ap2 photography

Closure

Steven C. Anderson

Mortal Man

Closure

By: Steven C. Anderson

Can you ever truly get closure?

July 6, 1974 - 6 years before I was born, my uncle Cedric was murdered. The details of his death, almost 40 years ago are still unclear. All I recall being told is where he was found. His body was found in Allen Park near the old Veterans Administration Hospital. He was shot in the head and left to die. At the time, the news reported it as a John Doe. The fact that his name was never mentioned always bothered my mother. Even today, when a death is reported as unidentified or “John Doe” it strikes a nerve because as she puts it; “that’s someone’s son, daughter, mother, or father.” Growing up we were always told, “someone needs to know where you’re at.” Back then, it seemed extreme but as an adult it makes all the sense in the world. How do you not have a little PTSD after losing your brother? A brother that was a few months away from fatherhood being taken away so violently before his baby girl was born. A daughter who would now grow up never knowing her father. Living this experience through stories and a few photos has always been “different” but it’s especially close to my heart because his name “Cedric” is my middle name. Most people don’t use their middle name often, but I’ve always made it a point to use mine as a connection.    

Late March 1997, I lost another uncle. This time it wasn’t violence but lung cancer. My uncle Sonny was one of the coolest dudes around. Everyone in the neighborhood loved and admired him. He loved sports, loved people, but above all, loved his family. He was a big baseball fan and would always take us down to the old Tiger Stadium to sit in the bleachers. He was diagnosed with lung cancer around 1994 or 1995. This was a shock to everyone because he wasn’t a smoker. He went through a few rounds of chemo therapy but seemed to be coming out on the other side of it.

I was only 16 at the time and I knew something was going on with his health but didn’t really know it was cancer. I knew it was serious when he showed up with a bald head. He always had fairly long dreadlocks so that was a reality shock to everyone. His brother (my uncle) decided to shave his head in support… “more on him later.”  Back in ’97, we didn’t have google so I kind of had to piece the seriousness of his illness together on my own. In early ’97 his health started to fade, he was hospitalized a lot. I had just got my full driver’s license and the first time my parents allowed me to drive a car alone without an adult was to visit him in the hospital. Although I knew he was sick seeing him in a hospital bed withering away made it real. But through it all he always wanted to talk about sports and particularly how I was doing in baseball. His first question to me was always “have you been wearing those ankle weights on your wrists?” And “are you playing in your glasses?” I didn’t even think my glasses did anything for me back then but looking back I really couldn’t see. Who knows how much better I’d have been if I did wear those glasses. 

Easter was approaching and he was still fighting. Our high school baseball team was scheduled to travel to Florida for Spring Training over Easter vacation. It was a trip I’d really been looking forward to taking. We were going for training but there was a lot of fun planned too. We were staying and playing at the Disney Wide World of Sports. It wasn’t even open yet, we were going to be a part of the inaugural training season. About three weeks before we were set to leave my uncle was placed in hospice. I learned this from overhearing adult conversation. Again, 1997 - no smart phone, no google, I had no idea what hospice was but I knew it couldn’t be good because he was leaving the hospital. Why would someone so sick leave the hospital? He still fought until he couldn’t. Two days before we were set to travel he passed. I was hurt. I really looked forward to talking to him about playing at Disney in the Atlanta Braves spring training stadium. The next few days were a fog so I don’t even remember when or how the decision was made that I would go to Florida and miss the funeral. I remember my parents sitting me down and explaining that the funeral would be during the time I would be gone. I did travel with the team and for the most part had a really good time. This was pre-social media and back when long distance calls were expensive so I didn’t have a lot of contact with anyone back home. I did call home from a pay phone at Disney the day of the funeral. Everyone seemed to be doing fine but it was strange not being there with my family. Looking back I don’t regret not being at the funeral. He was so sick for so long that I had time to say my goodbyes and reflect on our relationship. It’s just one of those things… when we think of a loved one that has passed away typically the memories of the funeral come to mind. Again, it was “different” not having that memory.

Steve-6.jpg

Labor Day 2007 was approaching and no one had heard from my uncle Carlton. That was strange because he always popped up on holidays. He would always swing by and drop off a gift or a dish. We were kind of worried but figured maybe he went on vacation. After a few days without contact a missing persons report was filed. We were in contact with the police department and they didn’t suspect any foul play. On Labor Day evening a detective came over and told us that they found a body but couldn’t make a positive ID. They needed my family to come down to the medical examiner to see if an ID could be made. My mom, uncle and aunts went but couldn’t make a decision. It wasn’t like on TV, where they pull a sheet back and you say “yes” or “no.”  They put you in a room with a small crappy black and white monitor. Out of five people none could definitively say that was him. The next day the detectives were able to make appositive ID using his clothes and a tattoo that could still be made out. He had been stabbed multiple times and found dead in a vacant field. The temperature was so hot that his body had started to decompose. 

Steve-24.jpg

There were no leads, no suspects and no motive. Even now, 12 years later we are no closer to getting justice. He had no enemies, no beefs, and no ill will toward anyone. His car was found a block away from the crime with his blood in it. He was in the area because he had purchased a home and was in the process of renovating it. He wasn’t robbed, just stabbed in his car and left to die. To us this was the definition of senseless. He was the type of person that would give you the clothes off of his back. He was honorably discharged from the US Marines, lived in San Diego for a few years, but ultimately returned home to be closer to his family. He had started a career at Chrysler and kept a low profile. He took pride in his home and neighborhood. He was the type of person that would cut his neighbors grass if he saw that it needed to be done. This was the same uncle that shaved his head in support of his brother Cedric that was going through chemo. The circumstances of his death caused us to have a closed casket funeral. At the time I didn’t think anything of that, but as I look back - that along with the losses of my other uncles has had an effect on me. 

Looking back, losing three uncles, “all brothers” left me with a ton of “what ifs” and questions. I always felt as though I didn’t get true closure in one way or another with any of the three deaths. As I grow older my outlook on that has changed. We often use birthdays as a way to celebrate the beginning and we use funerals to celebrate at the end. I’m learning to celebrate the journey. I’m determined to live my life to the fullest while I’m here because memories truly last a lifetime.

 

Closure

By Steven C. Anderson

Son | Husband | Brother | Photographer | Owner of Upscale Photography

You can keep up with Steve on social media.

instagram: @stevencanderson

twitter: @stevencanderson

facebook: Steven C. Anderson

visit his website: upscalephotos.net

Makings of a Man

Makings of a Man

Mortal Man

Makings of a Man

By: Al Harden

I wrote a book for my sons called SONSCAPE “available here on amazon.” Within the book there’s a (Legacy) page in which I wrote “I love you and I'm sure my father loves me and his father loved him. I left a particular Legacy for you I'm not proud of. It wasn't intentional but it was something I could not stop. The role I played in this endeavor was part of the harassed, denounced and deprived.  Unfortunately you may continue to encounter these issues. I wish I could stop this maltreatment but I do not know how. So I attempt to teach you how to survive in this climate exactly how I have been able to survive, and my father, and his father.”

