Our Mother's didn't have Facebook...

Staying in touch these days can be a little overwhelming - everyone is there - all the time - tweeting and updating and while we know now that cyber breaks are necessary, it is sometimes sad to think about what has happened.

I hate change - it's a bad trait.... The worst... I fear it and yet think about it constantly. Facebook is full of change- it can even document it for you and one can get lost in the change we see from people who were in our elementary school, high school or university.

Divorce is an ugly word for some and maybe a release for others. Having not had that experience, I write as an observer to how public our life's have become and the need to explain everything via social media. I love social media, I really do - I operate multiple channels across various platforms and I delight in mentions, re-tweets, Likes and tags. But, I have also kept life-altering news from being the main headline of my feeds. I'm married, but you will see no wedding photos, I have a daughter, and probably post the least out of most people I know with a child / children, and I like it that way.

There has been a lot of talk about Facebook and Divorce, with Facebook as the cause, but what happens when you document these life events and the unexpected happens. Is there a "divorced" relationship status? It is such a personal thing - like the ending of a relationship on Facebook where you have to then remove the photos of you and your now-ex that were plastered across your wall.

We had a conversation over the holidays about people who had passed away, and how their Facebook pages became shrines/ memorials. It is definitely comforting to some, maybe is who have experienced the loss and uneasy for others.

It looks as though Facebook is here to stay, and our lives are forever changed - many would say for the better.

But how much is too much...

Remembering Sarah Baartman and the Rented Negro

On June 6th, 3 Black women stood in New York's Union Square holding signs that read," You can touch my hair." The photos were posted across social media and debated in the days to follow. (#youcantouchmyhair)
In 1810, Sarah Baartman stood on display while her buttocks and other parts of her barely covered body, were examined in a sideshow. Europeans flocked to marvel at her exhibition, pointing and staring at her exotic parts.
Sarah Baartman had little to no choice and was persuaded to make a "living" being on display until her death in 1816. She was posthumously on display and dissected in France until her remains were finally sent back to South Africa in 2002.
While it is clear from the articles and discussions in the past week that "Un-ruly's" exhibition was meant as a social experiment and as a way of examining the "tactile fascination", as they described it, with black hair - I was still (as many black women were and are), a little bit...disturbed.
Upon seeing the discussion on twitter and then viewing the photos on Instagram, I immediately thought of Sarah Baartman.
Black. Woman. On Display.
Voluntary or involuntary, they were being examined, just as Sarah was. They were being looked at and rented, as Damali Ayo might have put it.

You see, the other place my mind went after learning about this "phenomenon" was the bottom of a dresser drawer, where lay a t-shirt that read, "touch your own hair".

Pretty simple.
I bought this particular shirt during my Afro days, my "say it loud, I'm Black and I'm proud" days when I needed everyone to know how Black I was. I purchased it from "rent-a-negro.com", Damali Ayo's web-art-performance that allowed people to apply for rental Negroes. The site is now "out of business", but the shirts are still available, as well as the book version of the site.
In another time (pre-motherhood), I might have stood alongside the women with my t-shirt juxtaposing their signs and behavior.
The best I could do as a response was to post a photo of the shirt.
Looking beyond race, how age appropriate is it for adults to run around touching each others hair. You don't see 9-5 professionals groping each other at the office, in fact, there are rules against that.
My response to un-ruly might not be congratulatory, but I'm not furious at their exhibition. It did what I believe it was supposed to do. Spark Discussion. Most people might be shy to openly discuss Black hair when asked, so if an exhibit is in a public space and everyone else seems to be doing it. It must be ok...right?
In a time where Kim Khardashian's baby is at the top of our lists, it was at least refreshing to see a more intellectual debate trying to surface for longer than a week.
Black people throughout the Diaspora are no longer for sale or rent. These days of putting ourselves on display should be coming to an end. I believe discussions of race in this country need to continue and maybe factor in other things, like economic status.
I believe the few non-Blacks that showed interest in touching Black hair were genuinely curious, but ...curiosity killed the cat, and if you want to touch my hair, like I said - become a hair stylist.

The Artist-Parent-Parent-Artist Balance...

With Mother's Day approaching - I thought it fitting to re-post this blog or "re-blog" this post from March. Motherhood has certainly taught me a lot and I have no doubt that this is a post I will constantly mentally "re-something" every couple months as a sort of reminder.

Malfunctioning Hardware

There's nothing like a computer problem to put it all into perspective.

For nearly the last month and a half, I have been working really hard on my boutique photography business (Shameless plug... GarBaby's Photos). I had some sessions over the weekend that really excited me and with the party I shot a few weeks ago - I was eager to finally post photos and share some sneak peaks. Everything finally felt like it was going to move forward in a very positive and successful manner.


Until...

I took a break.

I had a great photo to post for Earth Day, but when you spend your days and nights with Adobe Bridge, Photoshop and Aperture... isn't a break allowed...

I left my desk and did some other non-photo / computer related things.

I came back to my computer to post the Earth Day photo and saw a message that the Time Machine Back-up Failed. I found this odd and then saw a yellow exclamation point on one of the photos I was going to edit. Odd. I noticed that the hard drive was that awful translucent blue/grey and then the dreaded message The disk you entered was not readable by this computer. So direct - so cold. I mean... what kind of a message is that. Seriously....

