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Nonviolent Rap Song of the Week #4 Wish You Could See Me by Haystak

Wish you could see me is from one of America's most underrated White rappers EVER. Haystak's first album Car Fulla White Boys was one of my top favorite solo album releases of all time. Great album, great production, raps, etc. But it seemed to me a lot of politics played into his lack of overall success. Nevertheless, this record is a classic and Wish You Could See Me is one of the best songs on this album.

One of the things many of us forget when we observe Hip-Hop in all of its core forms, it that ALL OF IT, it a guerrilla arts response to being boxed out of society.

Another thing that is hard to comprehend is that even if you take the most violent, offensive, shocking, rap song you can thing of- it is STILL nonviolent. Essentially, a person was mad and wrote a poem rather than kill. We can debate the impact of art on society and try to define when art imitates life or if its the other way around. What we cannot debate is that no matter how you feel about it and angry kid wrote a poem.

Rather than be mad that the kid wrote a poem that scared you, you should be trying to figure out what in his world could make him that mad.

The violence is always around them. The death is always around them. The impact of the violence and the death pushed them at an early age to think a lot about theology, philosophy and politics before they even know what the topics are.

This song is deep and has brought me to tears many times. It is one of the most touching tributes to a young mans' dead friends ever made.


We had high hopes just knowing he'd pull through
But he got this look on his face like he just knew
He might not be able to come back
I said squeeze my hand if you feel me- he didn't react
So that's one more homie that we lost to the late night
[Rain Starting]
Kill tha head light pull up at tha grave sight
We were there twenty minutes seemed like forever it lasted
His brother broke down his moms collapsed on tha casket
See tha caretaker throw the first shovel of dirt
I can't begin to describe how much that hurt
I can begin to describe I ain't going pretend
I can't begin to describe that

I encourage you to listen to the full song and read the annotated lyrics at Rap Genius.

WATCH: Wish You Could See Me 

To read more about nonviolence in Hip-Hop read Bobby, Bruce & the Bronx: The Secrets of Hip-Hop Chess in Amazon.com.

Nonviolent Rap Song of the Week #3 Self Destruction

                        Top rappers came together to try and stop the violence on the streets. 

Self Destruction was a record dropped in 1987 meant to help curb Black violence across the country. It was spearheaded by KRS ONE and included some of the biggest names in Hip-Hop at the time. Public Enemy, Heavy D, MC Lyte and many others were also on the song.

At the time they launched the Stop the Violence Movement. It was a valiant effort. But between the lack of big financial support and Hip-Hop being in its infancy not much came from it in terms of concrete impact. It did, however, serve as a blueprint that rappers use to this day to share their thoughts on violence. No other form of music in the history of the earth has as many songs about violence as rap.

It also showed that Hip-Hop artists were dedicated to more than partying. Inside Hip-Hop we knew that, but from the outside looking in, I understand how it may have been hard to see. Hip-Hop was one of the first victims of "fake news".

I think when people look at Hip-Hop we might look at LIVE AID or We Are The World as one off songs.

Self Destruction was not a one off. It was the epicenter for a wave of songs on peace, nonviolence, and records looking at the trauma of violence in the hood. I have to admit though that I never liked this beat. At all....Sometimes I think when people get ready to do songs for the community, they make half baked beats. I found it hard to believe that all these dope people could come together and have such a yawn worthy beat. But the spirit of the track was more important.

WATCH: Self Destruction now! 

Read the annotated lyrics to Self Destruction at Rap Genius. There is no parental advisory for this song.

To read more about nonviolence in Hip-Hop read Bobby, Bruce & the Bronx: The Secrets of Hip-Hop Chess  on Amazon or Smashwords.

An Open Letter to Bruce Lee from Hip-Hop Chess Federation

Dear Bruce Lee,

        On the 44th anniversary of your death, I find myself very short on words. I was only 3 when you passed away. It would be 6 more years for me to learn who you were. But my life after that was forever changed. I still remember it very vividly. 

        In the Summer of 1979 (yes I know, I'm quite old) my father came home with some of the newest technology in his hand. It was a VHS tape recorder. For the first time, American's could watch movies in their house as often as they'd like. The first two films my dad brought were Alien and Return of the Dragon. I did not know who Bruce Lee was at the time. I had seen a few Shaw Brothers films before, but I didn't really care about them much at the time. 