Reflecting on that passage there are many people who have given me wisdom and advice and people that I look up to like my father Joe Harden where I learned discipline and unconditional love. My step father Charles Hooper where I learned patience and the value of trying new things in order to challenge myself. However in order to truly understand where I am today I’ll have to tell you about my grandfather Charles Woods whom I affectionately called (Papap). He set the foundation for me to build my life and to raise my family.

Al Harden-1.jpg

Papap taught by example. He worked in a foundry every weekday and would work on the farm when he got off of work as well as on weekends. He taught me the importance of having a strong work ethic as well as making time to do things that I enjoyed. We would work around the house together and also pick grapes and doing other jobs around the orchard. Papap and I would get into just about everything!

My grandfather and I would drive around in his old truck going here and there. We would often stop and do things for people he knew as well as for strangers. Papap would also take me around to go visit with his friends.  We would do “drive-bys.” Papap would drive by poking his head out of the truck’s window to say ”hey, how are you doing?” That was his way of checking in on people.

Al Harden-6.jpg

When I started working at the age of 14 Papap would drive me to work “ensuring that I got there in plenty enough time.” Papap was my second business partner, my first was my brother Charles Harden. We walked around peddling little nuts that fell off the trees. My brothers and I had no takers and never sold anything, however we were able to make a jar full of pennies worth about $19 when we found a missing cat.

I had a hobby of raising rabbits, “at one point I had probably close to 60 of them.” Papap and I would always stop and get rabbit food and other supplies during our adventures. One day he asked me to bring him five rabbits, “he didn't tell me why but it didn't matter - as a dutiful grandson I carried out his wishes.” Then he told me to get him a short 2x4. Once I complied he proceeded to butcher the rabbits/pets and I was shocked - my eyes filled with tears. There was one rabbit left alive which was one of my favorites so I asked if I could take that one back and go get another one. Papap agreed so I took a stroll down death row to see who was next.  It felt as though I took forever but I returned with another rabbit. He then instructed me to get a pot with water, then a little later to get some salt. My next order was to go get some plastic bags and get in the truck. 

Al Harden-9.jpg

There was complete silence while I was riding in the truck with these five butchered and dressed pets. We pulled up to his friends house and they exchanged pleasantries while I sat on the passenger side in complete silence. Papap handed his friend the rabbits and his friend gave him $20 which my grandfather passed along to me. My eyes opened wide and a smile even invaded my face. That was the official start of my new rabbit farming business!

Papap loved his wife “my grandmother” who unfortunately passed before I was born. My grandmother did however have the opportunity to give me my name before she passed. Papap was no nonsense. He fiercely defended his family, John Wick II comes to mind but Papap’s dogs would bite! “thats another story.”

Al Harden-8.jpg

When I joined the Marine Corps Papap was the first person to tell me how proud he was of me. When I came back home he was definitely proud and happy to see me. We hopped right back in his truck and started making our rounds visiting family and friends.

As a man you learn to take little bits and pieces from everyone in your life and use them to help weave your way through life. Even to this day I’m comprehending lessons that Papap and others taught me years ago that I wasn’t able to grasp when I was younger.

 
Al Harden-2.jpg

Makings of a Man

By: Al Harden

Son | Father | Husband | Artist | Fine Art Photographer | Veteran | Fire Specialist

- Keep up with Al on facebook.

- instagram @al_harden

- Al’s book: SONSCAPE is available on amazon.

Brotherhood

Frederick L. Cox

Mortal Man

Brotherhood

By: Frederick Leon Cox

FIRST of all, SERVANTS of all, we shall TRANSCEND all.
— Alpha Phi Alpha

I have always felt a sense of loneliness. For many who know me, they wouldn’t believe that. I was raised with multiple siblings, two older (by 5 and 7 years) and three younger (6-10 years), seemingly a big family but I always felt alone. When I heard J Cole’s Middle Child lyric, “Dead in the middle of two generations. I’m little bro and big bro all at once”, I felt that in my spirit. In my family, I always wished I had a roll dog. Someone close to my age that I would ride for and they would return the loyalty. With so many people around, I felt awkward, it caused me to isolate myself. 

As I transitioned throughout grade school, my personality made me one of the most social people in the room. While it was natural for me to be extroverted, there are multiple memories of feeling like the most awkward person in the room. I attended an Arts high school where I majored in theatre. From a very early space, I learned to be comfortable being laughed at, and to shake it off as if I wasn’t bothered. Graduating high school I received the superlative Mr. Stivers High School, an individual that exemplified the most high school spirit. It was proof that I knew how to wear the mask well. 

_AP28879.jpg

I then matriculated to the University of Dayton, at that point the institution was no more than 3% black and so the feeling of isolation met me at the front door. It didn’t take me long to realize that I may need to leave the institution. I had two friends that felt similar and instantly we began discussing Greek Life. As I considered which organization would best suit me, I realized that I identified with Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc., more than any other. Not only was I inspired by the history, but the intellectual brothers that helped shaped black ideology confirmed that I would be in good company. The lack of black students at the university made the idea of joining a Historically black fraternity seem like the answer to all my challenges at the time. Not only would I have the opportunity to bond with over 200,000 Black men all over the world, but I would be able to travel to other universities to make my college experience larger than what I was currently being offered. In short, those feelings of isolation would end. 

On March 7th, 2009, I joined the best fraternity in the entire world. It didn’t take long for me to become a recognizable Alpha in the area. I soon ran for statewide, regional, and national positions within the fraternity. I tried to get to know every Alpha I could and I traveled to support brothers as much as possible. Striving to be the best Alpha made me feel like I was truly living the mission of our fraternity. I met some of the strongest, forward thinking, family centered men that I had ever known. Needless to say, I had no regrets. Years after college, I not only remained active but as exuberant as I was the day in which I became a member. Two months ago I celebrated 10 years within the fold and as I look back at my experience, I realize that I have returned back to that space of isolation. But how? My dream came true, I was a member of a leading Black Male organization with tons of connections.