My husband, the professional IT man was equally as direct. It's dead.

But no... that's impossible, I thought. Because I - the non-IT-artistic-magical person want to tap my magic wand and have everything back - working again - in minutes...

There are a list of technical terms and jargon that no go with repairing hard drives: sectors, blocks, bad blocks, format... I could go on, but the words are too dry for me... So technical - not creative - MEAN!

I've dealt with hard drive issues before - in particular this hard drive... so I should have known. I had stopped using it once before... but now - I dumped everything on there. literally. The photos from this past weekend's shoot that I was so excited about were on there in organized in folders for my editing delight. Talk about feeling hopeless... When all you want is to transform .ARW and .NEF raw images and you can't - it's an incredibly hopeless feeling. No one can do anything quickly and you have to wait... Patience is a virtue indeed, but when it's your business and the only employee is you... this is potential panic mode.

After a melancholy dinner, I retreated back to my office in silence to plug, unplug and listen to the sounds of potential death that were emitting from my not-so-darling hard drive. How tragic this was - but why wasn't I crying... I was sad, yes - but always hopeful...

Soon thereafter, my magical IT husband presented me with recovery software! HOPE! I smiled a larger than life smile as I downloaded it onto my computer. I read what I needed to read, all the while dreaming of my photos from upload sessions past.

The most frustrating part of this whole thing is that just when I felt like things were going to stabalize with this business and just when I felt like I had a flow going... a system in place... it imploded! It flashed a yellow alert and was over. Just like that.

The scan didn't work. It was plugged in for nearly two days and no file was recovered. In fact, all I got was a message that MR. IT read to me this morning. It's dead...like I said the other day.

Each night I dreamed that one file would appear— hope... but nothing appeared. My husband was obviously not nearly as hopeful.

There's something about IT professionals. So factual. So matter-of-fact. Where's the emotion... where's the love...

While I was crying the tears of my soul last night over my lost photos and "failed" business, MR. IT was likely thinking of solutions... Thank Goodness for him!

The light at the other end of the tunnel was scanning my SD cards... where the photos came from in the first place... at least the ones from 2013. I had no idea how much was going to be recovered, but gave it a try!

2 disks and 2 recovery programs later, my weekend session photos are recovered.

I found a place in the city to take my "dead drive". The commercial looks promising...

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zxSvrBUPho8]

It makes me dream of the day when my lovely data is back on the sectors of another device that I will triple back-up!

For now, I will edit away and pray that recovery is possible and that the quote isn't too high.

To Be Continued...

 

RE: Charles Isherwood and the Sputtering Starlet (NyTimes Artsbeat - Theater Talkback)

The craft of acting is to be taken seriously for those who can only dream of one thorough role a year, or every couple years - it is the difference, for example, between the original Millennium Series in Swedish and the Hollywood re-make.

It is talent and stamina. Mind and body - putting one's energy into an exhausting role for that one "take" versus putting yourself into that one role over and over for weeks and months (even years) on end.

A "starlet" on Broadway is like reality television - except we don't often spend an ungodly amount to watch those train wrecks.

Imagine for a (very) brief, unrealistic moment that Kim Khardashian decided to call herself an actor and found herself thrust upon a stage to do whatever it is that she does. Ticket sales would likely be through the roof if not sold out - but for how long before she and the audience wanted out.  I don't mean to diminish the actual work of Hollywood actors who have attempted to make a way for themselves among the greats of Broadway, but it might seem as ill a match as the above mentioned Ms.(...er Mrs... er...) Khardashian on the stage.

Hollywood doesn't fit well in a place as honest as New York - where you can see imperfection on the stage - we like flaws here.  New York also likes perfection... over and over again, something you only have to do in Hollywood once.

Elaine Stritch said it well on her "retirement", “I’m just sick of the competition in New York, the feeling that I always have to rehearse to keep up my performance. [...]" (Patrick Healey).

The starlets who flock here are maybe looking for a notch in their belt. The runs are usually limited because neither their stamina nor their persona could handle it for more than a few weeks. That "perfection" that Ms. Stritch spoke of achieving and being expected to achieve on a more than regular basis.

Unfortunately, Broadway is often about making money - New Yorker's know that.  While it may often be the tourists' playground, as the box offices from many of the shows Isherwood mentioned demonstrated, even they tire of the letdown of seeing their favorite movie heroine up close and personal in a play they only came to see because he or she was in it.

I think casting Starlets or Hollywood actors is common because of the money the theatre community hopes to make. Plays are only so popular these days when everyone's attention span is less than a macro-second.  The theatre is not what it was and stars bring a boost.   If we see a boost in "big names", it might signal that the "money people" are looking to make a few more dollars or are low in the first place.  Either way, it's a money problem.
On the other hand, what Isherwood (and many of the comments) have shown is that this boost is only temporary because no one is really fooled and the shows close (even before originally being scheduled to end).

So Hollywood - Back to The Hill and "The Method" you go!

_________________________

In Response to Theater Talkback: The Season of the Sputtering Starlet ~Charles Isherwood~ NYTimes Theatre Arts Beat - March 21, 2013

The American Navel

I can't believe it's been over a week since I've posted!

The past few weeks I have been hard at work on my photography business and website! It has certainly "taken over", in addition to my other familial duties...PLUS we've all been ill.  With that said, I have been writing this blog post for over a week in between figuring out my packaging and pricing and all the exciting things I will be offering my photography clients!

