ROYAUMONT RE-ENVISIONED

The story is that the Royaumont Abbey was built between 1228 and 1235 with the support of Saint Louis (King Lousi IX of France), and occupied by Cistercian monks. It was transformed into a cotton mill in 1791 and a novicate for nuns in 1869. In the early 1900's it was acquired by the Gouin family who set it up as a cultural center, and in 1964 Henry and Isabel Gouin created the Royaumont Foundation, the first private French cultural foundation.

This is where I have resided for the past 7 days, and as I sit here in our room, among the remnants of an almost 800 year old edifice, I can't help but feel the overall spirit of a transitory cultural experiences. There were the monks who theorized and contemplated, in silent meditative states, on theological treatises and their effects on themselves and on the kings and residents of the surrounding countryside. Then there was the spirits of the owner and workers in the subsequential cotton mill, who shared residency albeit it in different areas of the cloister of trees, shrubbery, and streams that surrounded their places of residency. There also remains the spirit of the nuns and their humble attempts to restore their idea of the sanctity that was hopefully inherent in this once holy abode, and herein dwells also the aristocratic spirit of those whose seeming purpose, to maintain and display the aesthetics of a centuries old French culture, is nurtured and perpetated by the ambience of the artists, musicians, and intellectuals who come here to create, enjoy, and  then share the outcome of a time spent in this ethereal yet laborious setting of nature, architecture and conscientious creativity. Surprisingly I, as an artist, feel a real sense of belonging.

The irony of all of this is that I am but a guest of the real proponents of my reason for being here. The musicians, American and African, who descended upon this age-old architectural monument, were invited here to create a transatlantic collaboration through the venues of word and music. Three African musicians from the west African country of Mali, Babani Kone on vocals, Fassery Diabate on balafon, and musical director Ballake Sissoko on kora are present. Then there’s the Chicago based musicians of African American descent, Mankwe Ndosii on vocals, Jovia Armstrong on percussion, Felton Offard on guitar, composer Nicole Mitchell on flute, and the one Jewish American Joshua Abrams on bass who are also here.  All coming together, each world renown in their own realm, to exchange artistic ideas and collaborate on the Malian and American compositions of Ballake Sissoko and Nicole Mitchell, that they would practice 8 hours a day, for 6 days, to present to the French audience gathered for the grand performance that ensued inside the interior walls of this majestic complex known as the Royaumont abbey and foundation. What a venerable experience to be a witness to this grand display of cultural collaboration and musical magnificence.

Royaumont has probably, in its 779 plus years of existence, never experienced this coming together of three different cultures, Malian, Jewish, and African American, on stage, bringing to an unknown number of cultures in the attentive French audience, a sound and a message that says “Yes, together we can accomplish a feat of yet unheralded magnitude”, and  at the same time provide you the listener, with an incentive to do the same in your respective arenas. As members of the audience walked away singing in Bambara dialect, the passage of the last song which vocalist Babani Kone had invited and encouraged them to participate in, I knew that a precedent for cultural commonality and a spirit of cross-cultural honor and respect, had been established at this place we call Royaumont. Let’s all keep this newly established legacy movin ya’ll … inside and outside these venerated halls.

I'll holla…


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PARIS TOO?

Got an opportunity to leave the country of America again, and I'm real excited about having met and talked with Jamika Ajalon, who left St. Louis, Missouri years ago and moved to Chicago, to New York, across the ocean to London, and has now resided right here in Paris, France for the past 7 years.   My wife Nicole has known Jamika for many years, and although she and I have visited here over four times together, this was my first time meeting her friend Jamika face to face. My excitement stems from the fact that I finally got a chance to talk with someone, who lives in a foreign country, speaks my language and shares a common African-American experience.

Those of you who have followed my blogs may remember my writing about my first visit here and how I was taken aback yet not surprised at the fact that racial prejudice existed here as it does in America, as did the disdain that some African people here displayed toward this African American. There was no one here, at the time, that I could speak with who I felt could really understand my sensibilities, because in order to really understand another person's feelings, you had to have experienced them. Jamika provided me with that opportunity, and it was disheartening to hear yet somewhat fulfilling to recognize that my intuitive sense of racism, and its inherent ramifications, were echoed by her experience both here and in our common American homeland.

