It is so real... (a stolen post from elsewhere!)

the tone is a lil' different... but thought you might enjoy. posted this as a blog for my other life. it's as close to an explanation of 'jahipster' as some folks will ever get...

It is five days post my 11-day poetry-storytelling blitzkrieg in Washington, D.C.and I am not fully recovered.

Ever tried to explain to somebody that you are exhausted from reciting poetry?People look at you sympathetically and purr about how "cool" that must have been; how much "fun" you had; and "oh... you must be tired" – but they don't really mean that last part.

But anyone else out there living a double-life, or even the synthesis of two lives, knows exactly what I'm talking about. No man can serve two masters. But Gen X tries really hard, don't we?

Thankfully, the new world order provides opportunities for synthesis,decreasing some of the stress of the double-life approach. Working in the educational non-profit sector has bridged the gap between my PhD and my drive to use it to educate, rather than lecture to, the masses. Furthermore, if you can find one of those almost hip, first-adopter bosses psyched by the idea of living vicariously through a diva vice president, you can even put "spoken word artist" in your job description.

So what's so tiring about all that? It's supported. It's paid. It comes with trips to DC and readings with American poetry icon Sonia Sanchez (who even remembers your name) and health insurance. It even makes you seem more human to your staff. Where is the strain in all that?

The mental shift.

The mental shift from idealistically practical management vision to a vision of practically idealistic empowerment is huge. Re-read that line. Carefully.

Consider these past two weeks as case study… My trip to Washington was part of my role as scholar-advisor to the Smithsonian FolklifeFestival. This year, the Giving Voice: The Power of Words in the African American Community component was not only being curatedby the Center for Folklife and Cultural Heritage, but also by the National Museum of African-American History and Culture (set to open on The Mall in a few years) whose liaison to the festival was John Franklin, as in son of the John Hope Franklin.

John Franklin and I have a relationship that dates back to my poet-life in Baltimore working on a major storytelling-poetry project for AARP, and a revived relationship in my work-life via an exhibition hosted by my new job in my new city.

So that's how I got on the advisory committee. Yes. That "who you know" thing works in the non-profit, save-the-babies-not-the-stock-market world of us tree huggers, too.
I up'd my work-life role of scholar advisor to synthesis-life role of scholar-advisor-performer through well-honed poet-life hustle skills. Rule #1: Always know how to talk yourself onto a stage.

Tired yet? Well, breath deep and grab a power drink because at that stage the real work hadn't even begun.

It isn't simply that this project required 8 months of pre-work advising the festival in conjunction with my daily duties at work. It isn't the fact that I did my first ever single-day turnaround – flying in at 6am for a full 10-hr work-life day and then flying back out that evening at 8pm to resume poet- and synthesis-life full throttle. It wasn't even the mad DC subway dash to Macy's(yes, Macy's) for a suit and heels required for an impromptu White House meeting on accessibility in the arts.

It is the mental gymnastics that will tire you out. Fundamentally, managing vision through a company – be it profit or social sector – is about competing in your realm to achieve greatness, irrespective of the impetus being arrogance or beneficence. Conversely, cultivating empowerment through art is about acknowledging every person's right to sing kumbaya loudly and giving them the tools to do so in the absence of competition for perfect pitch.

Granted, the gold standard in business is ethical, humanistic management and the pinnacle of art requires disciplined application of craft, but fundamentally we are talking about two very different personas through which you can interact with the world.

Can you imagine me slipping up? Can you see me in a staff meeting beaming with pride,tears of joy rolling down my face, as I rush to hug my Director of Public Programming for his artful balancing of the Culture Fest budget? Perhaps, you can draw a mental picture of me pausing between poetry sets to create a SWOT analysis of a moderately successful open-mic night and suggesting the emcee consider a Meyers-Briggs approach to managing wayward rappers.

