone.

Any comments and concerns or other random life analogies that hit you, feel free to share them in the comment box down below.

Keep it uppity and keep it truthfully radical, JLL

The Uppity Negro Is on “Twitter”

17 Mar

twitter_big

Um, yeah, this whole micro-blogging thing is weird and new.  

Especially since Facebook’s last update copied the Twitter format almost exactly, it’s like “why not.”  I had an account before, but I just didn’t feel like making a big deal about it until now.

Hopefully I’m giving the correct link right here for my Twitter page if you feel like following me.  If it’s wrong, just leave something in the comment box or hit my email uppitynegronetwork at gmail.com

Keep it uppity and keep it truthfully radical, JLL

East Texas Needs to Get It Together: Racial Profiling Still Exists

13 Mar

racial-profling-tenaha-texas

Now this is the third run-in with east Texas that I’ve noticed. 

The first was Jasper, Texas.

We all remember Jasper, Texas, the hometown of James Byrd, a black man who was dragged to death by John William King, and two other white men back in 1998.  And having friends from Texas, they had informed me that there were certain town to be careful of driving through.  Then on a more personal note, my cousin from Houston had advised my family on a road trip down there to be careful of one of those small towns like Corrigan or something because of a speeding ticket.

Now, I need to tell my dad next time they go to Houston, maybe they want to take the long way through Dallas as opposed to taking U.S. Highway 59 south out of Marshall.

Check out this following story (and here’s the link for all interested parties):

TENAHA, Texas— You can drive into this dusty fleck of a town near the Texas-Louisiana border if you’re African-American, but you might not be able to drive out of it—at least not with your car, your cash, your jewelry or other valuables.

That’s because the police here allegedly have found a way to strip motorists, many of them black, of their property without ever charging them with a crime. Instead they offer out-of-towners a grim choice: voluntarily sign over your belongings to the town, or face felony charges of money laundering or other serious crimes…

Officials in Tenaha, situated along a heavily traveled highway connecting Houston with popular gambling destinations in Louisiana, say they are engaged in a battle against drug trafficking and call the search-and-seizure practice a legitimate use of the state’s asset-forfeiture law. That law permits local police agencies to keep drug money and other property used in the commission of a crime and add the proceeds to their budgets.

 

Yes, you read it correctly.  And if you’re up on your critical thinking skills, yup, all this stuff is perfectly legal–for the most part.  What it amounts to is a loophole in the law.  Because of this asset-forfeiture law crap, the police are pulling over people for speeding, improper lane change and all other kinds of nonsense that small towns have been doing for years trying to bring in revenue, and then searching the cars and then accusing them of extortion.  

The property seizures are not just happening in Tenaha. In southern parts of Texas near the Mexican border, for example, Hispanics allege that they are being singled out.

According to a prominent state legislator, police agencies across Texas are wielding the asset-forfeiture law more aggressively to supplement their shrinking operating budgets.

“If used properly, it’s a good law-enforcement tool to see that crime doesn’t pay,” said state Sen. John Whitmire, chairman of the Senate’s Criminal Justice Committee. “But in this instance, where people are being pulled over and their property is taken with no charges filed and no convictions, I think that’s theft.”

David Guillory, an attorney in Nacogdoches who filed the federal lawsuit, said he combed through Shelby County court records from 2006 to 2008 and discovered nearly 200 cases in which Tenaha police seized cash and property from motorists. In about 50 of the cases, suspects were charged with drug possession.

But in 147 others, Guillory said the court records showed, police seized cash, jewelry, cell phones and sometimes even automobiles from motorists but never found any contraband or charged them with any crime. Of those, Guillory said he managed to contact 40 of the motorists directly—and discovered all but one of them were black.

“The whole thing is disproportionately targeted toward minorities, particularly African-Americans,” Guillory said. “None of these people have been charged with a crime, none were engaged in anything that looked criminal. The sole factor is that they had something that looked valuable.”

In some cases, police used the fact that motorists were carrying large amounts of cash as evidence that they must have been involved in laundering drug money, even though Guillory said each of the drivers he contacted could account for where the money had come from and why they were carrying it—such as for a gambling trip to Shreveport, La., or to purchase a used car from a private seller.

Once the motorists were detained, the police and the local Shelby County district attorney quickly drew up legal papers presenting them with an option: waive their rights to their cash and property or face felony charges for crimes such as money laundering—and the prospect of having to hire a lawyer and return to Shelby County multiple times to attend court sessions to contest the charges.

The article went on to say that this practice was so routine that the police department had pre-signed and pre-notarized affidavits with blank spaces left for the police officer to sign and for the property seized to be described.