As the three of us, my wife, Jamika and myself reminisced and shared our experiences, the issue of race was dismissed yet not negated. We recalled how our individual experiences have prepared us for our common objective, that being to promote understanding, among diverse cultures, through words, the arts and music. We all feel that it is unwarranted ignorance that hinders love and understanding of others, and that sharing and unconditionally accepting our collective experiences, can and will bring about a change. That is not to say that we are looking to travel the world 'teaching' others how to think, but it does infer that our time will be dedicated to creating venues and providing opportunities for those who are willing to learn. Not just the three of us, but all of us are one, and being honest with that part of us we call 'self', being open minded while interacting with the so-called 'others', and being willing to change if need be is where we must go from here if life is to be aligned with the reason for our being created i.e. to equitably share our existence.

Man, what an ironic opportunity to know that racial disparity exists in other places and that, at the same time, people everywhere are seeking to expel its existence. Jamika promised that on our next visit she would introduce us to some of her Caucasian friends, who reside here in Paris and who also share our vision. Nicole, as we speak, is collaborating with musicians of the African persuasion who reside  here in Paris and in Africa as well, and we are all envisioning an all around friendship and looking forward to our traveling down a common pathway toward equity and freedom.

To all who are hearing, not listening but hearing, I implore you to make peace with yourself. Dispose of any and all presuppositions and false information that hinder you from knowing the truth about yourself and others. It's still a wonderful world out there, in spite of the problems that seem to incessantly crop up. Let's alter our attitude and see these problems as opportunities rather than difficulties, and do whatever we can, no matter how big or small it may seem, to make the best of these limitless and opportune circumstances. Why? Cause we can!!

I'll holla


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IS THEIR WATER REALLY WETTER?

I’m not at all comfortable with what I did this past Friday, yet totally understand the dynamics and anticipated ramifications inherent in my doing it. There was a church groundbreaking ceremony that I attended on that Friday morning, and it was held in the Grand Crossing neighborhood of Chicago. The event was ironically two blocks away from a drug and alcohol recovery house, located at 7730 S, Greenwood, that I co-owned and operated, from 1993 to 2000, and during that time Grand Crossing was an almost 100% Black neighborhood. Although gentrification of this particular area was not yet in full swing, there was a spattering of Caucasion residents here and there. What does all of this have to do with my discomfort? Well because of my awareness of the rampant drug traffiking and subsequent criminal activity that had taken place during that prescribed time, I was hesitant to park the rental car just anywhere. However, when I saw this white guy and his cat peering out of a window in the apartment across the street from this vacant parking space I had considered, I felt somewhat assured that I would be picking a safe location.

Some of you might feel that it was a valid decision I had made in parking where I did, and evidently I felt that way as well. However, I still feel that my decision only serves to point out how I am still somehow connected to an old adage common only to those of us of who years ago, from slavery to the civil rights movement, were a part of what was called the Negro persuasion. You see back then, we seemed to believe that…’The white man’s ice was colder and his water wetter.’ The irony of all of this is that still today there’s a great degree of validity in our way of thinking. Regardless of how we might try to cover it up, despite how folks of all races point to the so called progress and great strides that have taken place in race relations, and even though there’s a Black family in the white house, racial disparity still exists and we still find ourselves adjusting our actions to protect the limited semblances of liberty we do have. In essence, being on the ‘white side’ still seems to be the right side.

Why do I see things this way you ask? Well, from 2007 until 2010, I lived in a condo on 68th and Clyde, in the South Shore area of Chicago, and gentrification was quite obvious as demonstrated by the intense migration of white folks to an heretofore predominately black neighborhood. I’m not aware of the current situation, but during the summer of each of those three years, I was an eyewitness to the police paddy wagons that scoured the area every weekend, picking up blue jean and white tee shirt clad young black men, five to ten at a time, and loading them for transport to a criminal holding facility. Racial profiling was indeed the order of the day, and even though the city officials would have us believe that their intent was to rid the area of gangbangers, my take on what their true objective was and still is… is to make the area suitable and safe for white folks. You see, contrary to popular belief, wearing a certain attire is not proof of gang affiliation and/or involvement in criminal activity.