        I walked into my parent's bedroom and I saw you destroying people in the alley behind the restaurant in Italy. I asked my dad "What is this?!" and my dad explained to me who you were. It was the middle of the movie so I left and ate so it could finish. Then, I went back in and watched it from the beginning. It is hard to say exactly what I felt. It is hard to explain all the questions I had in my head. How can a man move like that? How can a man fight like that? How can a man be so skinny, but so strong? How can a man be so good at beating people up but be so nice? None of those things had answers that satisfied my mind. 

         There was not much I could do about it either. The only thing I could do was to try and make some nunchucks. I immediately went downstairs and took a hacksaw to an old yellow broomstick and put my 9-year-old elite craftsman skills to work. A year or so before, I went to visit my older cousin Steve. He was a cool older dude who looked like one of the Jackson 5. While sitting in his living room, I saw an old metal chain (very small) sitting on his coffee table. I asked him for no reason if I could have it. He said yes. I had no idea what it would be used for. Once I saw you, Bruce, I knew it was meant to be the links between my sticks. I still thank my cousin Steve till this day for giving me that chain. Till this day, he does not even remember giving it to me. I hit myself 100 times the first day I made them. But I did not care. I kept going. I'm nowhere as good as you, but I still have enough to beat up some guys in an alley if I need to with nunchucks. 

           A few years later, I had a friend at Pacific Heights Jr. High named Jamal. He wanted to be a stuntman when he grew up. He was the first kid I remember that I knew, who loved you as much as I did. We used to jump and fall down hills and climb walls trying to be like you. In the 1980's there were spots in almost every major city called Kung Fu Shops. I don't know what they were really called. They sold ninja stars, nunchucks, knives, and all kinds of weapons. The one I knew of was around 25th and Mission in San Francisco. I went there more than a few times to get stars. I still have one somewhere at my parent house. I think it is nuts they sold that stuff to us. But I am glad they did.

          I loved your other movies as well, but none as much as Return of the Dragon. Nothing can ever recapture the wonder that exploded in my head and heart the first time I saw you. Years later when I got ready to be married, I came to study you again. I never realized the responsibility of a man to keep the house safe. At the same time, I did not want to own a gun. I was studying the stick fighting art of Escrima, but I was really bad at it. My friend taught me about Gracie Jiu-Jitsu and I learned as much as I could be based on as little as  I had access to. So many jiu-jitsu players are driven by your work ethic. So many people of all styles aspire to match the clarity in your movements. 

        For my birthday, I was given the Tao of Jeet Kune Do by a San Jose graff writer and my life was never, ever the same. I was already a rogue scholar of Eastern philosophy and history. But to see your ideas on paper. To see your sketches. To see your philosophies opened my head and my heart in ways that are still happening. Your work gave me moral courage. Your writings helped me be proud to be Black just as you were proud to be Chinese. Your willingness to train Black students and White students at a time when racial separation was so common pushed me to study other cultures more diligently. Every time I get ready to eat bad food I feel like I can hear you telling me to stay away from it, that it won't make me a better warrior. I read a lot about Chinese medicine and tea because of you till this day.  

       My book Bobby, Bruce & the Bronx: The Secrets of Hip-Hop Chess and my organization The Hip-Hop Chess Federation would not exist were it not for you. I recently spoke in Washington DC about you at the Kennedy Center. The entire community of Hip-Hop loves you. Thank you for making Hip-Hop better. So many rappers, DJ's, Bboys and Graff writers have worked to improve themselves because of your efforts. Your impact can be seen in the work of Public Enemy's S1W's to Wu-Tang Clan, Mixmaster Mike, Andre Nickatina and Dead Prez. So many Black people eat better because of you. So many Black people think better because of you. Thank you is such an insufficient phrase as a response to your contributions. I can only promise to champion the value of your work and to encourage others to embrace your ideas as much as I can. I started out so sad writing this. Right now though, I feel happy. I think I am happy because the ripple effect of your work is yet undone. I look forward to the joy and peace your work continues to inspire in my own life and others around the world. Much love always. Peace Bruce. 

Much Love,

Adisa Banjoko 

        

Oakland Rapper T-.K.A.S.H. Drops Supreme Leader!!

Rapper/Endurance Runner T-K.A.S.H compliments his new online release "Supreme Leader" by running in the 2017 San Francisco Marathon to raise awareness to Title IX rights for students in higher education.

For Immediate Release:

Bay Area rapper/endurance runner T-KASH has been active in the endurance running scene for several years now. 