_AP28850.jpg

I began therapy to look more into this. As I explained my circumstance, I was guided to understand that isolation was centered in my genuine friendships with other Black men. I thought about how my entire life I was able to create strong and affirming relationships with black women but was missing that with my black male peers. Examining my relationships with the black males in my family, it became clear that they weren’t as strong either (four brothers not close to me in age and a father that I had yet to build an authentic relationship with). Specifically in the context of Alpha, I pledged with the hopes of building relationships, but I spent the majority of my time working to serve the organization rather than sitting back and building relationships with my brothers inside. Therapy helped me realize that in my friendships with men, I compete. Rather than sharing and supporting, I fight for leadership roles and often isolate myself from the general experience.

That was tough pill to swallow.

Alpha Man

As I approach my 30s, I realize that I don’t just need to passively be part of a brotherhood and directly invested in the business. I realized that I am complicit in my own isolation. I was so focused on leading the brotherhood that I hadn’t taken the time to focus on what I truly needed with the group. This even allowed me to think about the ways I was complicit in my surface relationships with men within my family. I joined Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Incorporated to be part of brotherhood of back men. Black men bonded by their vulnerabilities, not just their professional acumen. If that was what I wanted, I would need to focus on being more vulnerable and judging the actions of others less. Most importantly, I realize that my contributions to the fold isn’t solely based on leadership roles but my ability to truly be my brother’s keeper.


I shared this story because what I gained from this fraternity was reality that brotherhood is an exchange and not just shared space. As I continue on my journey to build healthy relationships with black male peers, I’m able to consider the roles I play. These next few years will be filled with apologies, listening, sharing, asking questions and taking on intentional leadership roles that feed my needs. Brotherhood is no longer something I long for, it’s something that I am an active agent in creating. 

Frederick Leon Cox
Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. develops leaders, promotes brotherhood and academic excellence, while providing service and advocacy for our communities.
_AP28873.jpg

Brotherhood

By: Frederick Leon Cox

Son | Brother | Uncle | Godfather | Alpha

Be sure to keep up with Fred on social media:

Instagram: @coxfredl

Facebook: Frederick Leon Cox

The Game of Life

xcover2.jpg

Mortal Man

The Game of Life

By: Cleavon (Proph3ssorX) Matthews Jr.

Mortal: 1.) That must die at sometime 2.) Of man as a being who must die 3.) Causing death of the body and or soul 4.) Lasting until death  5.) Very great; Extreme

Man: Noun- 1) An adult, male human being 2) Any human being; Person 3) The human race 4) Human Servant 5) A husband 6) Any piece used in a game. Verb- 1) to supply with people for work, defense ect. 2) To take one’s place at on, or in 3) To make oneself stronger or braver  Suffix- 1) A person of a certain country 2) A person doing a certain work 3) A person who uses or works some device.

black man blues-046.jpg

When we are young we wish to be old. When we become old we seek our youth; however, it is when we mature that we learn to appreciate each moment that makes up this thing called life. Any and every human being will encounter struggles, even without them the scales of life are not the easiest to balance. Yet, there is only one fact that remains no matter who you are or what you do; there must come a time where all living things must die. So what will you do with the time you have here? Do you get consumed in your ego and drown? Have you allowed defeat to get the last laugh? Or did you overcome that in which seemed impossible?  Did you hide in shame of guilt or did you share your story so that one day when met with the same challenges as you someone else can know that they too can make it? Or did you just share in order to boast?

black man blues-048.jpg

With that being said.

What are you willing to die for?

Better yet, What are you living for?

The games life plays can you deal with it?

The constant repenting and sinning cause we all fall short

It's not the trip but how you recovered the slip

When times get rough did you just dip?

What work did you supply?

Whom did you serve?

What legacy did you leave?

What marks did you achieve?

If none then I respect you still

It can’t be an office without the real people in the field

So I salute you

Your value isn’t placed in a bank account and possessions

But the opportunities to learn lessons

Protect yourself at all times realize

Sometimes the tricks are only in your mind

Don’t forget to be kind
No matter what country you are in don’t miss the chance to meet a friend

share a bit of time to admire each others works

Growing stronger and braver together in order to take our rightful place.

Understanding we are apart of one race.

Clipping dying buds blooming bountiful blossoms of bliss

We are more than just husbands, sons, brothers, uncles, cousins, friends, we can not be bound to our professions and the ideals impressed upon us by society

We carry the seed of life

Molded by Mistakes

Made through Mishaps

Manifested outta Misery

Mounted on the shoulders of those who has come before us

Mortal men we are

Monuments to love

UnMeasured and Magnified

Mortal Men are We

 
black man blues-044.jpg

The Game of Life

Cleavon (Proph3ssorX) Matthews Jr.

Human | Artist | Writer | Teacher | Culture Critique

Cleavon is my friend that collaborated with me at my (The Way I See It) photography exhibit. Our conversations on life helped plant the seed for me to start the Mortal Man project.

You can keep up with him on social media at:

Instagram: @proph3ssorx

Twitter: @prophessorx

The Comeback Kid

Ryan Reese

Mortal Man

The Comeback Kid

By: Ryan Reese

I grew up with a ball in my hand. From the time I was three years old I have played at least one sport per season. My love for sports has been a place where I have gotten most of my accolades, praise and accomplishments. Things were not quite this way in school or in the classroom. I battled being one of few black students at my school so I often felt like I was the target of criticism, discipline, and shame. Not to mention my stubborn spirit to dig in my heels, this behavior usually landed me in trouble at home and at school.

All throughout my years in school, I was the biggest or one of the biggest kids in the school. This made it easy for everyone in school to know exactly who I was. I would joke with my mother and say, “if something goes on they’ll just blame it on me The Big Black Guy!” That was my light hearted way of dealing with the systematic racism that I didn’t understand at the time.

_AP28754.jpg
The dream I wanted was so close but I could feel it slipping away from me rapidly.

As the years continued to pass by I was put out of a predominately white elementary school twice. I turned 13 that summer right before starting Middle School. My mother and I had discussed in great lengths that this was an opportunity for me to have a fresh start in a new school system. I’d also finally get to go to the same school as some of my friends and teammates. All my friends were good athletes too, we played sports together for years and vowed to stick by one another. Our primary goal was to make our dreams to become professional athletes a reality. 

Middle school also came with a new set of challenges. I was transitioning from attending private school to now entering the public school system and the culture was night and day. I was astounded by the fact that not all students did their homework. I quickly adapted to these new school practices. In that regard school was not hard for me, I just refused to work up to my level of ability. I had a few D’s but never brought home any F’s on my report cards. Looking back I refused to buy into the idea that I could be just as good of a student in the classroom that I was on the basketball court or football field. 

_AP28772.jpg

As I moved into high school I became an instant star on the football field. I played on the varsity team as a Freshman. Our team was full of good players. Some got Division I scholarships and I couldn’t wait for it to be my turn to go through the recruiting process.