So the week before last, while I was figuring out how I will conduct my business, I looked at many photography websites, especially those catering to newborns, babies and young children.

When it came to my bio, I debated whether or not to include a photograph of myself. When I looked around, I found only a handful of photographers without photos of themselves and thought I might as well, even though my initial inclination was not to display one on the site. I felt that I was advertising my work as a photographer - did it really matter what I looked like....?

When I showed the site to my husband, his first comment was, "I don't think you need your photo"...

I stopped.... annoyed (not at him), that it ALWAYS seemed that when I thought something and did the opposite, maybe I should have done what I was initially going to do. I went on to explain to him that almost all the photography websites I checked out included photos of the photographers and added that it did make sense to me, that a parent would want to see who was photographing their children.... Wouldn't I??

Maybe a note about my husband would be helpful... He grew up in France, and is for the most part, French... Culturally European (and West African... But the focus here is the European). He then made a comment about Americans...always thinking about their own navel....as if they are the center of their own Universe.... Now.. he's not the only one who said this - I showed the site to a neighbor of mine - also European and she also asked about my photo.  I chuckled!  Now I'm really  beginning to think it's a crazy American thing... (side note: I am in no way bashing Americans - I am only pointing out and interested in discussing cultural differences...)

So after some thought I went with my gut... and took my photo down... for now... until I have one that I'm happier with..

But what they were saying complimented each other - my husband was talking about his noticing this culture where we don't debate topics that stray far from ourselves.  Instead of talking about "Malcolm" (his example), we focus on our lives...  I mean... could my blog be in that category... probably...uh yes... even though I try hard not to..

My neighbor's comment was particularly concerning if one thought what the had to say was so interesting that we had to share with other people.

Now, I know many people NOT on Facebook and many not concerned with letting others know about their daily ins and outs in what others think, but I don't know if it's a purely American thing... It could be an artist thing...  I mean when you work for yourself and write or act or dance or promote yourself, it's hard to stray from that because YOU are your "brand" - YOU are your own bread.  It could also be a product of our society... "iPhone" "mobile ME".... "iPod" "iPad"... our everyday products focus on ourselves...

There's a fine line between just enough me and too much me... but it can be annoying or frustrating maybe to meet people who are constantly thinking about me, myself and I.  We require so much attention these days.  What would be do if we shut off the twitter and Facebook... it seems so rare to have a telephone conversation these days... so much is done by text and I'm not excluding myself (although I'm working hard NOT to make this about me).

I would really like to hear what people think... Are you a perpetrator of constant navel-gazing?... be honest... OR do you avoid it like the plague and attempt to participate in discussions about things other than yourself?

 

The Artist-Parent-Parent-Artist Balance...

In a January blog for The Public Theatre, J.Julian Christopher touched on his experience as an artist making ends meet through freelance work and then balancing his creative life once attaining a position in Academia (a wish for many artists not wanting a "9 to 5").

He wrote about his regimen for maintaining that "work-creative life" balance that so many artists struggle with. At the end of his post, he stated that a relationship would only make that more difficult... I chuckled when I read that as it rang more than true! (especially as I sit here in the dark finishing this blog on my phone).

Where does your creativity come in when one's life is both parent and artist.... wait ... did I just say that? Being a parent is one of the most creative things to happen to a person - if you are already an artist, it only adds to your creativity...in my opinion. BUT - Where does one find TIME to be creative as a parent balancing "life" when your livelihood cannot always be determined by your art.

The Washington Post published an article last week about work-life balance for single people - and feeling guilty for having to find pet care vs. childcare, for example.  Balance affects everyone. It's real.

Personally, I often feel like my mind is going to explode from thinking before being able to accomplish anything (Procrastination / Over-thought). I lie awake lost in the minutia of motherhood and wife-dom, writing bits of dialogue / monologues on my iPhone. I am habitually nocturnal (... perhaps genes have something to do with it as well) and struggle between going to bed and getting up early or staying up late... (and still getting up early-ish).

Long gone are the days of wallowing in one's own problems before others...my own little family puts things in perspective. When someone is tugging at your trousers /skirt while your cooking, it's hard to think about the lunch date I should make with friends.

My husband's more structured IT background has led him to marvel at the often inconsistent manner in which I behave. There are days I know exactly what to do first and other days ... Not so much. Being a mother and wife is my first priority and it only helps my creativity, but knowing where creativity comes in is the challenge.

I tend to do some of my best thinking in the middle of the night!  I have wild dreams of red carpets and magazine articles (I can't even believe I'm telling you this).  I've finished multiple plays and am writing in Paris (I would elaborate on Paris - but that is an entirely different blog post / novel... but let's just say... no... I can't... LATER).  By now, you've probably come to the conclusion that I'm either scattered, unorganized, or just plain ol'messy.  I would venture to say that I'm a little scattered - but that it aids in my creativity...


Getting back on track and away from my tangent...

• I work in the middle of the night because everyone is asleep.  The house is silent and I can focus.


• The iPhone has some great apps that I purchased early on because I knew in the beginning I wouldn't be able to sit at my computer a lot (especially while nursing).  I use "Write2" and things upload to my dropbox, so it make is very easy.  I also have, for example, the wordpress app for my blogs (yes - I have two others...).


