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

HHCF Juvenile Hall Diary Day 4!!

As I came in on Thursday, I had a lot swimming in my mind. I was thinking about the kid I kicked out. As per my personal rules, if I kick a kid out, he is out the day after. I was contemplating keeping him out for the week.

About 20 years ago, I was studying Confucianism thanks to an old Native American friend (he also introduced me to the beauty of sushi). A scholar from the Ming Dynasty wrote at the time “To go too far, is just as bad is not going far enough.” Was it unjust to keep him out? Was it being weak to let him in given the chances of him coming back with disruption on his mind. He was charismatic. The kids in the hall could follow him.

I checked into the building in a slight haze. As I got in they informed me that today was the last day. I had mistakenly thought it went all week like last years camp. It was not like last year. It rattled me more than I thought. I had plans for them on Friday and now, it was NOT to be.

One of the weirder things about jails and juvenile halls is the sterile nature of the place. The fluorescent lights, peanut butter walls, white walls- they numb you out. Kinda depressing, I can't lie.

So, I came in and I just wrote something on the board:

KING= Your goal.

Strategy= What tools (pieces) will you need to make it happen?

Checkmate= You win/ Victory!

They read it as they came in ready to go. I shook their hand as they entered. The energy was upbeat.

“This is my last day y’all. I did not plan for it to be like this. I thought I would be here till Friday- but I’m out. So, rather than get caught up with a lot of philosophy, let me just say that I loved being with you guys. I don’t know if any of this will stick but I hope you liked learning from me and I hope you liked the games you played.”

They were all sad. “ Aww man that’s weak.” one of them said.

“ I know, but look. Let me just run through some for attack strategies and lets jump on the boards. The main thing I want you to know is you are all brilliant. Your wisdom is not the issue. You are all brilliant. I just want you to get out, stay out and live well.”

We went over knight for puzzles. I was a stickler for ensuring they answered everything algebraic notation. They did it. Then we jumped into some games. It was fantastic.

One Latino student who I taught some moves to, who beat me after I gave him some pointers had blood in his eyes when he sat at the board. We went hard. I got him 3 games straight. He smiled at the end of class and was like. I’m gonna get you tomorrow” smiling wide as we shook hands.

A kid standing behind me said “He’s not coming back it's over.”

His smile went away and he shook his head. You could tell he was running some internal dialogue.

“These were great games man. Great games” I said.

After my break I went into the next class. I wallked in a little early. My classroom was not open. I stood in the pod looking around. One of the kids rooms was dark (they choose if they want their light on or not). In the blackness of the room and glare of the window I could see two eyes lasered in on my face. It was one of my students. He saw me see him inside the darkness. I smiled and nodded. Gave him two thumbs up. He smiled and nodded back. It started to bother me that he was in a cage. That he was in a cage and could still smile, gave me an odd sense of hope though. I’m still not sure what it was all meaning to me.

As I greeted them, the boy who I had issues with walked in. Head up, super proud. I greeted him and shook his hand. He shook my hand but his eyes were emotionally cold. I could tell though that the sincerity of my smile and energy of my greeting caught him off guard.

I quickly told them this was the last day. I was giving some final motivational words. The SAME kid who I just let back in was talking. I politely asked him to stop once, then twice. The third time I turned to him and approached his desk.  

“Come on man” I asked in a pain inflicted tone. “You just got back. I’m chillin’. You know it’s my last day. Are you really going to do this right now. You’re just gonna come in knowing it’s my last day and cool out in the back of the room talking with you boy? Why would you do that?

Before he could respond the kid who I smiled at through the blackness cut in.

“You gotta forgive him. He does not understand plain words. You gotta look at him in his eyes and be like ‘N*** SHUT THE F*** UP!’ a he will chill out.”

The room chuckled, and the kid continued. “Nah seriously, you know how when kids are born their heads are shaped bad. He’s one of those. You gotta massage his head and form it so he can hear you.” More snickers came out across the room.

I looked at Tats and I said “Is that what I gotta do? Help me understand. Because I feel like you are totally disrespecting me right now- and I don’t get it.”

Tats smiled a sincere smile. He said “Look I don’t mean any disrespect to any teacher. Especially to any OG. I respect you OG. I do. I respect all the teachers here.”

Then in a millisecond his face changed. He looked up at the lights and it seemed like he was no longer talking to me. It was like he was standing in the room looking back at himself “At the same time, I’m a man too OG. I’m a man!” he cried out in passion- not anger. “I do my push-ups in the room. I do my crunches. I do my jumping backs. I’m kinda small but I’m gettin bigger. I’m a man.” The guys in the room fell out laughing. Their laughter took him out of his trance. He smiled and laughed a little too. “I know I sound crazy. But I’m serious though.”

I realized in that moment that his issues were not really with me. His issue was he was torn between the boy who was evaporating and the man who was emerging. He was unsure if I told him to be quiet and he did it- was he being weak in a space where being weak made you a target?