My grades were mediocre my freshman year. Sophomore year I stepped it up in the classroom and made the honor roll the last two quarters of the school year. Our football team also won the Division II Ohio State Championship.

The summer before my Junior my great grandmother passed away and I was heartbroken! I didn’t realize that my grief was lingering inside of me - causing me to begin to self -destruct. The first quarter of my Junior year I had a 2.9 grade point average that declined several points each quarter after resulting in me having to attend summer school. I had begun to get recruiting letters from schools all over the country to play football. The dream I wanted was so close but I could feel it slipping away from me rapidly. Our team went to the state championship game the next two years as well and my Senior year I received the high honor of Defensive Player of the Year.

_AP28758.jpg

My destructive behavior began to cost me more than I had ever realized, I was being advised to leave traditional high school because my grades weren’t where they needed to be. I spiraled all over the country never taking advantage of several different opportunities that were provided to me. 

This year I have been able to see my future and take action to begin to repair my life and broken dreams. “What does that mean?” I’m not quite sure yet but what I know now is that I am more than just a boy with an athletic dream. I am a man put here on this earth for a purpose and I have begun to realize and live up to. I’m beginning by reaching out to and  pouring into other boys like me that are trying to find their path and make their dreams come true. The best of me has not been seen yet!  

Stay WOKE!

THE COMEBACK KID!  

_AP28756.jpg

The Comeback Kid

Ryan Reese

Son | Athlete

You can keep up with Ryan’s progress, offer words of encouragement and interact with him on facebook here: Ryan Reese

The Lamb is the Lion

_AP26331-Edit.jpg

Mortal Man

The Lamb is the Lion

by: amaha sellassie

I am beginning to ponder life and how much of it I could possibly have left.  While some may find this to be morbid or unhealthy, for me it is becoming liberating because it is propelling me past my fears and internal obstructions into walking in my medicine on the road we call life.

I find myself understanding my role in the human body, which is giving me the courage to say no to great things that don’t line up with my highest self. It is giving me boldness knowing that the lamb is the lion because the Sheppard is Supreme.

amaha-18.jpg

Pondering my mortality has given me patience.  What is five years of intense focus if in the end I can utilize a PHD for 50 years towards emerging equity and collective hope on the earth as we emerge the heart of humanity?

It is said when an elder dies a library is lost.  How do I share now so when I am gone all those who have freely poured into me live on in future generations? Dr Twe always teaches us to leave the earth better than we found it, I pray for the power to do that.

I want my daughter to inherit a world where as Stevie puts it “hate is a dream and Love forever stands”.

To birth Love we must give Love, therefore by grace I give my life to be Loves domain that humanity can know and make Love Supreme.

amaha-8.jpg

As we walk in the Way, we make the way known. The older I get the more I realize the power of action, walking out vision and re-imaging a world that honors the dignity and worth of every human being. The power of being the invitation thru occupying grace and acknowledging my interrelated interdependence with all things in the single garment of destiny. Ubuntu, for the supremacy of Love is the underlying assumption.

By grace I am a conductor on the above ground railroad, walking with humanity as we press towards higher ground, cooperation and mutual understanding. 

The conductors of today are building an ecosystem of equity that structuralizes the dignity every human being posses in order to release their potential for the benefit of all. I am learning to forgive in this exodus into One Love.

I am because we are.

amaha-4.jpg

The Lamb is the Lion

amaha sellassie

Practitioner Scholar, Social Healer, Health Equity Seeker, Public Sociologist, Community Based Participatory Researcher, Roots Doctor, Lover of Music & Comics and Friend of Humanity


Thankful participant in West Dayton Strong and Gem City Market

You can connect and build with Amaha on:

Instagram: @international_morality

Twitter: @intl_morality

Facebook: amaha sellassie

Out of the Shadows

_AP29044-Edit.jpg

Mortal Man

Out of the Shadows

By: Marc Dewitt

Jere Isiah DeWitt was a master conversationalist… a consummate networker, and he was ever curious. Pop was a corporate trainer, a storyteller, but so much more… he was loud and boisterous, proud and arrogant, dad loved his family, and introduced us to “kinfolk” often. To me he was a motivator, a confidante, later, even a friend.  But he was an antagonizer and my biggest critic. He was my nemesis… and all the while, my greatest cheerleader. Pop once told me I was a better father than him.  It’s the greatest compliment my father ever paid me...  Nathan LaMont DeWitt is a world traveler, a husband and father, a runner, a weekend warrior, a voracious reader and a terrible driver. Nathan is Jere’s spitting image and my parent’s oldest child. Nathan is also a corporate trainer, a world class professional, an international lecturer, an adjunct professor, and a consummate storyteller. A great friend. Nathan is my person. One of my fondest memories is being the best man in his wedding. He has quietly guided me my entire life. Although only 18 months my senior, standing 5’10”, or 11” if you ask him, he is to me larger than life. He is my big brother and my best friend.

Through their lived experiences, I’ve finally come to understand, life is short, but worth it. I grew up in the shadow of my big brother, it seemed he could do no wrong… so I did a lot of it. Nate was a great student, a shining example, literally a Boy Scout and choirboy. I was asthmatic, awkward and I missed a lot of school. I wasn’t socialized to students my own age. So I was more than a little unruly. I could not participate in gym, sometimes recess or any extra curriculars until middle school. I did not learn to ride a bike until 10 or 11.  Outdoors and physical exertion held every danger for me, and I could end up in the hospital, and often times did. I missed an average of 5 weeks of school a year, until middle school. When hospitalized I always wanted the IV to be put in my left hand so I could draw with my right. That did not usually work, so I became really good with my left. I was a comic book enthusiast growing up, absorbing mountains of comic books. 

_AP29021.jpg

As I entered middle school I was no longer excused from gym. Then came the ridicule from being big and not good at sports. Luckily the breathing issues were easing up but the “social” animal was rearing its ugly head.  Kids are cruel. And I was angry… all the time. Further, I wanted nothing to do with other kids. I was picked on some, but usually my brother ran interference. Nathan was wildly popular too. He could sing, and seemed to enjoy being really smart, and he was. And because of that I was always being called on the carpet by teachers who had Nate the previous year asking, “Marc, what’s wrong with you? Nate was such a good student!” or worse they’d call him down to deliver messages to the parents. Did I say I grew up in his shadow?