This year, he is once again using his star power to bring awareness to community issues. His next running event, the San Francisco Marathon this Sunday, will serve as a platform to bring awareness for the need of maintaining Title IX rights for students with dependents on college campuses and beyond.

"It's a dear issue to me, my mother went back to city college while I was in high school, and I obtained my college degrees while raising kids", he explained. 

When asked why he waited until now to advocate for this specific time, he said, " The current socio-political climate could put the Department of Education and and Title IX rights for students at risk. I couldn't fathom doing nothing about that."

He is also acknowledging the ten year anniversary of the 2006 Guerrila Funk Recordings release "Turf War Syndrome", which has received countless accolades and solidified him as a globally recognized hip hop icon.

As with all of his previous running events, T-KASH will be sponsored by the Hip Hop Chess Federation, and wearing attire by fellow Oakland emcee Mistah Fab's "Dope Era" clothing line.

"Supreme Leader" by T-K.A.S.H. is now available online and can be found here.

https://soundcloud.com/tomie-lenear/sets/t-k-a-s-h-supreme-leader

Nonviolent Rap Song of the Week #2 Dead Homiez by Ice Cube

      Ice Cube was one of the most polarizing solo artists in Hip-Hop in the 1990's. 

Dead Homiez showed his softer side.

In the mission of HHCF to promote nonviolence and show the history of Hip-Hop as a nonviolent artform, we look at the work of the one and only Ice Cube from the Kill at Will EP. The song is one that served as a turning point for me as young Black male in America at the time.

My goal is to drop these every Monday and Friday. I will do all I can to hold to that. If you want to email me suggestions (though I cannot promise to honor everyone's request) hit me on twitter @hiphopchess !!

Rap had indeed taught me many different things by the time this song was released in 1990. I will do some more research, but I think it may be the first rap song looking into the psychology of HOW death affected what we were seeing on the streets of LA, NY, Chicago, Oakland and San Francisco.

I remember feeling like I had never ever felt like I felt when I heard this song. As suburban as I was, being in Hip-Hop, you just know people who are connected to the reality of the streets. One of my boys was a lightweight drug dealer. He and a friend were tied to the car seat his Cadillac and shot in the face with shotguns. This was a childhood friend.

Not long after, another friend shot himself in the head. He was a good friend and very skilled artist. But he came from the deep streets of LA. Word was he had killed someone who tried to kill him. It was self-defense he was never caught but it appeared that he could never recover from taking someone's life. One day, he just killed himself. No note, no sense of closure.

I never went to the funerals of either of them. I felt like a coward for not going. I still do. I never understood it. I used to play this song on repeat. The second verse always haunted me:

Another homie got murdered on a shakedown {3 gun shots}
And his mother is at the funeral, havin' a nervous breakdown
Two shots hit him in the face when they blasted {2 gun shots}
A framed picture and a closed casket
A single file line about 50 cars long
All driving slow with they lights on
He got a lot of flowers and a big wreath
What good is that when you're six feet deep?
I look at that shit and gotta think to myself

To me, this song opened the door for a lot of the others songs that come out of Hip-Hop that share the trauma of the victims, friends, and families of those who were front row to the Black death of the 80's and 90's. I'm not alone. Just look up the statistics online. Gun violence was as common as rainfall back then. It may even be worse now. I cannot tell and I'm not sure I actually want to know the answer.

Dead Homiez was a cleansing song as necessary as any Gospel song my granny would have played after her friends died. It may not have made sense to anyone else, who was not young and Black at that time. But I needed this song and all those like them.

WATCH: Dead Homiez by Ice Cube

Read the annotated lyrics to Dead Homiez at Rap Genius to soak in the wisdom. There is a parental advisory on this one. A few curse words are in the track. But I never saw it as gratuitous in nature.

To read more about nonviolence in Hip-Hop read Bobby, Bruce & the Bronx: The Secrets of Hip-Hop Chess in Amazon.com.

Nonviolent Rap Song of the Week #1 Live and Let Live by Souls of Mischief

HHCF has always been an advocate for nonviolence at it's root. We have spent more than a decade promoting peace through fusion of art an logic. It is in that undying spirit that we will post a song once a week that promotes peace and or share the impact of violence in urban communities.

