River Wide, River Deep

SMH at white people mourning and moaning about Portland, a historically and currently racist city in a state that was pretty much developed as a center of white supremacy and separateness, in a country built on the attempted genocide and ethnocide of its Original People and the people enslaved to replace them.

White denial is astounding! “Stronger than dirt” or any known adhesive; longer lasting than Willie Wonka’s gobstopper; 100,000,000,000 times deeper than the Mariana Trench; more destructive than whatever killed off the dinosaurs.

Diagnosis is the first step towards treatment and healing. Denial doesn’t just prevent that process, it actively destroys its host and everything around it. It kills us all: soul, body, earth. Whiteness isn’t merely about your melanin levels, it’s a political choice that has real world ramifications. As with denial, help is available to those who seek it.

So wake up- it’s late and even Scotty canna hold ‘er any longer.

“I historically know much more about you than you will ever be able to dare to imagine about me. I did not invent you. I did not write ‘Gone With The Wind.’ You invented me. And you live with that invention. I don’t. I had to know what you REALLY think about me. You act it out every hour of every day what you REALLY think about me. Every institution in this country is based on what you think about me. There’s not a single institution that you have invented that’s not a racist institution. Not one. From the church to the unions. To say nothing of the insurance companies, to say nothing of the way you think you run the world. I know what you think about me. You don’t know… You don’t WANT to know… what I think about you.”

~ James Baldwin, in a 1987 CBS Interview

OXY or JUST MORONIC? J’accuse!

“July 28, 2018 NYT


What Happened to the Country That Made Us Citizens?


Growing up in a friendly Dallas suburb, I never imagined the hostility lurking beneath the surface.”

The above is in today’s NYT. I haven’t read it because after reading this plaintive blurb, my inner voice was screaming: “Black people!! We told everybody!” “Black people, First Nations people, American History, Freud…”

WTH white people and white people wannabes? How desperate were you, ARE you to live outside of reality? How extraordinarily prejudiced that you subvert or ignore whole, gigantic swaths of history and the present? How willing to sell your soul for a lie openly labeled as a made in the USA “DREAM“? How willing are you and have you been, to watch human beings and their children kidnapped; degraded; criminalized; beaten; pillaged; raped; bad mouthed; murdered; victimized by ethnocide and genocide, and yet stand aloof or in judgement because in this fleeting moment it’s not your poor white/light brown/darker-but-wealthier brown ass being victimized? Has your Dream become our nightmare?

Of course you should seek better lives for your kids, but that doesn’t necessitate buying into lies and abuse.

So no, I won’t read this nor any of the other late-to-the-party “realizations” and sad stories because you know what? BELIEVE BLACK PEOPLE. We run the gamut of human brilliance, foibles, and foolishness, but if there is one thing we excel at, it’s recognizing and calling out racism and its subsets and intersections, because you know what else? We and our First Nations cousins have been victims of atrocities for hundreds of years while you watched, occasionally clutched your pearls, looked away, or even applauded. You knew, you just valued your own possibilities of entre into whiteness more than our lives. You knew, you know now; you are and have been complicit in condoning and upholding white supremacy and I’m fresh out of pity. So, sit down in the back, own up to your culpability, be quiet and learn: we have much wisdom to impart.

Oh, and screw you all for the past 500 years.

He who does not oppose evil, commands it to be done (Leonardo Da Vinci)

June 30, 2018

So many of you today are heading out to stand up to tyranny and abuse. Go to help others, but also go to help yourselves and connect with other good souls. We are not alone, we are not beaten. Our Ancestors survived with fewer tools and without the ability we have to connect. True Power is not destroyed by the weapons they hold, but the steps to our victory are many and can be daunting.

Just remember that throughout history, long periods of relative peace and the level of prosperity many of us have presumed to be “normal” are in fact rare moments, and always hard won.

Stay strong in love, keep the faith, reach out to each other. Remember to take strategic retreats to renew the body and spirit because this is a lifelong struggle. The people who would diminish all life are always there and they never sleep. We have to take turns: one sleeps, the other watches. It’s been done before, we can do it now. A new world requires a new vision: stop using the Master’s blueprint and tools.

And don’t just take photos of beauty: memorize the sites and people you love. Hold them in your heart for the moments of despair or periods of isolation. This is wisdom from my elders.

Hold fast to your truths, but keep a humble heart: others may know more and have more pieces of the puzzle than you.

I love you all, People of The Good Heart: you are Gold and in the long game we’re playing, We’ve Got This!

