Assignments for Dr. Ahmad’s Students
ASSIGNMENT: Word to the People!
From: Dr. Ahmad
Date: September 2, 2008
Guidelines:
Over the next few weeks, go to the blog: For those of us who believe healing is possible. (http://communityspeak.wordpress.com/) for the upcoming poetry performance by Righteous A.I.M. and respond to any of the questions posted there. You can also respond to any of the comments listed below as well. You can respond in the form of a poem, essay or some other detailed commentary. Your poem should be at least 15 lines long, be thoughtful and inventive with your constructions. Make sure to check your spelling too. Please post at least two times over the next few weeks until the show on September 18 in Harrison Auditorium, doors open at 6:30 pm.
Lastly, if you feel inspired by someone else’s commentary, consider responding to those comments as well.
Questions:
1. What is the responsibility of the Black poet/performance artist to her or his community?
2. What does it mean to have a healing in the Black Community?
3. How would you define your community?
4. How do you see the state of the Black Family/the Black community?
5. What is the responsibility of the college educated Black to his or her community?
6. How can your words, as poets/performers, be of use to members of your own communities?
7. What are the rights and responsibilities of your generation to your community?
24 Comments
In response to question number 4, I see the state of the Black Family and Community as one big cycle. I believe it starts as far back as slavery. The black man was sold off and therefore not in the house hold, no longer there to help take on the responsibility of caring for the family. If he ever made it back, his family was gone. I do not think that people take the time to look that far back into the past. Today, the same thing is happening, our men are not there and feel that they have no reason to be. Over the years I have changed my way of thinking when I speak about young men making babies and not caring for them. Let me also shine the spot light on our women. We are having babies for the wrong reasons and then expecting to be taken care of. We are the bearers of our race and WE should want and expect more. Being a mother is such a beautiful thing and we should want to become mothers thinking so. It is one big cycle that needs to change and soon. Instead of getting better, it is getting much worse. As far as the black community is concerned, so many black people are quick to say “I’m not black, I’m this or I’m that.” We as a people are lacking PRIDE, we do not understand how much is already against us just being BLACK. But we must want better for ourselves as well as for our community, as far as voting, school, finances, and family! Long story short, it must start somewhere.
Peace and Blessings…..
What does it mean to have a healing in the Black Community?
I believe that it means that the Black Community needs to be cured of the elements that ail it. The Black Community has lost its way and there are certain factors (drugs, disease,political unawareness, violence, etc) inside of the Black Community that is eating away at it like a disease. It will take a powerful move of God and the cooperation of all Black people to build us up to where we need to be, to a place where we can hold our heads high a people. I believe that responsibility primarily falls on this generation to lift the value of education because it very low in the Black Community and American society, in general. Education, I believe, is the biggest problem that we face and the lack of education breds other major issues. It is true that the Black Community needs a healing and I hope that it comes before it is too late.
As poets and writers, we been discussing what our responsibilities are to our audiences. AS Black poets and writers, what might our responsibilities be to our community, to our generation?
Here’s a poem entered as a response:
we speak…
what is the weight of speaking,
of expressing one’s own mind?
what can we speak if we are not free?
what is the measure
of my words on your tongue,
the sheer volume of my intention
hoisted up against yours?
when will it matter,
the things I say,
the articulation of thought
poured into plausible action?
when will we, a diasporic expression
of blackness borne
of the motherland, source
of all human life;
when will we,
daughters and sons
of earth’s first beginning,
when will we
speak again with our own voices
truth that will liberate,
will provide a light unto this world?
we who did not die,
did not perish under the weight
of oppression, of exploitation,
did not succumb to the lust
of warmongers, of moneychangers
or whose souls rise
above the foul breath
of despair, when will we…
we who would not buy into,
the mindless welfare
or dispensation of pale elites
whose hands and very breath
are an affront to just and peace loving people,
when will we give body to action?
when will we speak
for the voiceless?
when will we
speak for the children
with hope and innocence
still in their eyes? when
will we speak for the elders
scarred from the deathless journey
into night? when,
my bros and sisters,
the promise
of the wrongly enslaved,
the resisters
whose runaway steps
held the fiber of their dreams
that we have become, when
will we speak?
let us rise;
let us find our voices;
let us speak now
with the vision and actions
of those who would be free. Let us speak…
~~Dr. Anjail Rashida Ahmad
A dream deferred…does it run or die?
Do you speak with words of endearment or truth?
Do you tell your story to encourage…
Or do you speak against your past…?
What ill passion can come from those who live?
Remorse and betrayal, lost and confused.
A heart that dies doesn’t grow.
A mind that’s stuck won’t ever learn.
My oppression is my weakness, my resolve
is without strength, so my confirmation to existance is within my grasp.
I refuse to back down with cowardice…
I shout with determination that I am alive
So let the dead bury each other and we
take up unfinished business.