Well, this is the ultimate problem: the Mayberry’s of America have always needed revenue, and this economy isn’t helping.  I mean damn, City Hall can’t even pay to get their own windows repaired–that’s a sad state of affairs.  As a result of this dearth of revenue most small towns give out moving violations and call it a day.   There’s always the few instances where the one town sets of the speed traps or hides the stop sign by the world’s biggest tree and always catches the out-of-towners that go flying through, but this takes extortion to the next level.

It’s one thing to pull over and get janked for your earnings at the casino in Shreveport, but then once you realize that racial profiling has played a part into it makes this just unconscionable.

Jennifer Boatright, her husband and two young children—a mixed-race family—were traveling from Houston to visit relatives in east Texas in April 2007 when Tenaha police pulled them over, alleging that they were driving in a left-turn lane.

After searching the car, the officers discovered what Boatright said was a gift for her sister: a small, unused glass pipe made for smoking marijuana. Although they found no drugs or other contraband, the police seized $6,037 that Boatright said the family was carrying to purchase a used car—and then threatened to turn their children, ages 10 and 1, over to Child Protective Services if the couple didn’t agree to sign over their right to their cash.

“It was give them the money or they were taking our kids,” Boatright said. “They suggested that we never bring it up again. We figured we better give them our cash and get the hell out of there.”

And this would have still been egregiously out of order had this been an all-white family.

lakeview_terrace_xl_03-film-aSeriously, after watching “Lakeview Terrace” with Samuel L. Jackson, my fear for the police as a black male is heightened even more.  I already get the little nervous twitch when I see a cop in my rearview mirror.  I’ve only been pulled over one time, and that was more or less a legitimate pull over back in Chicago, but I was treated well and with respect and I’m not even sure if I told my parents about that one.  But, that was the only time while I was driving.  

Perhaps the “Fisk University Alumni” license plate holder has done its job.

But, I was pulled over with my friend sometime last year up in Cobb County headed toward the IHOP on Cobb Parkway and God Almightly we got a through search.  When I’m nervous I usually pull out my cell phone to text, and I had gotten hella nervous because I saw the second cop standing outside more or less monitoring me.  I didn’t want to pull it out, because last time that happened in Chicago, a black female cop shot and killed another black female thinking it was a gun.  When the cop had asked my friend to step out the car and had then asked me to step out the car, I’m sure he just knew I at least had a nickel sack on me because I had on baggy jeans, a track jacket and a fitted.

This was all on being pulled over because the light over his license plate was hanging too low.

I mean we both rolled our eyes at that because it was totally bogus, the license plate light was just fine.  They probably just saw the Florida tags and went with it.

And of course they didn’t find anything.

I think what was the supreme insult was that they continued to do a thorough search of the car including trunk after they had already asked us what we do and we told them we were both in a Master’s program.  I kept quiet for the whole ordeal, because I was fully prepared to go to Cobb County jail and the next day call Al Sharpton and make the biggest deal in the world about it and at least get the officers suspended.  I’m a perfect candidate: no record, get good grades, black male in a masters program–and a seminary at that–oh yes, I’d get something out of the deal.

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Let’s be clear: President Barack Obama never made the claim about this being a post-racial America.  That was the political machination of some dummy Democrats, aloof Liberals and the majority of the rest of self-professed white, conservative America.  All this media talk of “Obama and a post-racial America” is a bunch of bull$#!^ and most of us know it.  We can’t have a post-racial America when instances like this are still grabbing national attention, and moreover, worthy of national attention.  I mean SERIOUSLY people, this happens day in and day out across this country.  In the midst of police shootings–such as in Oakland and last December in Bellaire outside of Houston, Texas of a baseball player, we need to recognize that the battle is far from being over, and the war is not finished.

Hopefully Attorney General Eric Holder won’t be caught sleeping at the wheel on this one.

Leave you’re thoughts and comments down below.  Do you feel that this is a clear cut case of racial profiling, or were the cops merely just preying on the innocent and helpless, who just happened to be non-white?

The Uppity Negro Has a Come-up

11 Mar

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Just letting the saints know I just bought and iPod Touch.

I was informed through email yesterday that I was “a millennial” –just like that and I immediately felt convicted.  I’m a musician and have been playing the piano my whole life.  I don’t listen to music like that, and I most certainly don’t own a stereo set, but today I got the iPod Touch.  It’s only the 8GB joint, but still, it’s hot to me!!!!!

And yes, that’s this website up there in the picture I took with my cam phone.

Keep it uppity and keep it truthfully radical, JLL

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