We will post these uncensored (though many will not have curse words). The first song is one that I have always loved, Live and Let Live by Oakland icons Souls of Mischief from the mighty Hieroglyphics Crew. It came out in 1993. However, I will post rap songs from all eras of rap. This will not just be a look back, but a look at now- as we look forward.

Note these songs are chosen at random and are NOT a ranking, but simply a LIST of the songs about peace that permeate rap music. 

I will post a link to the lyrics so you can read along. It is important to soak in the idea that code switching is always at the root of a lot of rap. I cannot walk you through all of the slang in each song. I encourage you to use Rap Genius to help you get clear on certain words if you do not come from the rap world. Please use the annotation of the lyrics. 

However, the reality of Hip-Hop (and rap music specifically) as an art form celebrating peace above and beyond all other forms of mainstream music is part of what we aim to prove. This song contains curse words. Parental discretion is advised. 

Adisa Banjoko Interviewed on Culture Chat Podcast by Mimi Chan

                      L to R Evidence, Brother Ali, Adisa Banjoko Rakaa Iriscience backstage at
                                                    Greek Theater UC Berkeley

I recently got interviewed by Mimi Chan for the Culture Chat Podcast. I met her through one of my friends from the martial arts world Gene Ching. This was a great interview. Not because of me, but because of her. I hope you like it. We talked a lot about education and working with the youth. LISTEN HERE: https://www.culturechatpodcast.com/hiphopchess/

Hip-Hop Panel Discussion at Amoeba Music in Berkeley, Thus July 20th!!

This is going to be an amazing talk. Come through come one, come all!!!

Martial Arts and the Meaning of the Blind Master

Martial Arts and the Meaning of the Blind Master

One morning when I was about 4, I went to my parent's room to play with my father. I teased him about something to make him chase me and I bolted down the hallway. As soon as I cut right to hit the living room- BANG! I ran into the wall. I did not see the wall. My parents took me to the Dr. I needed glasses.

To say that I needed glasses was an understatement. I could barely see. Keep in mind this was in the 70’s when glasses were designed to be utilitarian, big clunky, hard, heavy plastic. I felt horrible inside. I was already super skinny. Twenty-pound glasses did not help. And I needed them, so, there was no faking it. To this day, I can only see about 7 inches past my nose.

Then I turned into the TV show called Kung Fu. I watched the main character be repeatedly bested and taught by an older, wiser man. The man was soft spoken, his name was  Po. Po changed my life forever.

When I first saw Gracie Jiu-Jitsu, I was moved by how small Helio, Carlos and his brother were. At the time, I was doing eskrima, a stick fighting art from the Philippines. I was horrible at it. But I loved it. My friend Jaime showed me some basics he learned from a videotape of jiu-jitsu and I was hooked. A few months later I signed up at Ralph Gracie’s in Mountain View. The thing that really drew me though was that I could grapple without wearing my glasses. Jiu-jitsu is super up close. I can see fine while ground fighting. It was one of the biggest things that drew me to the art. The idea that I could be like Po, truly dangerous, but kind.

Later, while training under Charles Gracie (Raph's brother) as a blue belt Charles would sometimes have us spar, blindfolded. We would start in the closed guard, but on our blindfolds and begin guard pass drills. As we would spar Charles would repeat to all of us "You must believe in your technique. You must believe in your jiu-jitsu." Every person felt like Charles was talking directly to them. It was a huge confidence builder. It was also the time I realized on a personal level that I did not need my eyes to defend myself.

I finally understood the work of the self-taught swordmaster and scholar, Miyamoto Musashi, when he wrote that one must be able to "perceive that which cannot be seen with the eye."

As I got into jiu-jitsu, Po’s image flickered in my brain. Over the years, I noticed that the idea of a blind fighter has a long history in film.

Then one day I went to Judo legend Willy Cahill’s in San Bruno, CA. He had an entire team that was blind. They were all devastating fighters. One of the main things I noticed, was that you could never rattle them with appearances or feints because they could feel the truth of your balance. His team is amazing. Many years ago I saw the dominate at the Titan Games in San Jose.

Today women like Jordan Mouton (a blind woman who has immaculate judo) inspire the blind and the sighted alike. Grandson of Helio Gracie,. Ralek Gracie, did an amazing short film on a blind man named Nathan Russell who trains jiu-jitsu at the Gracie Academy HQ in California

One day after teaching chess to a bunch of students at Cherryland Elementary in Hayward,  Dr. Itoco Garcia and I were talking casually. He mentioned his love for a show on Netflix called One Hundred Eyes. One Hundred Eyes is a character in the Marco Polo series. He too is blind. Until just this weekend I had forgotten about it and then I stumbled into it and I am late, super late, but loving it.