• I do the shopping I can on-line... Soap.com / Diapers.com have apps that are more than helpful and they ship the next day.

With that said, I would definitely recommend using the technology around you to aid in your creative / parent life.  I know there are more apps out there and if I discover them, I will share!

So has any of this helped me...yes, a little...  I produce with a group - Harlem9 - we have an annual 48 Hour Play festival in Harlem, I still run my reading series for Black Playwrights "Blackboard Reading Series" at the cell, where I worked before having my daughter and am now still involved through the series and as a resident artist...., I had a short play in a play festival in November "The Decision Fest" and was part of an online film festival encouraging people to vote (and I won one of the prizes).

ok... so maybe I'm being a little hard on myself... but since I have this image of where I want to be and where I am, I still work hard on the balance.  I can't JUST write or work all day... there's a baby to take care of, a husband, a house... I'm balancing, I am... the artist in me wants to sit, do yoga and write; the mother in me want to go to every mom and me-class available; the wife in me, wants to make the best french cuisine possible in a dress, apron and full make-up...  they're all extremes... so the thing about balance is doing a little bit of each extreme in order to fulfill those parts of one's life.

And then one day, you're kids will have all grown up and you'll have this other life to figure out...  :)

But I can't even think about that now!

The Stuttering Photographer and Elizabeth Halford

Starting a business is hard. You have to think about the ins and outs of how it will function.  In the beginning it's just you - so there is much more to think about and you write lists and there's advertising and marketing to think about.  Maybe even investors!  THEN - if you're a SAHM, you have to figure  out your business plus your family life!

It's enough to drive a person mad!

All this before you've even thought about how you're going to actually approach people, because let's face it - it's so much easier to just sit behind a screen and type / edit away (I mean I am a playwright) - but there is something about person-to-person interactions... (they're rare in this day and age).

With that said, I was really happy when I came across Elizabeth Halford, an American photographer living in Great Britain.  Her blog has been quite helpful as I think and create the intricacies of my new baby photography business (Like us on Facebook / GarBaby's Photos - Shameless plug...).  Elizabeth has ptosis and does "Vlogs" on YouTube.  After "Vlogging" for a while, she received a lot of questions about her left eye (video below).

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DG0wgHXubFE]

After watching Elizabeth's video, I mentioned her in a tweet!  I understood absolutely everything that she was saying!

You see - I stutter - I have since I was 5 and well, it's just a part of my everyday life.  Living as a person who stutters has had an absolute effect on the way I think about things and interact with people.  It is so innate, that some of my behaviors might seem unorthodox to others, even though they make complete sense to me.

Here are a few examples:

• I rarely introduce myself and if I am in a groups of people, I will wait for someone else to say my name.
  
  
  
  • This may give the impression that I view myself in such high regard that I need to be introduced, and while I do have pretty good self-esteem, I certainly do not think I am above telling another person my own name, I'd just rather not take 25 minutes to do it.
  
  
  
  


• I switch words in the middle of sentence if necessary.
  
  
  
  • If I can think of something that is easier to say, I'll say it.  For example, I prefer "spectacles" over "glasses" - the Glottal "g" is not one of my better sounds (and with a name like "G"arlia - you wonder why I don't introduce myself often...).
  
  
  
  


• I prefer not to argue.
  
  
  
  • Any sort of confrontation is hard and I avoid it like the plague ... WHY?  Because arguments are quick and people say things sharply that sting... but I normally come out of them more frustrated because I never actually said what I wanted because maybe I word-switched or just gave up.  The more stress / Frustration, the more I stutter... the more anyone who stutters will stutter.
    
    
    
    • I have witnessed James Earl Jones not argue... and he stutters.. that is his way to keep everything under control...
    
    
    
    
  
  
  
  

If you watched Elizabeth's video - she talked about not letting your "thing" (ptosis, impediment, etc...) stop you from sharing your gifts with the world.  She spoke about how God made you who you are and that is a wonderful gift to share with the world.

Her words meant a lot to me.  And while I have never let my speech get in the way of doing what I need to do, maybe it was a boost for me.  It certainly is a wonderful message that I thought was important to share.

Harlem WHA!... 21st Century Blackface

All this talk of Yahoo and Mommy-life, I completely missed the "Harlem Shake" business over the last few weeks.

I actually ignored a suggestion from YouTube that I watch a Harlem Shake Video... It looked pretty silly to me.

But after running across a Melissa Harris-Perry link, I checked it out...

(beat)

Seriously...

(clearing throat)

My guess is that I'm not supposed to be offended by this and that it's all in "good fun"... right?

Shouldn't I just lighten up?

That's what one side of my brain is telling me - while the other side is ... appalled - offended - maybe even horrified.

I'm apologizing for being on a soap-box (Catholic Guilt again....), I don't want to be the person who rants all the time.... on the other hand, this "Harlem Shake" business looks absolutely ridiculous.
I'm just going to pretend that the Producers of the "Today Show" and every other news channel and show that spent airtime promoting this nonsensical display of 21st Century Blackface were the ones who forced their anchors to behave in such a manner.

To the college students on the airplane that made it on ABC news... I might have to just brush it off as college student behavior...

But to watch professional adults shake their bodies in a manner that seems to be mocking the real dancers of Harlem / Urban areas, I just can't watch. It's too much...