This is not left brain-right brain. This is middle brain trying to prevent matter and anti-matter explosions… until we get a critical mass of double-lifers on the rocket ship. (And that's in addition to trying to figure out how I cover-up the afro from 9 to 5, and hide the cuffed Claiborne suiting after dark.)

No question about it: The folk festivals, open micnights, and underground think tanks across the country are fascinated by my ability to translate across worlds and consider it a valuable asset to mission and movement; conversely, CEOs and executive leadership teams consider my synthesis of double-lives a marketable asset that may ultimately allow dominance in service to non-traditional and 21st century audiences and consumers. It's good to be loved. And has the makings of an awesome resume.

But, this kind of shifting is tiring. Requires constant awareness and mental vigilance. It also requires difficult choices about who to be and when. Radical shifts in language and posture are called for in rapid succession. There are even times when you are expected to convey both existences simultaneously. This is a lot of work. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

So when you blog back, comment or stop me on the street – and I know you will because you've read all the way to the end – tell me about your double life.Tell me how you are or are not choosing to create synthesis and survival mechanisms.Tell me about the double life you are thinking about creating. Because you know us avant-garde, next gen, double-life synthesizers: we're always looking for new tips… and new lives.

Four Things I've Learned at the Folklife Festival

#1 I learned two new stories. I am pretty serious about this training to be a storyteller thing - my dues to NABS, notwithstanding. (National.Association.of.Black.Storytellers) One about two sisters... definitely requires a slightly older audience and some finesse on the lesson. And one about King Hippo - which I have already told differently twice.

#2 I learned that Sister Sanchez is emboldened and comforted by the work I am my contemporaries are doing. I have known for some time that she is really into the work of building supporting loving young writers, young poets, young black people. But to hear her specifically reference me and other folks I knew was a whole other experience. (and a reminder that i need to stay on my game... for a reason. there is much work to do.)

#3 I learned a new concept around "technology." In chatting with Baba Teju (one of the storytellers who has done some major training as a healer-warrior during his extended stay in Africa in which he discovered he was the oldest living male of his tribe... so that made him chief... a whole other story. i digress...), he alluded to the various technologies associated with particular cultures. The Europeans as "mechanical" technology; Chinese as "body" technology; Native Americans as "nature" technology; and Africans as "spiritual" technology. He, of course, was focusing on the loss or manipulation or disavowing of African spiritual technology by black people... but I began ruminating. So... if you have the keepers or teachers or "naturals" of particular technologies... and each of these technologies is powerful, but none of them are particularly self-sufficient to builing or healing a world... doesn't this work as an alternate ending to the story of what we lost via the tower of Babylon? What if it was the separation of technologies, not the separation of languages... and therefore, in order to evolve and move the planet forward, all the people would have to come together to reunite the technologies into our "whole." hmmm....

#4 I learned I am beautiful in Columbia. Because I now have two Columbian stalkers (and at least ten gawkers and yesmen). Stalkers are never good ... but this has been a clear indication that "I" (meaning what I represent, my general look) am still the standard of beauty somewhere. It has been quite...reinforcing. Yes, we have "These Hips" and, sure, there is "AFRODITE", and .... yes, sisters can compliment each other and write odes to ourselves all daggone day. But there is always something special added to your day when a brother tells you that you are beautiful. And, for whatever reason... that just doesn't happen enough.

So... how 'bout that Supreme Court ruling?

okay. so i know you have been paying attention.
i know you know there is a hispanic sister up for supreme court nomination.
did you know that she is generally middle-of-the-road rather than liberal with a few particular exceptions?

do you know the supreme court overturned one of those exceptions yesterday?

justice sotomayor wrote the ruling of the lower court that said that yes, if you have a test and the white guys pass and get promoted but none of the black guys do, then you have a problem.

the city threw out the test. there was an investigation, a panel, some wrangling. and then no one got promoted. the city contends that such racially disparate results meets the criteria of discrimination.

the city's problem: did the right thing, but didn't have good enough lawyers to phrase their decision correctly. the city stated, outright, that it was throwing out the results because it was afraid the black guys would sue.

