* Poem I wrote at 16- Brain dead, mislead, …*<\/p>\n
*backdrop of the history of OC-Anahiem police, KKK, and never thought my place of growing up with foster so many tv shows, etc. it certainly wasn’t my experience. Mom didn’t know better by trying to make a place in suburbs. Later, I would see why when visiting LA and you told them you lived in OC they had that strange and sometimes fearful look. Of course, all of that has changed but…<\/p>\n
Needless to say, my way of acting out the garat rebel blood running through my viens was pure rebellion. I was not easy before I became conscious I believed in being good at whatever I was involved in if it was stealing, pick pocketing, etc. then I did it well. But then I also had the pressure coming in from my guides and higher self. While I was able to do the do- steal, run my game, whatever, it was at night or the early morning when I was tortured the most for my actions! I remember sitting in bed making deals with God, saying \u201cokay, just give me one more year to do xyz\u201d and I remember crying knowing I no longer could hang with this friend or go to that party, without even knowing why. I just knew. I knew I was different, I knew I had a different life path that I could explain, but just knew it. My person was hard headed, but it was my mother’s actions that tipped the scales to G.O.D’s side. My mother didn’t know how to handle me, until she used reverse psychology. Where some children, one beating would be enough, I was one that you had to reach another way. Whenever my mom went to blows (which was very often) I always figured it was her just tripping. I didn’t get to see myself as the source of her stress and worry as single woman working two jobs to support 4 children etc.. My mom must have prayed for guidance in how to handle me and what she came up with was nothing short of genius (a miracle) for a child like me:<\/p>\n
Scenario:<\/p>\n
Well, let me go home and get this ass whipping.<\/p>\n
Climbing in from the window, mom on the bed waiting for me, get up, not saying a word, next day, nothing. Cooking preparing our food, and then it finally hit me. I made total amends with myself.<\/p>\n
Although I went to the other extreme of knowing of badness, I put all my energy of doing right (explain how I could relate to Malcolm X- pimp to priest). It took a considerable time for me to consider myself a good person for all the steal and etc. that I used to do. Whenever I tell people this story they never believe me. Miss Goodie Two Shoes, Little Debbie Cakes? No. Yet, I paid my dues my being the ideal student I had one teacher in junior high tell me \u201cYou will be a disgrace to BPHS\u201d well wouldn’t you know I’d outdo them all?<\/p>\n
Knowledge Found <\/b><\/p>\n
* It must have been our garret blood, but even though lived in OC, there was a thirst for the truth, a search for identity. This knowledge came way from my older brothers one at a time.<\/p>\n
Conscious Brothers<\/b><\/p>\n
Before going to Cal State Long Beach where the founder of Kwanzaa Mulanga K taught. My brother had sent off about see about a nose job!<\/p>\n
After that he was a militant always quoting this and that although everyone in the family would say he was crazy, I was a curious young girl with good deductive reasoning skills. Whatever it was, was in the books he was reading. That opened my head early!<\/p>\n
Then my oldest brother (came to US from island senior year and ends up being valedictorian, school speech & went to UCI and was involved in xyz and he brought me to campus sometimes. That let me know it’s possible to go to school and to start organizations-<\/p>\n
* Used to steal books from BP Library and walk around with a almanac quoting all the things Blacks invented. When I showed one teacher proof that Mozart was a mulatto with a teacher that was moor, he told me that is just like saying MLK is Italian.<\/p>\n
International Black Writers Association<\/b><\/p>\n
Instead of my mom dragging me everywhere I was the one dragging her everywhere: People like Guy from South CentralSteve Barnes and Octavia Butler, I was the resident child of the group, dragging my mom everywhere!<\/p>\n
Vis IBWA found out about Ashra Kwesi as lecture and niavely I gave principle his bio and he came into my class to tell me he couldn’t speak because he went to Harvard and studied history and never heard anything like this.<\/p>\n
Later, I would stay in contact with Ashra Kwesi and he predicted that I would do something great. But is wasn’t until college did I realize the depth of the lies told in school. that would come later…<\/p>\n
Hoop Dreams<\/b><\/p>\n
* coaches help to applying for nccu,<\/p>\n
* praying for a black coach- prayers did go answered when other coach once said \u201cstop playing that jungle bunny music\u201d I knew it was time to go in prayer.<\/p>\n
* He also turned out to be my alley in getting the Black Heritage Club approved and etc..<\/p>\n
* issue between being a jock and athlete<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
* Poem I wrote at 16- Brain dead, mislead, …* *backdrop of the history of OC-Anahiem police, KKK, and never thought my place of growing up with foster so many tv shows, etc. it certainly wasn’t my experience. Mom didn’t … Continue reading