Over the years, movies like Zatoichi and the Chess Expert, or watching RZA as Snake Eyes in GI Joe Retaliation , always made me smile a little bit more. It was after seeing Donnie Yen play the character Chirrut Imwe that I got the deep childhood Po flashback. Be accident, or by design, this came off like an obvious homage to Po.

At least I thought it was. Talking to the LA Times Yen told the story:

“How Chirrut ended up being blind was a collaboration of me and Gareth. During the process, we were talking about different possibilities and he was asking my opinions. I said, “I want this character not to be so clichéd. I’ve played this character thousands of times — this type of bad-ass, skillful warrior hero. I want him to be grounded. I want him to be human, even vulnerable. Wouldn’t it be interesting to have him blind?” He liked the idea, Disney loved it — and Chirrut ended up being blind.”

I wish it was a little deeper than this. I wish I could interview him one day about that character. But if that is the story. In any case, I got the Po flashbacks from Rogue One. Beyond the story there is a bigger question.

Why are this blind characters a recurring thing in martial arts films? I don’t know. For me, I think the blind fighter is a symbol of an individual who is unmoved (like the judoka) by appearances. They are not lost in the height, weight, skin tone, flamboyant outfits, or religious symbols etc., worn by their opponent. The blind master can accept the true you and helps you to be better. The blind master is kind to all who approach.

May we all aspire to be like them in body, mind, and spirit.

Death to the Queen: Chess, Gender and Hip-Hop

Death to the Queen: Chess, Gender and Hip-Hop

                            Chess set from www.thechesspiece.com 

I was teaching a chess camp at Alameda County Juvenile Hall last week for my non-profit organization, the Hip-Hop Chess Federation.  The kids were mostly from Oakland, San Leandro, Hayward and other surrounding cities in the East Bay. Unlike last time, I did not get to work in the girls unit. The bulk of these boys were Black and Latino with a few Whites, or an Asian once in awhile (very rare). The teens housed here range between 14 or 15 to 18, but I think sometimes they can be a year or two older.

Last year I taught my Chess and Life Strategies class for a week during the Summer. They invite several arts education and non-traditional teachers to be with their youth. This is for the kids to take a break from their regular classes. It is a way for them to take a break, without stopping on their academic endeavors and lunching out. I really love the opportunity to do it.

Incarcerated kids though are a hard thing for me to engage these days. Don’t get me wrong, it is fun and rewarding. These kids are intelligent, funny, charismatic and creative souls. Some of them have made a small mistake. Others have made really big mistakes that they may not be able to come back from. All of them though have largely been abandoned in some way. Trapped between the pain of their broken families and the failure of so many American schools to effectively engage and educate them- they are alone on the unstable ground of fragmented systems. Any direction they step in makes the earth under their life jump like the needle on the Richter scale. Normally, the instability keeps them at a level 6.0- nothing to laugh at. If they end up in juve, their lives are locked in a 10.0 quake until their release. It’s like the needle it pinned to the top. It is almost impossible for them to hear, see, smell, touch or taste anything beyond their freedom. At the same time, because they are resistant to learning anything, almost any chance they get to be free they squander and soon return.

I had a great time last week. Amazing breakthroughs and connections. I gave lessons, I learned lessons. Most of all, I saw the brilliance of these boys. A lot of these kids are quick learners and on primal instinct alone are solid chess players. Based on the hunger of their hustle alone if these kids were coders, or taught technology they could be the next Google, Facebook or Apple. They would be more than just good workers at those companies. I call them the lost gold in the ghetto.

The day I left though, I saw something disturbing. It shook my soul to its core. In chess games in the hood, especially in the clink when one man loses a queen (the most valuable piece on the board) they will often refer to her as a hoe. The truth is, some of these boys as young as they are have dealt in pimping- or observed it in great detail. Their role models are legendary pimps like Iceberg Slim, Rosebudd and others.

However, what I noticed through the week was that if someone was playing black, and lost their queen they went out of their way to say how they did not care. “Nigga I don’t care if you took my Black queen. Fuck that Black bitch. I don’t even like her ass. Watch me get another  Black hoe quick, and I”mma make her work.” I personally observed conversations like that no less than 5 times that week.