The past can’t move forward, and the present is the start of our future.
So my voice speaks to resolve those who are unyielding to their fate.
The above poem is in response to Dr.Ahmad’s post.
We speak
but it falls on deaf ears
We speak
for everyone to hear our prays
but no one listens
As the tears glisten in our eyes
We try not to lose hope
or choke on the words that are trying to find its way into the hearts of those
who can make a change
Can’t you hear us?
We cry out for a helping hand
Like Moses on the way to the promise land
We are a lost generation
fumbling around in a dark desert
of deception, disease, death, and destruction
Hoping to be found
Bound by our past and the mistakes
we fail to take responsibility for
No more will we be silenced by the little voice in the back of our minds
The one that wants your true voice to die
The one that depresses you and says
“No one is listening, so why do you speak?”
Our response will forever be,
“Why not?”
We speak for those who cannot speak for themselves
Those uninterested in change
Those complacent who bare no grudge, still blood boils beneath their veins.
Every individual buried, we must awake!
Though integration brought us together, we divide ourselves all the same
We tear down are leaders who fought and die for us
Believing their old age renders out of touch.
The same people who criticize have done nothing to open eyes
The pointed fingers must stop
We’ve spoken but what have we really said of pride,
Activistism or of our African ties?
It was a wise man who said
We have become “well adjusted to injustice”
Cornell West
That statement says we know what’s wrong
We just choose not to correct
We must come to some sort of common ground
Or the foundation we speak for would have died in vein
What is it going to take for us to truly speak?
Speak what’s on our minds
Better yet our hearts
We no longer have to merely survive
As a people we deserve more than to just get by
The blessing is in the struggle
So why not fight?
Those many years of prayer, have risen towards the light
So reading things over, what can we each do as an individual Black person to bring about change within our communities? What does it matter what we do? Are we each just independent individuals bearing no responsibility to the rest of the folks within our communities? I’m thinking if each of us does not see how our thoughts, choices and actions have a way of informing and shaping the world in which we live then we still have a long way to go.
I also think it is important to see beyond the present moment. While you may see yourself as an inhabitant of the present, keep in mind you are, at the same time, the future of your parents, grandparents and ancestors. This being so, the fate of the Black race is upon your shoulders, is in your hands. If you see hopelessness through your eyes, then waht is left for us as a people still recovering from400 – 500 years of being held down, of being held back? Please answer me this…
Yours in hopefulness and affirmation,
Dr. A
We can bring about change by learning our history. Knowing our history helps us feel that sense of attachment towards our communities. Right now we are in a crisis. Our individual thinking harms us as a people. We need to do for ourselves as well as others. The motto we should adopt is; share knowledge with the young and learn form the old.
We each must bear the cross of hope, responsibility and humility. This being said, we can’t do for others what others can’t do for themselves. A lot of times people will look around waiting for someone to do something instead of doing it themselves and at these times we as individuals should not just lead by example but help them help themselves so the attitude and tone of our pride and justice is not just in our character but surrounded in our presence. Because its not hopeless and its far from impossible. It’s all within arm’s length but the real question is how do we obtain it and keep it. Do we step over the people closest to it to take it and force it into their hands or do we ask politely for them to pick it up and hand it to us?
In response to queston #6. Words as well as actions can change situations. Wheather it is one word or a thousand words. As poets and peformers I think that it is our duty to deliver the most positive words of wisdom to others that surround us. In certain community settings positive words are useful, especially in a time of destruction or corruption. So for some people these positive words can not just brighten up ones day or make a change, but they can also encourage somebody else who is in need.
a poem in response to Dr. Ahmad’s poem
My Daughter’s Blood
Slit my daughter’s throat and let her bleed
or simply snap her neck and let her die slowly…
id rather you erase her existence than way than to keep her from her history
i am watching her die slowly
but as her mother I endure the agony
she knows of Mandela but nothing of his struggle
she cannot understand how he is still imprisoned but free
yet your school claims to be feeding her knowledge
bu when i ask my daughter what she learned in school today
my child spits back garbage
not wanting to create her own, she is content with fertilizing her seed with your legacy
my child will give birth to niggers
oblivious to their innate beings and the glorious uproar they will trigger
they will know nothing of their ancestry
or how the U.S. of A truly came to be
sounding like a blubbering idiot
my child tells me she wishes she was as pretty as queen elizabeth
damn you’ve done a good job at sterilizing our generations
but i will past down our stories
and teach her of the kings and queens both you and i derived from
It seems we speak
But have no voice,
Have no choice but to feel
That some of ideas aren’t real,
Like we don’t get it,
They dismiss it,
Our cries of dispair,
Like there’s smoke in the air
With no water,
Looking for ways to get caught up,
But some strayed
Got caught up,
With no release,
No police sympathy in they’re eyes,
We speak so they can at least empathize,
But what should we expect,
Who really wants to feel the neglect that we do,
In the mirror asking “Who are you?”