Then came high school, Nathan went with his friends and the rest of my neighborhood to Meadowdale.  When it was my turn, I chose John H. Patterson Cooperative High School. Where students learned a trade and got jobs while in high school. I didn’t want to go to college anyway. “right!?” Patterson was a little too “open”, or so my Father thought. So after my second year, and a lot of skipping class, Pop sent me to Meadowdale.  Insert that really long shadow again. Nate was still… Nate, only more so. He was beloved by teachers and classmates alike… I was an unknown. It was Nate’s senior year. That summer he called the house in the midst of a celebration and told me one of the realest things he’d ever say, “I have to see the world.”  After graduation, Nathan went to Ohio University in Athens, Ohio. That shadow that had been there my whole life was gone, but so was my big brother, my interpreter of the world around me. He made it look easy because he was so eager to experience life. Stranger still, he was hours away and while I finally had my own room, it seemed all I did now… was seek him out. Every chance I got I was in Athens, Ohio. After college, Nate moved to Japan to teach English, and live an incredible life. Leaving me with a stop the presses thought. He told me I was smarter than him. While I didn’t believe him, I thought that’s like your parents telling you something intended to push you. I still don’t agree, but it turns out, he meant it. Meanwhile, I graduated from high school and enrolled at Sinclair.  

_AP29039.jpg

It was Sinclair that would next play a huge role in my life. I was an admissions assistant a week after graduating high school. The job was fun but then I had to go to class. And deal with what I thought was a math disability, which was actually just a phobia. Anthony Ponder helped me with that by not letting me shy away. Challenging me to dig deeper, and conquering College Algebra. Rigor was my next lesson, courtesy of Marc Smith’s introductory Biology class. The next few years would take me to work full-time and a measure of independence. It would also introduce me to Christopher K. Welch. Chris challenged me to take on my first real job, earning for the first time, a living wage. As well as what I did not want to hear, “DeWitt” he said, “you have to go back to school.”

Enter, Central State University. Although I knew it was an HBCU, I was still caught off guard by the people I met. They were from all around the country and the world. But things were different, I was determined to make it. And although I did ok at first, two things happened in the first year. One, I made the decision to prioritize school like never before so I resigned my position and became part time. Two, I met William Henry Caldwell, a relatively small guy from Demopolis, Alabama.  He was/is a giant. Mr. Caldwell is probably the foremost authority on Black vocal choral music in the country, if not the world. He served as the Conductor of the Grammy Nominated Central State University Chorus. Caldwell offered me a scholarship, made me a principle voice, a part of something bigger than me. And thereby changed my world. That summer I was one of three students from Central’s chorus that served as guest vocalists for Wilberforce University’s Choir. Their spring tour would be a return visit to Egypt where they toured the previous year. They were invited back, this time, as guests to the US ambassador. We were to sing for his 4th of July Celebration at the Opera House in Cairo. In route, we spent the day (14 hour layover) in Amsterdam, visited Anne Frank’s house, and ate, before our connecting flight to Egypt. After singing at the opera house in Cairo, something occurred to me. My mother was in Japan visiting Nate. Pop was in South Africa on a mission trip for with his church. My step mom and younger brother, Jeremy, were in Europe. No one in either household I grew up in was in the continental United States. My world was suddenly so much bigger, all the while so much smaller.

_AP29026.jpg

Central State would afford me a similar experience in Europe touring England and France a few years later.  Between Egypt and Europe I spent nearly every term on the Dean’s List, traveled the US extensively, and accomplished the one thing I never imagined growing up; earning a bachelor’s degree in History and Economics. Sinclair and Central State changed my life. I’m thankful to the Most High for putting the men I’ve mentioned in my life when he did. I strive to be that difference maker for brothers I encounter. I am thankful for SaVon Isaiah, Ethan LaVance, Caden Matthew and Landon Thomas DeWitt… you teach your father daily. I love you. Pop keep an eye on them and us.

 
_AP29040.jpg

Out of the Shadows

By: Marc DeWitt

Son, Father, Brother, Educator, Artist, Mentor, Alpha, Student Advocate

Keep up with Marc on instagram at:

@6__5

Winter in America: a journey in education

_AP28949-Edit-2.jpg

Mortal man

Winter in America:

a journey in education

by: Christopher James

A journey in education is a look at the path that is all too common to the everyday walk of young black males.  Through various interactions and experiences, the feelings of inadequacy and the lack of confidence are easier to embrace than the motivation to try.  For any growing child the embrace of love is what’s wanted, but often youth do not know how to seek that love.  The love that an educator gives can inspire a student or shield a student from challenges that can instigate self-assurance.  

All throughout my educational experience, I was told that I could be anything I put my mind to. If I just get good grades the rest will work out, I will get a good job, good money, and be able to buy the car of my dreams.  This all sounded good but even in the fourth grade, I knew that this was not all that I needed.  Every day I saw my parents working hard, father preaching to the masses, and my mother teaching youth my own age at the time.  

In the early 90’s when Starter jackets were the greatest symbol for being fresh, my brother headed off to walk to his middle school with his friends as he did every day.  He was excited because he had on one of the most sought-after Starter jackets, the infamous Georgetown Hoyas with an embroidered bulldog logo on the front and back.  As he turned off of his home street, he heard a car come to a screeching stop beside him.  My brother stopped with a friend who were both curious to the abrupt stop when a guy in a black hoodie jumped out wielding a Smith and Wesson.  I remember the explanation of the gun because that was the first time I heard of Smith and Wesson as a gun manufacturer, I only heard the name in reference to rap duo Smif – N- Wessun, now known as Cocoa Brovas.  

Thankfully, my brother survived the incident without physical harm, but the toll was greater on my mother and father who felt helpless.  Here they are working to provide the best for their children for an incident to occur down the street from where we laid our heads.  

_AP28951.jpg

That incident sparked my parents to sacrifice more and send my brother and I to prestigious private schools.  My brother went to a private high school while I was sent to a Christian elementary school to start fourth grade.  My experience was anything but Christian.  I was forced to repeatedly apologize in the front of the class for proclaiming my innocence and not taking accountability, which in the fourth grade I didn’t know what it meant.  I was threatened with suspension because of a design in my haircut due to the school being against gang activity.  An experience that my parents reminded me of that I must have purposefully forgotten was when my class went on a school field trip and one of the school workers who was tasked to take me, and three other minority students back to school decided to drop us off at a near gas station because she didn’t want us in her car.  

After all of these incidents, my parents called a meeting that they insisted I be a part of with school administration.  Here I am, a child whose chest was barely at table level while sitting.  I remember vividly the discussion at the meeting.  I never saw my father mad aside from when I would break something, but today he carried a wave of calculated anger that appeared calm but deliberate. 

