i've talked to you guys a million times before about my neighborhood, but let me talk some more about it just in case you forgot.
washington heights is Dominican. it hasn't always been that way. i got a history lesson today from an irish woman who was born at the hospital down the street from my house and raised her entire life in inwood (the very northern most tip of manhattan - a couple neighborhoods up from the heights). she didn't say much that i haven't heard, but it did open to my eyes a great deal to the defensive posture of many of the lifers.
i would never undermine the struggle of a minority. i am all up in that struggle every day. my fiance is Dominican and has been unnecessarily stopped, ticketed, etc.. i've walked with him down the street and had cops ask me if i was ok. for the past couple of years i've seen another side - the other side of the story. new york is obviously a very dramatic place to live. there's always something. but it is very interesting growing up being the whitest of any white person and then partnering with a latino and seeing the world from a completely different perspective.
that said - i still don't agree with something that's become really popular/totally socially acceptable (depending on the circles you run in). nigga. the word makes me absolutely cringe. i used to let it be a silent, inward cringe. now i say something. "nigga" to me undermines the struggle. and i think the people who use it feel like because they have lived/are living the struggle they are entitled to take such liberties.
yesterday on the train there was a young black guy who did a spoken word piece on using the word. "...it's nigger. replacing the ER with an A doesn't make it right...." he wrote something so stunning and had the perfect cadence. there's always a fine line with spoken word (in my opinion). you can jump from sounding totally genius to sounding like an a-hole really quickly. this guy was incredible.
i cried while i listened to him. i thought about how different the world would look if we each stepped into our intended roles - to be the whole-est versions of ourselves. maybe people feel bad for him because he's a young black guy doing spoken word on the train for money on a freezing cold day. i looked at him and thought about how that guy is using one of the most beautiful art forms to shake his very own generation awake. i thought about how much guts it takes to share any art, but especially confrontational art that can instigate feelings of negativity and judgement.
i clapped so loudly for him and then i looked at him and told him how amazing i thought he was. he thanked me, was genuine in his gratitude, and moved to the next train car. i thought about how many other people on that train ride were moved by his brave generosity.
what am i doing to make people move more towards being their whole selves? what are you doing?
washington heights is Dominican. it hasn't always been that way. i got a history lesson today from an irish woman who was born at the hospital down the street from my house and raised her entire life in inwood (the very northern most tip of manhattan - a couple neighborhoods up from the heights). she didn't say much that i haven't heard, but it did open to my eyes a great deal to the defensive posture of many of the lifers.
i would never undermine the struggle of a minority. i am all up in that struggle every day. my fiance is Dominican and has been unnecessarily stopped, ticketed, etc.. i've walked with him down the street and had cops ask me if i was ok. for the past couple of years i've seen another side - the other side of the story. new york is obviously a very dramatic place to live. there's always something. but it is very interesting growing up being the whitest of any white person and then partnering with a latino and seeing the world from a completely different perspective.
that said - i still don't agree with something that's become really popular/totally socially acceptable (depending on the circles you run in). nigga. the word makes me absolutely cringe. i used to let it be a silent, inward cringe. now i say something. "nigga" to me undermines the struggle. and i think the people who use it feel like because they have lived/are living the struggle they are entitled to take such liberties.
yesterday on the train there was a young black guy who did a spoken word piece on using the word. "...it's nigger. replacing the ER with an A doesn't make it right...." he wrote something so stunning and had the perfect cadence. there's always a fine line with spoken word (in my opinion). you can jump from sounding totally genius to sounding like an a-hole really quickly. this guy was incredible.
i cried while i listened to him. i thought about how different the world would look if we each stepped into our intended roles - to be the whole-est versions of ourselves. maybe people feel bad for him because he's a young black guy doing spoken word on the train for money on a freezing cold day. i looked at him and thought about how that guy is using one of the most beautiful art forms to shake his very own generation awake. i thought about how much guts it takes to share any art, but especially confrontational art that can instigate feelings of negativity and judgement.
i clapped so loudly for him and then i looked at him and told him how amazing i thought he was. he thanked me, was genuine in his gratitude, and moved to the next train car. i thought about how many other people on that train ride were moved by his brave generosity.
what am i doing to make people move more towards being their whole selves? what are you doing?
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