With no response,
And slight chance to romance the same stones thrown at us,
We roam backwards,
Looking in the past trying to change matters hoping that they get the message,
We can’t be heard talking in the wrong direction,
But yeah we speak
My block,
It seems stuck in time,
I’ve grown over the years
I go back there,
It’s still 1999,
It’s still hard for me to find
Reasons for me to face it,
Same cats in the same places,
Same track
Same rat races,
Same stoop,
Different seeds planted
Grow with the same roots,
New young G’s
Stomping in the same boots
No corporate ladder
So they falling down the same chute,
But there’s still potential,
And so many minds to reach,
Knowing this
Is the motivation that I find to teach,
So I give back
Putting East Elmhurst on mine,
I’m still living
And as long as I’m breathing
So there’s still time
Question: How do you see the black family
The black family has perpetuated the slave masters breed and separate mentality. We have more men fathering children but not taking responsibility for raising them. anybody can father a child but it takes a man to raise a child. We have to teach our young men that it is important to a child to have their father in their life. on the same token we have to teach our young females to be sensitive to the plight of the black man in America today. It is not easy for anyone in the black race in America, where they say we are free to pursue the American Dream, As Black Americans we have to remember the American Dream wasn’t a dream that included Black people. As black people and as the Black Family we have to dream our own dream and make that dream come true… The one thing that we as a black family must do is become a cohesive unit and not a Dis-functional unit.
just another poem
“What If “
What if Slavery never Existed
What if the ship never Sailed
Would Martin Luther King Still have a Dream?
Would Malcolm X still be part of the Muslim Scene?
What would the NAACP stand For
Would HBCU’s still be the Core?
What happened to the civil War?
Would they still have Confederate Flags?
Would Blacks be seen as Bad?
Sad, Sad, Sad
Most of us don’t even know who we are
But Who would we be if not for the Sky’s and the Stars
Could we heal if not for Pain And Scars?
Would there be any Importance If not for Chains and Bars
Sold, Sold, Sold
Niggers for Sale on the Local Boulevard
Not Talking Houses And Cars
Talking Humans, Emotions, Feelings of “God”
NO Respect MORE Disrespect for Feelings of SOB
“Man Up bOy”
Take These Harsh Whippings like A Plastic TOY
Let The Glass stick in your Back like Vanes
Let The Salt Roll Down the Cracks Like Rain
“Why You Cryin “BoY” its Just a Little Pain”
That’s What they Yell OUT
While the Black Man is Getting Slained
Shame, Shame, Shame
Willie Lynch Done set us against Each other like Day and Night
Now it’s an ongoing fight just to get up right
WE Blind WE Blind!!! Blocked from Vision and Sight
WE Lost WE Lost!!! We can’t find our way home
Unlike Others we Stand Alone
Shunned From oneself, forced to assimilate to others
WE know other Families but Don’t understand our own Mothers
SPLIT AND CLUSTERD
We See Brothers And Sisters as Distant Strangers
IT GETS STRANGER
We’ll Fight against our own before we Fight for our own
I’ll Degrade mine before I Insult Yours
I’ll expand the Issue and Deepen The Soars
Confused, Confused
The mind is misunderstood and misused
Very abused Beaten and Bruised
How Much will we take before we finally dish out
We the Spider in the Water Spout
Bout to Get Washed Out
When will we unite to stir a never-ending fright
Among the other community that wants us to fade into the night
TIME, TIME, TIME
Time Awaits For us To awake
Been Sleep to long TIME to claim Our Base
African KINGS and QUEENS are back to the Chase
Blacks ARE Now Leaders Of an Ongoing Race
United States OF Africa
OR
Africa’s United States
WE ALL STAND TOGETHER ON THIS NEW FOUND BASE
WHAT IF
WHAT IF
WHAT IF
What is the responsibility of the Black poet/performance artist to her or his community?
I feel that the responsibility of an African American poet to their commuinty is to express his/her thoughts and speak for the community as a whole.What I mean by that is standing up for what everyone,including themselves,believes an going out and trying to make a difference for the black community.I feel that the people would look for a peraon that will be bold and not afraid speak their mind about trying to make a change in the community.
I feel as though alot of the college educated Black do not use their college education to better their community and others around them. Being the college educated Black we should use our education as an advantage to build up our community. We should encourage each other to stop using lack of education as a crutch and learn how to lend out a helping hand. Though some of us are educated it is our own ignorance that is holding us back as a race.
Good Question
When will we speak?
The idea of such a question
The audacity
“Let us speak”, but what’s the point if no one’s listening?
What’s the point of uttering a word if you won’t hear me?
What’s the purpose of making noise if it doesn’t make a sound?