My father asked the teacher and the acting principal, “You asked my son to apologize for incidents he was not a part of? You’ve held him back from activities, and tried to suspend him for a squiggly-line in his hair? Will you apologize to us and him for our inconvenience?”  The principal jumped in “That’s a reasonable request and on behalf of the school I do apologize”, my father stopped the principal.   “Thank you, but I am asking the teacher.”  The teacher played with her keys and without making eye contact said, “You know, I do not have the courage to apologize right now.”  

As a child sitting at the table, I was hoping that the teacher would stop playing with the keys, I knew what my mother would do to me had I been playing like that.  I also immediately thought about that word “accountability”.  I had been hounded to write that word and what it meant for pages and pages and my teacher could not put that word into action.

Needless to say, that summer we moved from the urban-city environment to the suburbs.  In retrospect, these years planted a question in my mind as to why my environment was so different from this new community.  This new community was building new stores, homes, and in the process of building a new high school.  Years later, the urban neighborhood I grew up in looked the same as it did the morning my brother was robbed.   

This new community was great because I didn’t grow up worrying if I too would be robbed for my Air Force 1's, or my Sean John jacket.  This was a new frontier and a different type of challenge to conquer.  As a black student I was accepted, I was told that I served a purpose and that purpose was sports.  Sports was often said to be my only access to college.  The biggest thing with this experience for myself and other black youth, I received love due to my physical abilities and was not taken seriously in any other facets of the school. 

Prior to the beginning of my senior year as a family, we moved out of state so my father could take advantage of a new position/promotion within the church.  This was a complete culture shock for me.  I had been in class with white students before, had white teachers, black women teachers, but never a black male teacher.  This standard did not change as I entered this new school for my senior year.  Instead, I was faced with the reality that I would be a member of a group that represented only 5% of the students in the entire school.  This new normal meant that I would be the only black student in the class, and when questions of race, slavery, or affirmative action came up, teachers would use me to confirm that the country was in a good place, even to my objections.

_AP28944.jpg

The experiences in grade school prepared me for the perceived utopian society that college is and the real world stipulations involved.  In an environment where students are eagerly finding themselves and searching for representations of who they wish to become it was especially difficult to find myself in this space.  As an American male who is black, I did not have a black male teacher or professor until my final year in college.   

The effects of limited representation continued into college as I dealt with finding myself in an environment that was not conducive to young black men.  The college experience is tough as it is, being away from home, student responsibility, and the yearning to make a difference in a world unknown.  I was taught many lessons in college while trying to find myself in all of these mentioned roles.  I was faced with professors who allowed their implicit bias to calculate my grades, a professor kicked me out of class because she thought I wasn’t human.  I like to refer to her as Mrs. Turnpin, a fictional character from a book we read in that course of a lady who thought she was righteous by upholding standards even though those standards were rooted in racism and bigotry.  Lastly, the staple in a black youth’s life, the rite of passage of being harassed, mocked, arrested, and falsely charged by the finest in blue.  This was a journey of discovery to move from a black youth to a black man fighting for distinction.   

To bring this full circle, I have always wanted to be a representation for my community but mostly for youth that are searching for an authentic person that can represent and support them.  With this motivation driving my passion I jumped to the opportunity to be an administrator in a K-8 elementary school in Cleveland, Ohio.  In this role, I was the quasi-assistant principal tasked with ensuring school engagement in the community and finding ways to support students and staff needs.  As I began to find my way in this new role I was rocked with a tragedy that would gain national attention.  A student that took a liking to me and began a relationship with was gunned down in a “good shoot” police encounter.  The school student body looked to me to help navigate them through this traumatic experience with the killing of their classmate, Tamir Rice.  As Dean of this school, I attempted to seek out any and all organizations and supports to help students with trauma until my efforts were hindered by leadership that wanted to operate this traumatic event as a normal occurrence.  Missing the point that this decision would reinforce the stigma that urban youth do not matter. 

_AP28962.jpg

This brief scope into my educational experience is not out of the norm for students who share my skin tone. The importance of representation goes beyond just seeing someone who looks like you in a position of success or power.  Representation is about having individuals of different experiences and insights that will have a say and seat at the table where the variety of experiences, cultures, and philosophies will add value and sensitivity to decision making.  My inspiration for helping youth in education, community, and life is driven from a motto I learned when I decided to enter the teaching field, “your job is to get at least one student to listen.”  

At the time, I thought this idea was right.  I no longer feel that way because I found out early that the students who listened to me were often the cast-offs or troublemakers.  This revealed to me that all students can be great if they’re taken seriously, given unbiased time and attention, and know that someone cares.  Instead, we choose to forget them.  Just like the forest beneath the highway never given a chance to grow, and now it’s Winter in America (Gil Scott Heron). 

 
_AP28960-2.jpg

WINTER IN AMERICA

A JOURNEY IN EDUCATION

Christopher James

Father, Educator, Nupe, Community Advocate, Freedom Fighter

Keep with Christopher on instagram at: @bionik_man_man

Resilience

_AP20821-Edit.jpg

Mortal Man

Resilience

By: Diecer Delfin

My family and I are originally from the Philippines. Growing up I dealt with domestic violence and my father use to do shaboo, (Filipino term for meth) and crack. His drug habit would make him paranoid and when that happened we all knew it, especially if he wasn’t home by a certain time of night. We knew that he would come home drunk or high and start wailing away on my mother. My two sisters and I couldn’t do anything to help her: we were too small. I remember my oldest sister hiding us to protect us from my father. There was one instance when my oldest sister confessed to us that my father and his friend were doing drugs at our house one day and his friend tried to rape her. So I wasn’t the only one that was traumatized in our house - it was my sisters as well (especially my oldest sister because her memories are more vivid.)

Going back to my childhood I realize that I learned what depression was at an early age. I can recall wanting to die so that I wouldn’t have to suffer through day to day life. This is at five or six years old. I can’t even imagine a child feeling that way. For me no day was safe. Not birthdays, not holidays - there were no safe days in my childhood. Something always happened. That’s affected me as a husband. I find myself expecting the worst. My wife always has my back and reminds me that I’m not my father.

As I look back at my adolescence I realize that I didn’t really have a mother or father figure. It was just me and my sisters. My sisters and I talk about our childhood a lot and how messed up it was.

When we were still living in the Philippines I remember my dad coming home with the intention of chopping my mother up with a machete. My mother grabbed my sisters and I and hid us in the bushes. She left us there and told us she was going to call for help. Later my aunt “my dad’s sister” came and got us. At this point we had no idea where our mother was. We didn’t now if she was still living or not. That day lives in the back of my mind.

I can vividly remember my father often waking me up early in the morning. High on drugs and coupled with his OCD kicking in. He gave me the choice of mopping the floor or being beaten. We lived in a rural area and he would tell us that he was going into the city to look for a job. Twenty-four hours would go by and the neighbors would notice that he was gone so they would call me in and tell me to eat with them. There would be days when my father would send me to the public market to beg for food. “Who does that as a father?” So yeah, I can’t help but be angry.