Looks like Blackface to me...



Even if there are white dancers in Harlem doing this dance, they surely embody it's spirit, whereas the non-urban and predominantly white versions (except for the Miami Heat version YouTube promoted) seemed like jerky versions of the original. It was awkward and as bad as when I let people call me an OREO...

I can't dignify this with more space on my blog... time to go read a board-book!

Dear Ms. YAHOO, Can I get a Nursery too?

I have spent the last year transitioning from Working woman to SAHM and fluctuating between that and a WAHM.

As I work towards my desired occupation as writer, I have searched for positions eager to have the flexibility to work from home and spend time with my daughter and husband. I know they exist and I know many women who choose to have a job with such flexibility.

So with that said, I was struck by Marissa Mayer's decision earlier this week - it may not be big news to everyone with more important things happening in Rome and at the White House even, but it directly affects women like me, looking to be at home and even at work, simultaneously.

I would like to take this discussion a step further however, because I don't completely disagree with Ms. Mayer - she should actually be commended for wanting to spend time with her baby instead of only having a nanny for her son. She had the means to build a nursery next to her office - so more power to her! Television Writer and Producer, Shonda Rhimes (Grey's Anatomy, Private Practice, SCANDAL) has rooms for both of her daughters at her offices and also had the means to bring them to work with her. But no one is chastising her... (Is it because Ms. Rhimes is an writer, which is considered a more artistic occupation and Ms. Mayer is a business woman and we love to hate business women... )

Wouldn't we all (if it is our desire), like to bring our babies to work with us so that we can continue to make money alongside our spouse (if we are are a two-parent household), so that our households have two incomes instead of one, so that we can begin saving for the costly pre-K, Kindergarten, elementary school, high school and / or college tuitions we will have to pay in the coming years... Wouldn't we all like to raise our children under our own watchful eyes, and have them see us at work, so that they see from a young age, the value of working everyday in your chosen occupation.

It seems that parents these days are making decisions under much scrutiny, but there is so much we have to think about. With things like Newton, Conneticut happening at what seems a daily rate, might some of us be filled with a daily paranoia... On the other hand, these choices are just part of being parents. They are not always easy, but we make them out of what we feel is in the best interest of our child / children... and someone - somewhere will likely disagree or have something to say.

As usual, I digress... So my only "complaint" of Ms. YAHOO is that other mother's in her situation (with young children / babies) will now have to go through the sometimes lengthy process of securing a nanny / governess / caretaker for their children instead of working from home like they have been. If YAHOO were in New York, these parents would have to account for the $8 Monthly MetroCard fare hike to $112 that goes into effect tomorrow (Sunday, March 3, 2013); gasoline is still sky high (remember when we freaked that it hit $1.00), and now our federal budget is being cut...

Since other women at YAHOO are most likely not in the financial position to build a nursery adjacent to their cubicle, is there a solution for them? It has not been publicized yet - so my only hope is that YAHOO is still discussing how this affects the 1-2% of employees who worked from home. Maybe there could be a proposal for daycare, so other women could bring their children to work and have them at least in the same building. Lauren Ashburn of The Daily Beast said on Hardball with Chris Matthews that she would quit if she were one of those women at YAHOO. My husband said it was a personal decision since she used her own money to build the nursery, and we should stay out of her business.

But for someone as public as she is, personal decisions are not so personal...especially when they are "out of the ordinary".

Like I said, I love that Marissa Mayer is empowered enough to have a nursery built next to her office and if I had the means and the good fortune to have a television show, I am sure my children would know my office as well as home.

Because I notoriously play both sides. (I can't help it. I don't want to really hurt anyone's feelings... Catholic Guilt?) , I wonder what Ms. YAHOO is thinking (aside from trying to get her company back on its feet).  Where is she is in all of this?  Is she even listening?   

If she is...

...Can I get a nursery too?...

1 year... 3 lines

Last year, I subscribed to Baby Center's updates and allowed their app to send weekly notices of my child's progress.

While I find the app pretty thorough, I normally ignore it - not that it doesn't have valuable information... I just don't always have the time to read it, but I do like having it.

But I digress — the message below popped up on my phone on my daughter's birthday...





If only this last year could actually be summed up in 3 lines.

But I can try...
"Congratulations! You've just made it through one of the most exhausting years of your life - only 17 more to go!"

Or

"Congratulations! Your Life as you know it is Over!"

OR

"Congratulations! You'll never go to the bathroom alone again!"

OR

"Congratulations! Privacy is a thing of the past!"

... You get the picture!

But in all seriousness - nothing beats this first year- watching someone literally grow before your eyes is such an amazing gift that I am more than honored to experience!

I wouldn't trade it for anything!

What a difference a year makes...

A year ago, the thought of going to the grocery store or even out of our apartment with a baby strapped to me was frightening. I had more than a few questions about when, where, how and what if...Without bothering my husband too much while at work, I figured it out.

One of the first times I ventured out, our daughter was maybe two weeks old. I have always taken my time with things... My mother thinks there was some delay when I was born (she had an emergency C-section because I was headed back up the birth canal and lost some oxygen). I don't know if I think that's why I'm slow.... But that's what she says.
All this tangential information to say, that I normally take my time with most things - a lot of things.... But since having a baby... Well, I can't spend hours lolygaging at Whole Foods. The time between her next feeding and whether I was going to give her a bottle there or at home in those early days, was precious. I had to learn to move at a decent pace on my own. (I am happy to report that this particularly stubborn way of life that both I and my husband possess has passed on to our daughter)... Aren't we lucky!