We live in a time that would rather speak tomorrow then tell the truth right now.
When will we speak for the voiceless you ask?
Good Question…you tell me.
How about the day that the voiceless consists of those born mute, respectively?
The
Voiceless
Is
Me
And the voiceless is you.
The government seems to have all the answers, ask them…
They’ll know what to do.
It’s as if those that did not die physically
Perished mentally
Stuck in this medium like life after death,
Missing loved ones and family.
The voiceless is we.
Until we decide to speak up
For injustice and the war,
the day were fed up.
Will be the day we call tomorrow
Then slowly turn to yesterday
Because we failed to speak up and forgot what to say.
The weight of speaking must be a ton…
Because we so choose to hold our tongue.
Instead of speaking truth that will liberate
We fill our silence with loss and hate.
Our youth will remain hopeless unable to seek us
Because our voices remain hidden
And we’ve yet to speak up.
The responsibility of the black poet to his or her community is to voice truth. It is a terrible thing that the negatives are highlighted and praised in the media. Stop writing about drugs, sex and violence. Start writing about creating a movement of power and esteem. Free your mind and your soul to voice truth about poverty and racism of all forms. Embrace one another and be open to all kinds of differences. This world needs african american poets that will uplift and empower the community. If you want to tell a love story, write about the love you have for your community. If you want to write about drugs…write about a new prescription, anti-drug that will heal and set free. If you want to talk about violence, let’s talk about how violence is NOT the way to solve problems. If ALL poets put forth the work and effort to voice truth the people will listen and perform in such a way as the black poet speaks.
This is in response to the question that said what the job of black poets and performers. I personally feel that our job is to express things as we see them, nothing mor and nothing less.
Census
Hello this is a survey are you willing to participate.
Yes
Please answer the questions as honestly as possible
What’s your name?
Cynthia Williams
Where are you from?
Raleigh, NC
What’s your ethnicity and sex?
African American Female
Now who are you?
I just told you my name
I didn’t ask you your name I asked you who you were
Ok I’m a poet
Still not the answer I’m looking for who are you
I’m a black poet
Listen closely and think carefully before you answer this time who are you
I am Eve’s daughter, Lucy’s descendant
My mother’s daughter and my grandmother’s baby
I am the bust made from the mold of feminism
And painted the rich hue of warm caramel
I am a combination of my ancestors cross breeding
I am the miracle of God’s creation
I am who I choose to be, I am that preverbal blackness
A mixture of everything known to man
I am the Great American Melting pot
A little bit of this a little bit of that
I am a watcher, a recorder
I snap images and tape scenes of life
I use my pen constantly painting pictures of how things accrue to me and artistically regurgitate culture
I am a story teller, a griotee
A history keeper of my time
I am limitless and undefined
Through my expression I am invincible and immortal
Who am I, I am who I am
Next question!
This is in response to Dr. Ahmad’s question. How can your words, as poets/performers, be of use to members of your own communities?
Are you serious?
YO, THIS IS SERIOUS MAN!!
The world and its grave concerns
Sorrow and depression darkening the days of happiness
A little joy speckling the night’s sky
All in all it’s beautiful
How do you recognize good days with out bad ones?
What’s politically correct when right is a point of view?
So where does “seriousness” begin
To a 5 year old needing a pink crayon but only getting a standard set is a serious issue
Though to you it may be cute; to me it’s hilarious
But on the flip side genocide in Darfur carries more weight or at least it does in an adult mind state
The severity of “seriousness” varies from person to person and that’s what makes the human race amazing
Diversity is the key, the spectrum through which we see and are seen
So what’s urgent to him may be minor to them
Yet in the same context “seriousness” is collectively defined
What do I mean when I say that this is serious business?
Ask me and see that answer I come up with
Because even in the most playful of minds lies a person with a valid point to make
Don’t make the mistake of judging a problem through a narrow scope
Open your mind and be susceptive to what ever seriousness is presented to you
In response to Question #3, I have two communities (home in New york, and here in Greensboro) that I would describe completely different from the other.
In New york, my community is defined as a place that nurtures success. It is somewhat of a nest for all generations to feel safe and comfortable while being able to learn and grown from the experiences of others, no matter the age difference. Everyone felt as if he/she had a place, role, or responsibility that could be of benefits to another.
However, the community that I am a part of here in Greensboro is defined as a place that enhances the laws of competition. A place where you’re pride is more valuable than any lesson you could possibly instill within another beings life. Why? I have the slightest idea.
Now, the bigger question is, “what is the difference between the two communities?” And the sad answer is, my community in New York is at least, 90% Caucasian while my community here in NC is the complete opposite.
What does that say about African Americans? Possibly, that we aren’t as unified as we would like to believe.
In this day in age, a change is needed. But who’s going to initiate the change if the community doesn’t support the vision?