the white guys sued instead.

the supreme court ruling actually says that because the city's only reason for throwing out the test results was fear of a law suit, throwing out the test was invalid. applying the just slammed legal standard of "disproportionate racial results"... is no longer enough.

so the take home message? we had just gotten to the point where you had to jump through hoops in order to justify lack of diversity or the absence of discrimination if you had no black folks on your team. now you have to jump through hoops to try to fix it. (believe or not... not my words, npr's nina totenberg's summary http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=106038551)

ladies and gents; brothers and sisters;
i'm going to put this on my list of the "brand new okie dokes."

this is why a nation of critical thinkers is imperative to progress. (it may also be why our school system sucks... to maintain the status quo... but that is a conspiracy theory i don't have time to get in to.)

to those of us who have been trained in and have been moving through the "majority" world, it is quite clear that racism and discrimination is not what it used to be. much more nuanced. the crosses don't burn on front lawns anymore; they burn in people's hearts. and the numbers may be small... but we all know the power of a committed minority - regardless of whose side they are on. those of us who simply look to the "visible" signs of progress are missing the point.

i am not suggesting that the supreme court or lawyers on the "other side" or even the white firefighters are closet cross burners. i am suggesting that we are all susceptible to missing the modern subtleties of discrimination and disparate behavior. or even the legacy of overt behaviors that we simply haven't gone deep enough to fix.

it has not been considered, it seems, that a more sophisticated version of discrimination would be to have all of the people pass the test but only certain of the people pass with scores that could get them promoted.

to believe anything else, is to believe that black firefighters are naturally less qualified, or lazy, or unprepared, or unsuited for leadership.

hmm.

for those of you who see President Obama as the signal that we have arrived, i suggest you look down at your feet. please make sure that your shoelaces are not hooked on to that bus that is rolling down the hill... backwards.

I'm Totally Foucsed, man!

Back in the game, day 1. (Well... It's actually Day 2 now because I couldn't figure out how to remote blog on day 1. But I'm getting it!)

And I remember things like... This thing takes muscles - vocal muscles. I'm building those back up! I have learned how to take care of my voice by being around singers.

What? Poets have to take care of thier voice? Now, you're just being a diva, Jahipster.

Nope. Think about: I had three hour-long sets, plus an impromtu 30 radio interview today at the Folklife festival. Knock of 10 min for set-up time. Cut the shared sessions to half time, and you still have about 2 hours of talk time.

Not talk-conversation time. I'm talkin' belly tightening diaphragm lifting projecting rapid fire multi-octave performance-talk time.

So yea. Drink water. Make tea and get that singer's something throat spray.

Ahem. I am feeling a bit scratchy.

Making the Switch: Double lives are possibly overrated

Among the many many ways I am not ready... and among the long long list of things to do to truly consider myself "prepared" for my performances this week at the Smithsonian Folklife Festival... is a real standout: I'm stuck in double ID limbo.

Making the "switch" between persona and professor is a major transformation. Now, when I'm in true form - regularly open mic'ing, actively writing, and teaching - the transformation can take place in a dressing room. It's amazing what an afro will do for you if you really let it do the work!

But in my new role of "high powered almost all consuming diva manager", where there is always something for me to do or think about in relation to my job, the switch is much harder.

I am under-confident; my stomach is tight.

And dang it. I don't feel like a diva.

Though the stewardess did tell me I was beautiful. And that helped.

But, in common vernacular - I need to chill the frick out. In poet speak, I need to take a minute to ohm. Maybe I'll just quote myself...

with some appropriate paraphrasing...

time to remix sankofa
into the song of solomon
and fly myself home

this is a spiritual war
and i’m gon’ need to take a minute and ohm
before tying up my ashe
gathering my chi
and strapping on my redemption
all ancestors on deck
shake away the self-doubt
cleanse this aura and

wipe that plantation grin off my face



it's time. see you soon.