This past week has been filled with many reminiscent thoughts on where I was last year at this time.

Last Feb 21st I spent hours at the hospital bring monitored because I was very far along with tiny contractions. I was somewhat eager to find out what these contractions were all about. It seemed that I was having them but not nearly as strong as I needed.

When we went upstairs to labor and delivery, the doctor said she wanted to induce me that night - she was pretty insistent, but I wasn't hearing it - my bag was home, my husband at work and I was with my mother and sister-friend.

To be continued...

Thank You, Toy Story!

Along with Motherhood comes the toys and gadgets of your children. One of my daughter's books really put things in perspective for me...

"TOY STORY SING-ALONG"

Make new friends,
But keep the old.

One is silver
And the other is gold.

A circle's round,
It has no end.

That's how long
I want to be your friend.




So Thank You, Disney for putting it all into perspective! It doesn't get any easier than this.

Just As Black

I'm a playwright - 6 years ago I would have called myself a director...and maybe a poet...

In fact, this blog could stand as an ode to Black History Month, but to me it is more about identity.

"Discovering" my blackness in a world that was predominantly white took time, but ultimately the self-acceptance proved positive.

Identity was and still is a large part of my life. Besides  always being able to identify as a woman (daughter, sister...), I could also identify as a person who stutters and now wife and mother.

The poem below is part of "The Day I Found Out I was Black" - It's the first poem in fact...

Keep in mind it was written at a time of growth... growing into my identity and dealing with issues I had encountered in the past.

Identity is an evolution.

Nonetheless, I know there are other young Black men and women who are still dealing with similar issues so this is for them...

Come to think of it, adults may face this "Just as Black" ideal at work... maybe you don't quite fit into the mold of what your co-workers consider black... or asian... or whatever your ethnicity.  We have all carved out our own identities these days - expanding upon what our "race" is "supposed to be".

Let me repeat Identity is an evolution.

During Oprah's interview with Shonda Rhimes, Kerry Washington and "the real Olivia Pope", Judy Smith, I believe it was Kerry Washington who spoke about her character, Olivia Pope, sort of transcending race.  Yes - we see her as a successful Black woman, but she is also a successful woman.  She is good at what she does and it is nice to see her race not always be a major part of that.  Something Ms. Rhimes does well in all of her television shows, I might add.

So for all of you breaking down barriers and not defining yourself by your race... this is for you...

____________________

Brownface - AAPAC and The Roundabout Theatre Company

I received an email this morning with the letter below and find it appropriate to discuss / post here.

I do not agree with Blackface and certainly do not agree with"Brownface" to depict Asian Americans. It seems that with the diverse acting pool in the city, The Roundabout would have found a way to use it.

As a playwright, I can respect the way a play is written and understand staying true to the script, however, we are no longer in the 19th century — people of color have more than a great deal of rights (we are all equal), so why do the play at all??

It could be a matter of personal taste and most likely a matter of subscribers.... this is the type of play they will attend, this is the type of play that puts The Roundabout as much in the black as possible.

I am a theatre artist, a producer, a woman of color.... I might understand why this play was chosen, but I don't have to like it.

If I get the chance to attend a performance, I will surely report back.

For now, read below and be your own judge.

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AAPAC Opposes Brownface in Roundabout Broadway Production

After seeing The Roundabout Theatre Company’s Broadway production of "The Mystery of Edwin Drood" and receiving numerous complaints about the use of brownface in the production, AAPAC feels it is necessary to release the following public statement:

We were deeply disappointed to see white actors impersonating characters of South Asian descent complete with brown grease paint, appropriation of costumes and dance movements and relying on stereotypes in place of characterization. The obvious talents of the actors notwithstanding, the use of brownface had the effect of being extremely surreal and alienating, as if a joke was being told that was not intended for the Asian American community to hear.

We understand that the racism inherent in this musical is a reflection of the social mores within 19th century British panto and Music Hall traditions. Director Scott Ellis was being true to tradition, historical precedent, and to the story itself.

However, we would assert that if these characters came from the British colonies of Jamaica or Cameroon, and not the British colony of Ceylon (now present day Sri Lanka), blackface would never have been utilized in the same casual way. Today, you would never see a white actor in blackface playing the title role in "Othello" with the excuse of, “oh, well, that’s what was done in Shakespeare’s day.” We wonder why minstrelsy is acceptable when it comes to Asians?

The Roundabout production seems to show little awareness of the long history of Asian impersonation we are trying to put behind us or how racial politics and demographics have changed even in the 28 years since this show first premiered. There were a myriad of ways Mr. Ellis could have handled this issue with more sensitivity. For one, he could have hired actors of actual South Asian descent. Or, if he wanted to preserve white actors in these roles, the use of brownface would have been more ironic or satirical had the entire ensemble been cast multi-culturally. This would have been particularly effective since Hispanic-American star Chita Rivera was already in the cast. However, we have heard from quite a few members of the Asian acting community, including those with major Broadway credits, that requests from their representatives to secure an audition were denied.