“OK. I respect you as a man” said without hesitation. “But I don’t feel like we need to get all into it just to get through a class. These guys are trying to learn too. When you interrrupt, you are taking away from their time, and your time. That’s all I’m saying” I stated with a slight shrug of the shoulders and my palms turned up to the ceiling.

“I got you OG. I’m chillin’” he said sitting back and nodding.

The class went onto to be the best of the week. He played in the best game of the week. It see sawed back and forth between he and another kid. In the end he lost but the game was so epic the whole room was laughing and joking and yelling.

Turns out, Tats was a incredible rapper and dropped some heavy verses before class was out. He shook my hand before he went back to his cell. The kids were all wishing I could come back. I feel the sting of it too. But that class was amazing.

As one kid was goig out the door he said “Can I make money playing chess?”

“No lil bro. No. You want to use the game to build your plan for your LIFE and push hard that way. Then you will get paid. But you have to stay on the boards to really see the levels. You understand?” He nodded and smiled.

The highlight of the last class was with a kid who I knew trained in jiu-jitsu and meditation with a good friend of mine. Apparently a kid from my first class had a problem with him. I heard talk about them possibly getting physical. This kid and I played several games all week. This day we did not. As class was letting out and I was saying goodbye I pulled him aside.

I pointed to the thing on the board about the king, the pieces and the victory. I said “Look, you know I don’t know you that well. But I know your instructor and he would not want you figthing right now. He would want you going back to your room and meditating. He would want you in your room exercising. He would want you to think through this. For me, when I look at you. Your king is FREEDOM. I don’t know what that kid did. But nothing he said, is more important than getting out. Unless he is actively on you trying to harm you- keep it peaceful. Because anything you do is going to get you more time. Don’t give the courts one more second than you have to. Get free and then me, you and your instructor can go train and get some sandwiches and chill. Wouldn’t that be better than being in here?”

He nodded. “OK….OK.” in a tone that told me for the moment he was convinced nonviolence was the best way out. I called his instructor and told him what happened as I left.

Oh! I gotta say there were 4 different rap sessions I saw in the hall. One was from a kid who did not know chess. By the end of the week he did an amazing freestyle about chess and life. He said that he was so confused by the game and he never thought he could learn. I promised him he would know the game and he thanked me for keeping my word.

There was the rap session with the Tats who I just mentioned. It was truly amazing.

Another dope moment was a kid handed me a copy of a song he wrote. It is super deep and covered a lot of painful issues around his incarceration, broken family trauma and loniness he faces. I hope to share it with you in the future. But I have to get some clearances before I can.

Also, the first day  when I asked who could rap they all pointed to this White kid. He was the only White kid in the hall that day ( a few more came in the day I left- it was all Black and Brown). He had bright green eyes and slicked back hair. The verse he did blew my mind. He was getting out that day. This afternoon he reached out to me on Instagram. I’m gonna try to get him to record a song.

I want to thank you all for taking the time to read this and I want to thank all the good people at the Alameda County Juvenile Center for their kindness and support. I want to thank all the JIO’s for their support when I’m in all the units. It is always and honor for me to spend time with incarcerated kids. Much love y’all.

Defend The Crown,

Adisa

HHCF Juvenile Hall Diary Day 2 and 3!!!

HHCF Juvenile Hall Diary Day 2 & 3

OK, so my second day I go in and things get real intense, real fast. The kid with the tats who I played and tried to connect with came in tripping. One of the things about the hall is that things happen there that you don’t know about and cannot control. So even if you come in super positive the internal power struggles between the kids, staff and the kids within themselves can make things volotile.

He came in with another kid and though they were in my room there doing what I call “The ostrich thing.” That is when they pull their sweater over their head and put their head on their desk. I don’t tolerate that kinda activity.

I asked them to chill and show respect to the lesson and the time I’m sharing with them. Both sat back up. Later, he starts talking to his boy about street drama and his case. I remind him he needs to quiet up. He starts poppin’ off dropping n-bombs and stuff. I just calmly walked over to the door and had the JIO ‘s (like a CO for juve) come take him out. He was pretty negative on the way out, but the rest of the class was chill.

The rest of the DAY was chill to be honest. I must say though that the peanut butter colored walls and fluorescent lighting really messes with your sense of internal peace. We worked on how to use your rooks together and I showed them the famous Opera House Massacre game by Morphy and talked about the importance of consistence. “What is the queen sacrifice of your life? How seriously are you taking yourself, and your actions irrespective of who you think is ‘hating’ on you?”

They got it. The gaming that day was super positive and fun.

I had some great games with the kids who I played soft the day before. It was a nail biter from front to back.

Day 3

When came in the hall I had my first thoughts ready to go. The kids came in super positive. I told the JIO’s that I would not be taking the kid who was disrespectful from the day before. I opened by giving them some hard, straight talk to realign their collective purpose.

I wrote in huge letters on the whiteboard: INTELLIGENCE WITHOUT DISCIPLINE IS A CURSE!!!