In solidarity and love ❤️✊🏽❤️✊🏽🎶✊🏽❤️✊🏽❤️

Must The Children Lead Us?

To the other alleged adults critiquing the Parkland survivor-activists:

They are not yet adults. Chronologically, you are. They’re not supposed to, and couldn’t possibly know everything they need to get through life, much less take responsibility for changing society. That they are taking it on and doing so with courage and considerable clarity, is laudable and should humble a great many adults who see and complain about the problems, but have done little to shake this society out of the stupor and fear that holds it in thrall and leaves us vulnerable to charlatans, violence, and greed.

Who these young activist-leaders will be, their lifelong allegiances, etc. have yet to be fully determined. They are now responding to tragic violence that shook their lives and took the lives of friends and schoolmates. They are fearless in part because of their youth, but they are also fearless because they just survived a small massacre that should never have happened. They are angry, they are mobilized, they have purpose. It doesn’t make them perfect or demons, it makes them human and it makes them a force to be reckoned with.

Historically, revolutionaries come from every class. Most workers are no more revolutionary than the capitalists they work for. People occasionally wake up (or are awakened) and once they really do, they move to throw off the shackles of oppression where they find it: in the family, by race, gender, or class. If one is really awake, there is no choice. Stasis becomes intolerable and one must act to change the situation and circumstances.

To expect middle class high school kids who’ve been suddenly traumatized by murders to have done a realpolitik or other sophisticated analysis of their own class socialization is ridiculous. Most adults never have, so why expect it of them? Who were you in high school? How woke did you think you were and then how old were you before you realized you had just been turning over in your sleep?

These kids can’t go back to sleep. For better or worse, they’ve joined the millions of other traumatized, woke or awakening young folk from various walks of life. The difference is, these kids have a platform that allows them to be heard. You didn’t listen to the Black and Indigenous and Latino and and various other kids who’ve been victimized by violence for, oh, centuries. But you can see and hear these kids and apparently, that an uncomfortable situation that you’re bracing against. I get that, I just don’t care about your comfort. I’ve never believed in unrequited love and have little concern for those who display no concern for others. So take a proverbial chill pill, do some self reflective analysis and ask yourself why you’re so heavily invested in (figuratively) shooting these young people down? There are always critiques to be made, but when, how, and to what purpose are good questions to ask before jumping on the media blitz.

Again: adults should have done the work and adults should be picking up the slack now. If you don’t trust these kids, teach them in solidarity, otherwise you’re not far different than the conservative “critics” who practice overtly divisive tactics. It’s simple: lead, follow, or sit down quietly, out of the way of those who are doing the work.

And to those who think these kids are the group messiah: they’re not. Do your own work, stop waiting for saviors, and stop putting it all on a group of very bright, very courageous, but also very young, traumatized youths.

Everybody, please grow up.

Sainthood Not Required

This was inspired about two weeks ago by a friend who seemed to want to control my memories. I think it’s pretty common, but it rubs me the wrong way. I understand not allowing outright lies or even disrespect, but no matter how close we are to folks, we know them differently than do others.

I’m sure my dubious reputation as a relatively friendly, fairly feisty, determined-to-be curmudgeonly crank is in no danger, but I want you to promise me that after I’m dead, you will not forget those contrasts in my personality. I promise that I will haunt you if you try to cover me with false ideas of perfectionism.

Don’t diminish me by glossing over my less than wonderful traits: I worked hard to learn how to speak up for myself, to curse, and to embrace anger. I like my sometimes twisted humor and have no desire to be portrayed in a one dimensional, sanctified way. I don’t want to be silenced in life and I don’t want the silence of the tomb to be the end of the complex human that I will have been. I can accept that I might be entirely forgotten- I’ve done nothing that rates immortality- just don’t make me over, for however long my name conjures up a picture in anyone’s mind. Enjoy the contradictory stories and opinions: consensus is not required, I changed over my lifetime and treated various people differently. I am as I can/should be.

My mistakes are mine

My struggle remains real

It took many years for me to recognize the inherent violence in perfectionism and ideologies of “sweetness” and being “good” that are thrust most particularly upon women, but just as damagingly, on the various subaltern peoples in societies that hold fast to the notion that we are inferior and must therefore strive harder to be better. It is a dehumanizing concept that supports racism and the institutionalized oppression of the many people who are literally beaten into simplistic characterizations, whether it be the “thug” or the “model minority.” Every stereotype is a diminishment of the complexities of human lives and a deterrent to human be-ing.