The Roundabout Theatre Company does not have a good record when it comes to inclusive casting. Last year, we released a report looking at the percentages of actors of color hired at 16 of the top not-for-profit theatre companies in New York City over a five year span. The Roundabout made our list of the five theatre companies least likely to hire actors of color. In fact, they ranked second to lowest.

We are reaching out to the Roundabout to engage in closed-door discussions about these issues and are hopeful that they will accept our invitation. We are certain that their record does not reflect a conscious policy of exclusion and we hope that by bringing these issues to a more conscious level, the Roundabout can become an ally in an industry-wide commitment to more inclusive casting.

In the meantime, if you feel as strongly as we do, it would be very helpful if you take two minutes to send Artistic Director Todd Haimes a short missive via their FB page:

https://www.facebook.com/RoundaboutTheatreCompany.

Until there is conscious attention given to these issues throughout the industry, opportunities for American actors of Asian descent--and all actors of color-- will never be truly equal.

Yours in Solidarity,

The AAPAC Steering Committee

Pun Bandhu, Cindy Cheung, Kimiye Corwin, Angel Desai, Siho Ellsmore, Christine Toy Johnson, Peter Kim, Julienne Hanzelka Kim, Nancy Kim Parsons, Kenneth Lee, Allan Mangaser, Eileen Rivera

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View the Letter in Original Format

AAPAC on Faceook

AAPAC = Asian American Performers Action Coalition

Competing to be June Cleaver

If you knew me way back when - you may not recognize me now.

Some days I feel like Martha Stewart: baking, taking care of our daughter, keeping up with housework...truly domestic. Other days, I wish I could call on my French au pair to go where I go so I could do the simple things in life that we all take for granted...like go to the restroom without fearing I'll have to jump off to save my daughter who may have fallen in the other room, even though she's just fine and asleep soundly in her crib.

Post-Grad School Blues

We've spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on degrees that are packed in boxes we rarely unpack in between the annual apartment moves.

The time spent educating ourselves would lead one to believe that post-graduation would be a breeze.   Right....

But with an MFA in Playwrighting, Directing or Acting... job applications are not always "submit your resume and list your special skills".  It's not quite so black and white for everyone.

While a fair amount of our other friends are buying homes, having children or making their comfortable livings as doctors, lawyers and ... there are many of us out there becoming what we've dreamed of since we were children, not because it will necessarily make us rich (although we've never complained about a couple dollars), but because it makes us happy and truly "rich".

Upon exiting graduate school, I believe there is a cloud that follows - it's hazy and colorful - one believes in the mirage of dreams from this cloud and then one day, you're down, the lowest you've ever been and who's there to help you?  Not help you in a little way - but help you in a way where you can be honest... we're not talking, "did you finish the play?".  We're talking head-hunters and job interviews at non-profits, waiting tables, corporate resumes and working at the GAP...


Post-Grad School is full of this extra stuff that has nothing at all to do with how many beats are in this scene or what is this character's objective.

Driving through this mess can seem hazy until you realize it's not only you out there.  But it can all mess with your identity.  If you get caught up in "What size sweater were you looking for", how long until you begin creating the schedule or doing things you're good at to pay the bills.

A healthy balance is hard, but necessary.  With the right people surrounding you - totally possible.

To all my post-grad school graduates, keep driving, surround yourself with good people and don't forget what you always wanted to be!

Happy Belated Black History Month

I was remiss in not mentioning the start of Black History Month in Friday's "Oreo" post. One might think that with a blog entitled, "The Day I Found Out I was Black" that I might be the first to take note, but motherhood distracts me from most of what made me who I was before having a baby and priorities are shifted.... sometimes drastically.

In my case, having a baby thrust me back to the days when I accomplished a lot in little time AND excelled (however I'm stilling working on the excel part).

So while my degrees and focus on black identity and culture in America and the Diaspora were 1st on my mind once upon a time, these days I'm most likely thinking about what I should make my daughter for lunch and if I should go to Whole Foods today or tomorrow.... before or after she naps.

However, my experience as an "Oreo" is exactly what led me to work on my MA in African American and African Diaspora Studies. So maybe it wasn't a bad introduction after all.

Happy Black History Month!

A Shout-Out to all my OREOS!

Happy Friday!

In honor of the end of the work week, let's keep it light... with a poem....

This poem is from "The Day I Found Out I was Black" - which was performed in 2004 at Indiana University.  I haven't read it in quite some time, so looking at it now made me chuckle  a little.  While I seriously had those feelings, it's nice to have gotten past them, but I know I'm not the only one who felt that way or who feels that way.  I have encountered many "oreos" since high school... had I known more, we could have bonded... but not all "oreos" make friends...you smile at one another, wave, have polite conversation, but that's pretty much it.

Last week, there was a re-tweet by playwright Katori Hall of a link to young woman's play "Life as an Oreo" by April A. Jones (@aprilreign91) - I have been thinking of this since then and dedicate this post to April and all the other Oreos out there!

 

 



 

 

 

 

 



 

Helmet Hair

Gabby Douglas made me think a lot this summer... I wrote this right before the Olympics wrapped... I suppose I finally have the guts to post it ...5 months later... remember my procrastination problem...