Let’s fast forward to this past Saturday night in the Hyde Park neighborhood, where security guards stood on just about every corner in the vicinity of the University of Chicago campus which spans over 100 square blocks. I envisioned this as I drove to a jazz concert taking place at 1414 East 59th street, and my findings were confirmed by both residents and students. The story is that there have been increased incidents of student assaults, and the need for better security was deemed mandatory. But come on, all the guards were black, the alleged perpetrators I’m sure were assumed to be black, but the University of Chicago is in the center of what used to be a largely black area and most of the black folks have been phased out of the inner city. The student demographics comprise 50% white, 20% Asian and 5% black and precludes that race has some bearing on this situation, and the fact that the average enrollment cost is over $60,000 a year further limits the chance that black folks will be moving back in and/or sending their children to this prestigious university. What’s really going on?

I actually used to think that white folks were smarter than black folk, and although I didn’t believe their water was wetter, I knew they had access to more stuff than those of us of a different persuasion. Today I’m well aware that both overt and covert racism still exists, and yet my aforementioned discomfort stems from having, at times, to make decisions along racial lines. It’s just not fair that black people, in every area I mentioned, were not the targeted recipients of the quality of living afforded to others. It’s also a shame that we are driven from our homes in areas that were once rife with crime and  decay, yet when we come back we look for the area where the residuals of the gentrification that moved us away is most prevalent. Where do we feel most safe… where the white folks are.

What we gon do ya’ll? Well we have to first look at ourselves, accept that things are not as they should be, and then perpetually ask ourselves "What can I do today to make it better?" I’m not just talking to black folk, I’m talking to all folks, cause if we don’t bust a move, it’s just a matter of time before somebody’s water is wetter because they’ll literally own all of it and everything else. And believe me, it won’t be because they’re white, it’ll be because we allowed it.

I’ll holla


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BECAUSE I CAN

Discomfort and pain are true motivators, but the real dilemma comes in making a decision on what to do about them. Some of us us try to resolve the issue by taking matters into our own hands, some of us seek professional help, and some of us, to the chagrin of others, just give up.

I've submitted to both taking matters into my own hands, and seeking professional help in dealing with the discomforting/painful issues that have come my way, because giving up is just not in my make-up. Self help programs, personal research, talking with like minded people, and having sessions with psychological, medical, metaphysical, alternative and  spiritual healing professionals have all played a major role in my recovery from my problematic 'stuff', and the 'Grace Of God' has always made a 'way out of no way' for resolving my predicament.

My mother taught aerobic classes starting at the age of fifty, and retired from that particular vocation, a few years ago, at the age of seventy nine. She has since been confronted with recurrent physical
pain and just last week decided to join a health club to help alleviate and control these bouts of discomfort. I talked to my 96 year old friend and my mother's former student Bea Lumpkin a few weeks ago, and she said that you have to fight the pain and therefore she works out at the YMCA four days a week. These two inspirational beings have reminded and convinced me that when it comes to alleviating physical pain I have options, and that giving up is not one of them.

There's also a mental and spiritual quandary of pain, and in my capacity as Spiritual Counselor, I've suggested to others to not focus on the physical manifestations of their discomfort. The fact that their troubled marrriage/relationship is keeping them up at night, or that their children's behavior is driving them to drink, or that they're seriously thinking about either quitting their job or doing something noxious to their boss,  are all corporal indications that there's a real problem stemming from within. Looking inside, and seeing what you can do to help yourself cope with whatever problem is challenging your well being is the solution I recommend. After all, everybody and everything causing us discomfort and pain is just doing what they do. You ask why do they do it. The answer is simple...because they can.

The entire universe is unfolding exactly as it should. Everything that happens to us happens because it can, and the remedy to dealing with whatever happens is understanding that there's a BLESSING in it somewhere, and that when discomfort occurs we just need to look past the pain and make a decision on how to go about obtaining the gift that awaits us beyond that realm. After al,l we all need motivation from time to time, and again, pain and discomfort have a way of bringing to our attention that right now, in the words of Bernie Mack, we need to 'bust a move'.

I, for the most part, do not even entertain the option of giving up but I do understand that at some point in all our lives we will inevitably make that decision. Nonetheless, those of us who choose to make that decision early on have that right, and those of us who choose to stay in the struggle have that right as well. One thing we must all understand though, is that whatever choice we make it's not always because we want to, it's not necessarily because we have to, but it's undoubtedly because we can. So I have a current mantra, that I'd like to suggest to you for coping with and alleviating pain and discomfort, and here it is..."I will overcome this situation...because, by the Grace Of God, I can..."

I'll holla...

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