So have the laughs remembering the stupid things I did (please never forget jumping from a horse at a fairly high speed or crossing streams by swinging from vines in Dominica- I did that!) or the petty, snarky (yet hopefully witty) comments. Remember the failure to sometimes be there in some way when I might have been needed; the (many) times I ditched social events in favor of solitude. Maybe I’ve helped a few people, certainly I’ve hurt some. I hope I’ve been kind more often than not: I admire gentle souls and see the immaturity in my own restless, sometimes thoughtless spirit. I abhor liars, phonies, and respectability politics, but respect good bullshit, a well told story, and politeness. I’ve been blessed to have a couple of friends who’ve loved me enough to “pull my coattails” when I’ve gotten too narrowly focused or have been just plain wrong, and I can only hope that they’ll outlive me and keep anyone inclined to whitewash my memory from spoiling the party or trading in real memories for Disneyfied bull. Don’t try to control the way others who knew me saw me: they have their stories, their own relationships. But thanks for wanting to come to my defense, I appreciate the love.

I want my life to reflect my growth, my human be-coming, and memories of me should do no less. If you were lucky enough to have had the Anjana Experience, accept no substitute!

#Popeye ain’t got nothing on me.

PS I do expect to be around for another twenty years, so please don’t get freaked out and call me or start eulogizing me now. Respect the rant for what it is!

International Women’s Day

On International Women’s Day, I saluted my mom, a good representative of all the women who struggle to raise and educate healthy children and provide them with the tools needed to deal with racism and other obstacles in life. She was one of the countless women who cook, clean, and iron; care for elders; help raise neighborhood children in need, as well as helping with their grandchildren. The neighborhood women who garden for food & beauty; pick, pickle & can what they grow for winter meals; cook from scratch, every single day; work outside the house to pay for “extras” like art supplies, swimming & piano lessons, sports gear, etc.

Women who believed that love was shown, not spoken, but sometimes spoke it just for our sakes. A woman who loved music but only shyly sang; who baked for pleasure and to express love, a true homebody, yet my mother also boldly fought for us, privately and publicly. She would fight police for our sakes but made it clear that if we ever wound up in jail, she’d only visit if we were serious political prisoners “on the level of MLK and Malcolm, honey, or else you’d better stay out of trouble!” Still, when I was involved in protests, she sent food. She worried for the occupiers on Alcatraz like they were her own children, but her eyes watered with pride that The People were standing up in that way again.

She read constantly, mostly for pleasure and to better understand how to maneuver around the systems that oppressed her and threatened her loved ones. She supported other women who struggled, taught me the history of unions and suffrage, and honored the likes of folk like Harriet Tubman,Paul Robeson, Helen Keller, Mary McLeod Bethune, Ida B. Wells, Marian Anderson, and for her, “St.” Fannie Lou Hamer. I grew up knowing the real stories of Native America, and what we were being told at school was supplemented with the stories of her people. We were taught to be respectful, but question outside authority, especially institutions. She was an introvert who cared about people and showed up for them and made herself fierce on behalf of what was right. She was also humble enough to apologize when wrong and try to step outside of her comfort zone to “walk a mile in another person’s moccasins.”

Mom was one of those millions upon millions of women who go unrecognized outside of their families: women who did not gladly suffer fools, were seldom “sweet”, but were always “good.” That legion of women who always tried to do what they thought was right for their families and the world. Women who understood at the core of their beings that we are all related.

She is the spirit of a billion women we honor today and should honor every day. We aspire to their strength and love and devotion.


Pẹlu ọlá ati ọwọ: às̩e̩

Barbuda Is Us

Please listen and then WRITE to António Guterres, UN Sec. General.

The podcast below (link at the page bottom) explains exactly how the people of Barbuda are being cheated of their land and birthrights. This is part a new colonialist assault that employs the same rule (terranullius) that was invoked to seize Indigenous Peoples’ lands and dehumanize them. (It is a pattern that is frighteningly similar to what’s being done to Puerto Rico right now.)

If unchecked, this de facto coup, on a tiny, otherwise unknown island, helps to solidify an international pattern threatening the idea of independence around the world.

Barbuda is one of the few remaining places in the world where citizens hold the land in common. Certainly the local government has been short sighted in some decisions and it is not a perfect democracy, yet the people of this island, most of whom are the descendants of enslaved Africans, have enacted enviable democratic principals that should be respected and protected.

Please listen, learn, and then take action. In this case, the United Nations (and you!) may be able to help.