On the last day, however, there was something else that happened. In what was undeniably the best game of the day, there was a crazy exchange between two boys. Like many other things that happen in a chess game, the situation revealed a lot about the psychologies beneath the surface of the individuals. After one boy, took another's queen he said “I got your Black bitch now” cackling like a happy hyena.” Now what you gonna do, nigga?”

“I don’t care about this ugly Black bitch,” his opponent said without reservation.

The first boy, playing White, picked up is Queen. “Now see, look at my girl. Her name is Brittany. No!! It is Sasha” he said now holding her in one hand and pretending to caress her with the other. He began to talk as if she was talking to the class. He spoke very proper, like a White valley girl from the suburbs. “Hi guys, I hope you are all doing well today.” He then went off deep into this character of how refined his White girl was. The entire one-man show was meant to show how worthless the Black Queen was. I was frozen in disbelief. The death of the black queen meant nothing to them.

Once I came up from my shock, I was torn on how to address it. When you are dealing with incarcerated kids you are often at the mercy of groupthink. Especially when you are first learning to work with them. It’s like you get a few window a of chance to impart  a lesson. If you try to do it outside of those windows, you hit walls.

Now, right before then I was walking to the break room there was a group of their teachers in the hall with me. One was a Black man, the other a Black women and a Latina. The Black man was talking about something that occurred during the class. During the course of their class, the Black man was asked if his girlfriend was Black. When he said no, all the Black boys in the class gave him a thumbs up. The Black woman said “I didn’t see that happen. That really bothers me.” I was bothered too.

When I was in my 20’s I read a book called The Isis Papers by Dr. Cress-Welsing. I was in love with her work. I was even lucky enough to see her speak and meet her briefly at UC Berkeley after a speech. Staring at the kids, words from the Isis Papers echoed in my mind talking about Black children it says “ Black children are our most valuable possession and our most valuable resource...Children are the only future of any people...If the children's lives are squandered, and if the children of a people are not fully developed at whatever the cost and sacrifice, the people will have consigned themselves to a certain death. They will be destroyed from without or from within- by the attack of their own children against them. And they may be destroyed by both.”

The beauty of Black women and girls has always been under attack on American soil. While never officially under attack on paper, Black love has always been illegal. The cycles through which the hatred of our skin, music, women, art, history- almost everything we make we hate.

The entire role that colorism (the debate around the superiority of beauty of Black women based on the darkness of pigment) is a product of the racism African Americans suffered during and after slavery. The TV show Blackish did a cool cartoon about Black colleges that dealt with it, a little but I could not find the clip online.

Today rap artists like Kodak Black, and hoopers Gilbert Arenas, and Kyrie Irving are just a few “stars” that openly attack the beauty and grace of Black women. I know people of all races that chose to be with someone of another race. That is not really the issue. Nobody advertises his hatred for his own woman like Black men do. Maybe I’m just more aware of it. Maybe it was always like this.

Earlier this year I spoke with a young brother I know in high school. He has locks, medium brown skin- clearly Black. No question. He never dates Black women and openly tells people how much he refuses to date Black girls. One day I asked him how he could not date Black women when he came through the womb of a Black woman. “If your dad thought like you think, you would not exist. We would not even be having this conversation right now” I chuckled. He looked up to the sky for a few seconds and said “But my mom is not ghetto though.”.

“Ok then, ‘ghettoness’ is its own thing then. That is separate from Blackness, right?” He nodded.

Asa Hilliard once wrote “Mental bondage is invisible violence. Formal physical slavery has ended in the United States. Mental slavery continues to the present day. This slavery affects the minds of all people, and in one way is worse than the physical slavery alone. That is, the person who is in mental bondage will be ‘self contained’. Not only will that person fail to challenge the beliefs and patterns of thought which control him, he will defend and protect those beliefs and patterns virtually with his last dying effort.”

What we see here, from these incarcerated boys, from many of the rappers and the pro athletes is exactly the self contained slavery identified by Asa Hilliard. As a father of Black daughters and a teacher of teen girls I find this extremely alarming. Trapped in situations like this on the inside, and the kids killing one another and others dying from police violence outside- without love between our people, our children, our sons and our daughters what is left?

This is not an essay even attempting to answer the question. Because I am sure there are many different answers we can find collectively.  I’m just thinking out loud. What possible good can exist in a Black future where the children don’t like- let alone love one another? Only time will tell.

Defend the Crown,

Adisa Banjoko