______________

Before my 1st communion in 2nd grade, I begged my mom for a perm. The other black girls in my elementary school had perms, and I wanted silky straight hair like theirs instead of my thick, almost unmanageable mane. Until then, my hair had been completely natural. For the first 5 years of my life, our nanny, Mary, would wash, blow dry and use a curling iron to straighten my hair with Vitapointe. Looking back, I wish that had been the case forever - I would have had the long hair I wanted... but natural. There is a photo of me with my brother on a “Slip and Slide” before my perm – my afro was large and in charge! How embarrassed I was to let the white girls at school see me like that. How proud I would be now.

[caption id="attachment_99" align="aligncenter" width="85"] ...my afro was large and in charge...[/caption]

As a child, I loved being light-skinned. I was comforted by the fact that I was closer to white. My hair, on the other hand, wasn’t quite there yet. My mother's curly and easily manipulated hair straightened with ease, while mine broke, burned and everything else if not properly cared for.

[caption id="attachment_25" align="aligncenter" width="196"] As a child, I loved being light skinned...[/caption]

So when I saw Gabby Douglas at the gymnastic trials in June, I got it. I didn't need any explanation for her hair, nor did I think it was any of my business. I was thrilled to see she and Elizabeth Price (the other Black teen who qualified as an alternate) on the team! The last time I watched so much gymnastics, Shannon Miller and Dominique Dawes reigned supreme. It was wonderful to watch this milestone take place in the history books for so many young black girls and women (including my 5 month old daughter)! It was nice to be excited again about a sport I admired so much as a pre-teen.

I had my own Olympic hopes once, but as an equestrienne in dressage and show jumping. Not nearly as “hair-raising” as gymnastics, but nonetheless, a fine and decidedly “elite” sport. Even more misunderstood and still requiring training that can often be expensive. Unfortunately, my brother and I stopped riding before that dream could come true (or else my parents, like Gabby's might have been faced with similar financial difficulties). I stuck with and excelled at more artistic things: ballet, singing, and the flute.

[caption id="attachment_34" align="aligncenter" width="202"] "I had my own olympic hopes once, but as an equestrienne..."[/caption]

Remember the “kiddie perm” from 2nd grade? Well, I went swimming that summer – and my hair was badly damaged. My “large and in charge afro” - destroyed. By the time I went to band camp, the only option while away from home for so long was braids, so that my hair would stay in place and I could focus on my music. Feeling unsettled, I sported the braids and beads look that summer, around the same time as Serena and Venus Williams. But I wasn’t a tennis champion showcasing my fashion sense. I saw myself in the wrong body and I hated that style, as it did not fit my personality. I hated seeing my scalp and was so happy when a few braids in the back became unraveled and the girls in my cabin could see my “real hair”. I remember feeling so embarrassed, wanting nothing more than to have long flowing hair, preferably in the shape of a ponytail that swayed side to side like Abby, the blonde basketball playing twin a few years older than me in elementary and middle school  that I thought was "so cool".

The few sprinklings of black children and teens I encountered in my “elite” activities were not interested in bonding. We glanced at each other, gave a little smile, but mainly preferred to remain the only speckle in our group of friends - shedding light on being black and embracing our race when necessary.

By the time I went to my all-girls Catholic high school, I was absolutely certain I was in the wrong body, and to emphasize how alien I felt, nicknamed myself "Oreo", encouraging my white friends in my high school drama group to call me that (but somehow never letting my mother know).

The handful of times I sat at the black lunch table were both awkward and comfortable. I felt like I could fit in, but was afraid to fully embrace what sitting at the “Black table” meant... that I was Black.

But the one thing all of the black girls, oreos and non-oreos alike, had in common, that I was still not getting, was their hair. It always looked "tight". Mine was usually worn in a bun, pulled back... rarely down. But when it was - I got a lot of comments... seems that my thick hair really straightened well (after I learned to take care of it). I, like Gabby, loved it long and flowing.

All of this changed, however when I went to college and encountered Blacks in a collegiate setting that made me fully embrace who I was in my natural state. I “transitioned” back to my natural hair in 2003. I owe my transition in part to Carolyn, a woman one year above me who transitioned and had the most beautiful spirals. I had no idea that’s what natural hair could look like. After letting my relaxer grow out a little bit, I realized that I too had the same spiral texture. I was scared to completely embrace something I had been trying to fry for the past 13 years or so, but I knew that who I was would only fully come through once I was less concerned with fitting into a mold that included straight hair and a keen nose.

Gabby Douglas is an Olympic champion who has so energetically broken down walls and made her country more than proud. But she is still a teenager, in predominantly white environments, trying to fit-in, trying to focus, not wanting to be bothered and doing what most of the other girls around her are doing, which in her case, means throwing her hair into a pony-tail that doesn’t really sway, but is good enough to please her surroundings and get her through the day.

When we look to her in 2016 Brazil, she will be 20, have a few endorsements under her belt and most likely a “make-over” of some sort. Her story will have inspired millions and her hair... well, we’ll just have to see...

Procrastination is a "you know what"!

I have wanted to actually publish this blog for months now... as you can see by my "Coming Soon" post from September... oops

So now I'm doing it after three days of have the site opened making some last minute changes, and a little pep-talk.

If you know my procrastinating ways, you won't be surprised, but as my friend told me this afternoon - it's really over-thinking, and as my husband usually says, "there's no sense in getting grey hairs over it".

So publishing this post is the end to over-thought... I wish

At least it's a start.