I reminded them that I chose to be there. “ I struggled with drinking and I did a lot of stupid things in high school, but I never got caught” I told them. “ I dropped out, I had to teach myself the bulk of everything I’m doing today. But I need you to respect my time. If you are not interested in living better than you are, go back to your room.” I let the last sentence hang in the air to emphasize my seriousness.

“You know, between the games I hear you all talking about how the streets love you. How the block has your back. But when I come in the morning, I don’t see any of them in line to see you. Nobody is checking to kick it with you. Where all that hood love at?! I don’t see it” I spat defiantly. You should have seen their eyes. They were staring me down with a lot of raw emotion.

“We can’t have friends here. Only family!” one of the boys snapped back.

Before I could respond a JIO in the room with a voice like Barry White yelled out “So what?! Where y’all letters at? Ain’t nobody writing y’all. Keep it real! Nobody checkin’ for you.” Then he looked at me and nodded.

“The hood ain’t missing you. The block don’t miss you. The block don’t miss me. None of us are special and when we are gone, it keeps going on. My point of saying this is not to hurt your feelings. My point is to ask if that is a fact, why do some of you come into my class and waste my time and my knowledge and wisdom that I am trying to bring to you.?!” I was not yelling, but there was what Bruce Lee would call “emotional content”.

“For the rest of your life, it is unlikely that you gonna meet someone that knew Pac, knew The Jacka, knew Eazy and saw some of the greatest to ever do it- do their thing.” I was wearing a college sweatshirt. I pulled on the shirt at the shoulders and said “These colleges I speak at, I taught myself everything I speak on. I guest lecture there because of all the reading I did. All the hours I put in to get that knowledge. I bring it to you from a place of love because I know you don’t understand everything waiting for you outside.”

I paused to let that sink in.

“Most of you don’t even understand how you got here. I can tell you a little bit of how it happened. In 1967 the FBI rolled out to programs. One was called BLACKPRO and the other was called COINTELPRO. Both were aimed at undermiing Black leadership coast to coast. They had an army of 3,000 informants.”

Now before this keep in mind that J. Edgar Hoover, one of the early heads of the FBI was trying to get Black people to take heroin. But Blacks at the time did not like needles. This was back when most of your grandparents were young. In the 80’s White middle class and rich kids did cocaine powder- but Blacks did crack. Whites got short sentences for powder. Many Blacks and Latinos did life for crack.”

“Today, you kids are all taking syrup. Codeine, promethazine, percocet, etc. All of them are opiates- liquid heroin. You are living the dream that Hoover wanted for your grandparents.”

One of the kids interrupted me. “Stop talking about syrup so much. I want some right now.” a boy confessed without reservation. Despite being under 16 his favorite drink is percocets dissolved in Patron. So scary.

“Look” I continued “The closer you are to those drugs, the closer you are to making a mistake that will get you locked up. It is not an accident. Y’all are kids. Alcohol is illegal right? So how is it that billion dollar pharmaceutical companies are able to lose all this top grade syrup and it just happens to be available for cheap in your hood? How is it for sale by your homies at school. Because it is not an accident.”

I pointed to the a digital display of a chessboard. Right now, in the game of life, you are all in check. It is almost over for you. I hope you realize the seriousness of the times you are living in.” By now the room was pretty silent.

“What is the good thing about being in check though?” I asked the strongest Latino chess player.

“He nodded as he spoke to the class “There is still a way out.”

“EXACTLY!.I cried out. “ Exactly. There is still a way out. That is the blessing. I’m telling you now. Stay sober, study, play this game and find your way out. Let me do that for you. The game ain’t over. You can win this, but let me help you.”

From there we went into studying knights. The games were amazing. The one who admitted his addiction played the hardest and came a long way. Monday he did not know the how the pieces moved. Today he was losing, but he was checking people and growing with the game.

I lost a game to a kid after a foolish exchange. Tomorrow, I'm gonna go super hard. These kids are brilliant.

I took some photos of some of the games that got played. I cannot take pics of their faces. But you see the high cognitive function of the kids. A lot of these teens are considered ADD or ADHD. But look at the high level cognitive function happening. Kids this smart should be recruited by Google, Microsoft, Facebook, Twitter and Oracle. They don’t need to hire folks from Asia, India, Africa and China. They can go to NY, LA, Chicago and St. Louis and raise American minds to do this work. Fantastic American genius is being abandoned everyday simply because they were born Black, Brown or poor. Our technology companies need to take big steps to fix this.

I love these moments. I love these opportunities and I thank you for taking the time to read this blog.

PARENTS: Below is a huge song called “Mask Off” by Future that openly promotes the use of “molly” percocets and other opiates to our kids. This style is called Trap Music. The trap is, that if the kids soak in songs like these it leads them to the trap of addiction. I love Hip-Hop. But old school music always had a balanced dialogue. All the popular music on the radio and TV these days is sadly in this vein. Peep the beauty of the melody. IT is an amazingly well produced track. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Future was hired by Hoover.