Our family immigrated to Chicago just before the attacks on September 11th with hopes of living a better life. My parents sold their land so we could have money to survive on when we got here. When we got to Chicago we thought that we turned a new page and that things would get better but as the years went by things continued to happen that would tear our family apart. Though my sisters and I remain close we are currently all living in different parts of the country. Even in Chicago my father continued to do drugs. The beatings didn't stop.

_AP20817.jpg

My mother was the provider of our family but provided very little “if any” emotional support. She handled her “responsibilities” as a mother but she was never present as the “nurturing” mother. As I grew up I started questioning things. A lot of doubt crept into my mind on top of all of the anxiety that I experienced every night. The nights continue to be hard for me. When 9:00pm hits I always feel like something is gonna pop off.

I go through depression to the point that I’m seeing somebody to help me deal with it but you can only talk so much. I to try to make sense of things. The physical effects are always there no matter how much I try to alleviate it. I use medication and photography to help me cope but the things that I have experienced will never leave my body and I have come to terms with the fact that there’s no escaping that. I have to find a way to make peace with things.

I’ve had some really bad lows in my life and I have thought about suicide a lot. Just being so fed up - replaying the same thing every day; even when I don’t want to - it just invades my mind. Some days I don’t even want to go outside and deal with people because I feel like they can sense everything that I’ve been through.

I know one day I’m going to have a child of my own and they are going to want to know about my childhood; “what am I going to say?”

To this very day I try to make sense of the things my dad did. The way my mother would talk down to me out of anger. She would call me worthless. That’s part of the reason that I enlisted in the army. She was at the table eating dinner and I came home and laid the contract on the table. I told her “I’m gonna be out of here.” The army was my way out. Living in Chicago and looking back everyone is still doing the same things now that they were doing at an early age. I knew that I had to get out of Chicago in order to establish myself.

I can’t help but get angry when I think about my past. I do know that I need to talk about it because if I don’t it builds up. With that all being said and despite the unfortunate things that I had to see and experience I learned at a young age what not to do. I learned resilience early in life.

_AP20812.jpg

My father never asked for help, I wish that he knew he needed it. To this day it’s hard for him to take accountability for his actions. When I talk to him now I don’t see him as my father. He helped give me life but that’s it. I completely shut myself off from him. I’ve already discussed with my wife and sisters that I don’t think I will want him around my kids once my wife and I decide to have them. We’ve given him so many chances and things always end the same.

My dad is manipulative. I can remember him giving me a camera and I loved it! I told him he was the best dad ever. Then we got into a disagreement and he took it away. That was his thing - he’d buy us things only to use them against us and eventually take them away. That messes with you.

He would take me on “joy rides” around the city. He’d come to a sudden stop and tell me to wait in the car. I would see a woman open the door. At that age I was so naive that I didn’t realize what was going on. Now looking back I’m able to put the pieces together and I’m like man. Me and my sisters are ashamed and embarrassed that we are linked to him because we are nothing like him. I guess I still need to learn what “real” forgiveness is.

 
_AP20830.jpg

Resilience

By: Diecer Delfin

Husband + Friend + Photographer + Storyteller

instagram: @_diecer

My Jewelry

M. Carter cover

Mortal Man

My Jewelry

By: Michael Carter

“Your hearing loss is more noticeable than your hearing aids will be.” My audiologist said those words to me as I sat in her office for my consultation about my hearing loss. Much to my wife’s frustration, I put off going to a hearing specialist for a very long time, and now I was afraid what the test results would reveal. For years, I tried to compensate for my hearing loss, by turning my head when in quiet conversation, to get people to speak into my right ear, which could pick up voices a little easier than my left one. My wife often said the TV volume and the radio in the car were too loud, and I frequently had trouble understanding what my grandkids were saying.

M. Carter

In the small soundproof booth designed to expose my auditory failings, I concentrated and strained to hear every tiny beep, and buzz. When the test was over, I was informed that I would not need one hearing aid, but two due to moderate hearing loss.

 I tried to recall the cause of my predicament. Was it the Hong Kong Flu that I suffered when I was 7 years old? Was it being hit on the chin by a baseball bat at age 12? Being the music lover that I am, was it listening to Earth, Wind and Fire, The Police, and Heatwave with my headphones, volume on high? Was this a side effect of some medication I had taken at some point?

Ultimately, does knowing the cause really matter at this point?

M. Carter 2

Several days later, I picked up my hearing aids with much anticipation, wondering how my life might change. After a brief tutorial, I placed one in one ear, then the other. The difference was dramatic and immediate. I could hear the air conditioning unit pushing out cold air; I heard my sleeve being rustled by my hand. I scratched my forehead, and not only did I feel it, I HEARD it as well, Wow!

As we drove home, the radio played at half the volume I had previously had it on, and I heard the turn signal of my car for the first time in a long time. I began to realize more and more how much I had been impacted by hearing loss, and how selfish I have been all of this time because the loss had not only affected me, but those around me.

_AP27127.jpg

As my wife and I went for a walk that evening, I heard sounds, which I had not heard with such gusto in a number of years, birds chirping and leaves crunching under our feet. I also heard a train in the distance. 

I discovered that wearing hearing aids has not made me feel old and incapable as I thought they would. In many ways, it has been liberating; allowing me to enjoy many things more richly. My wife calls my hearing aids “jewelry”, and like what happens when one buys a car and notices other cars of that model never noticed before, I began to notice other people wearing their “jewelry.”

My “jewelry” has enhanced the quality of my life by improving my interactions with people at work, my family and friends.

M. Carter book

According to the National Institute on Deafness and Other Communication Disorders (NIDCD), approximately 15% of American adults report some trouble hearing. Men are almost twice as likely as women to have hearing loss among adults aged 20-69; and One in eight people in the U.S. aged 12 years or older has hearing loss in both ears, based on standard hearing examinations. Armed with this knowledge and “my jewelry” I am now an ambassador for the importance of good hearing.



_AP27068.jpg

Michael Carter

My Jewelry

Husband, Father, Brother, Mentor

Chief Diversity Officer at Sinclair Community College

Hearing loss affects 48 million people in the United States. It is one of the most common conditions affecting older and elderly adults.

Some degree of hearing loss may be a normal part of aging. Age-related hearing loss occurs gradually and tends to affect each ear equally. It's often the result of changes in the inner ear. Because age-related hearing loss occurs over time, it can be difficult to recognize.

Signs and symptoms of hearing loss may include:

Muffling of speech and other sounds. Difficulty understanding words, especially against background noise or in a crowd of people. Trouble hearing consonants. Frequently asking others to speak more slowly, clearly and loudly.

Permission to Cry

mortal man

permission to cry

by: tripp fontane

KBS order (1 of 1)-7.jpg


Permission to cry, mama?

I know you say big boys aren't supposed to

What about when I don’t feel so big

When I feel as small as singular salt stain on cheek

I’m hurt

Watching you hurt

Forcing your body well past 40 hours

Working your fingers to arthritis

Struggling to interlock your fingers

Planting prayers under your pillow

Crying over them nightly

At least let me cry with you

Maybe they’ll grow faster

 

Permission to cry, babe?

I know it makes me weaker

A little less man with every tear

But I'm tired

Exasperated

From keeping it all in

My arms aren't big enough to hold us both together at once

I'd rather let it out than let you go

Are my tears safe with you?

Can I trust you enough to lay down my burdens

And them not being weaponized and held against me?

Can I be imperfect?

More man than super

Must my masculinity be my kryptonite here too?

 

Permission to cry, my nigga?

I mean I was there when it happened

I know it's against the code

But I don't wanna be a G right now

I just wanna grieve

My eyelids ain’t got much strength no way

Closing my eyes couldn’t stop closed casket

Couldn’t stop me from seeing just how cruel fate can be

I can’t continue on congested

Heavy

No Paul could bear the weight

Eyelids weary from playing dam to an overdue river of truth

My eyelids not strong enough to stop me seeing

 

Permission to cry, dad?

I know it’s not how you raised me

But, I’ve fallen

Too many times to ignore pain

I’ve been in pain too long to continue neglecting the healing process

‘Cuz I don’t wanna be the man your actions taught me to be

Cold

Bitter as tears that never fell

Oppressive weight you were too “strong” to let go

You taught me emotionally immature

You taught me to trap myself behind walls of bravado

To call them protection

Call them manhood

Do you even remember how to cry out for help?

 

Permission to cry?

‘Cuz I’m broken

From contorting spirit into stereotypes called masculinity

From trying so hard to pull the pieces together

They’re never all they cracked up to be

Permission to be

Okay

Or

Not okay

And express is

Permission to express

To evict negative energy without fear of judgment

Permission to breath

To sigh in the name of relief

Permission to baptize

To be cleansed in a collection of my own tears

Permission to...… to...… to...


Tripp Fontane

Rapper | Poet | Educator | Author

Tripp Fontane is a Dayton native - rapper, poet, educator, author of the book (All Is Fair - A Collection of Poems and Thoughts on Love) and founding member of the spoken word group of Underdog Academy.

instagram: @trippfontane and @underdogacademy

facebook: Tripp Fontane

twitter: @TrippFontane

website: uapoetry.com

booking inquiries: trippfontane@gmail.com

order Tripp’s (All Is Fair) book: All Is Fair

Interview with Photographer and Art Director Mathieu Bitton

mbc2.JPG

You may not be familiar with the name Mathieu Bitton but chances are that you’ve seen his work before. Mathieu is a modern day renaissance man. He is a photographer, art director, film maker, globe trotter and father. The Grammy nominated artist has had work featured in numerous magazines, album covers, music and movie posters, coffee table books, packaging, merchandise and of course photography exhibits. He is also a Leica Cameras ambassador and official tour photographer of Lenny Kravitz and has also been hanging out with Dave Chappelle quite a bit lately.

I have been following Mathieu’s work for the past few years so when I saw that Lenny Kravitz was billed to be one of the headliners at this year’s Bourbon and Beyond music festival in Louisville the very first thing I did was reach out to Mathieu to see if he would be coming along and willing to meet up.

I see photographers make the same mistakes all the time and I’ve seen it here today where they will just walk up and start shooting. There’s no bridge, no preparation, there’s no making someone comfortable or even introducing yourself
— Mathieu Bitton

Aaron Paschal: Thank you for taking time out to meet with me. I’ve been a fan of your work for quite some time so it’s great to be able to sit and chat with you.

You’ve been REALLY busy lately and you recently did the cover shoot for Lenny Kravitz’s new album “Raise Vibration.” What’s that experience been like for you?

Mathieu Bitton: It’s been really cool. I’ve been working with Lenny for right about a decade now and although I shot all of the inside photos and back cover for his “Black and White America” album he used an old childhood photo for the front cover so this is actually the first time having a front album cover with Lenny.

We did the shoot it in the Bahamas without even really thinking about the album. We were just hanging out on the beach and we were taking photos and playing around and then we looked at the back of the camera and were like, “that’s it, that’s the album cover!” I’ve found that that’s the way the best stuff happens, when things just fall into place. So it’s been pretty exciting to finally have a Lenny Kravitz album that’s been all of my photography and design from cover to cover.

AP: I can tell that you enjoy that process.

MB: Definitely. I’ve shot and designed a lot of album covers for other people so it was only right that I finally did one for Lenny. I’ve pretty much done all of his singles but this except for the last album, “that was another photographer” but all of the singles from “Black and White in America” and all of the deluxe editions were done by me.

AP: I see that you were listed in the credits on the last two Prince releases “Purple Rain Deluxe” and “Piano and a Microphone 1983.”

MB: Yes, helping out in these releases has been a dream come true. I knew Prince and had worked on a couple of his projects in the past. He was my favorite artist of all time and I’m still completely heartbroken about his passing so that’s a tough one. I hope that more of his amazing, unreleased music like this will eventually become available because there’s a lot to be heard.

AP: Are there any other album design projects that you have in the works?

MB: I also just designed 2-LP deluxe vinyl reissues of Lenny Kravitz’s first six albums, with more on the way, as well as several deluxe editions of “Raise Vibration.” Other new vinyl releases I’m excited about having designed are both of James Brown’s Classic Blaxploitation soundtracks “Black Caesar” and “Slaughter’s Big Rip Off,” the Willie Hutch soundtrack to the legendary Pam Grier films “Foxy Brown” and Roy Ayers - penned “Coffy” as well as the previously unreleased Velvet Underground 2LP “1969” and the related Nico album “Chelsea Girl.”

AP: You are ALWAYS on the grind. What keeps you going?

MB: I love what I do so that’s the only thing that keeps me from going insane. I am at the point now where I really need a break but I’m out photographing Lenny’s tour which is a relatively short tour that only runs a couple of weeks and then I’m supposed to go to Europe with Dave Chappelle and Jon Stewart. Once that’s done I’m thinking I may get to spend a little time at home. So far this year I have not been able to spend more than two weeks there at once. Last year was similar too. I’m so grateful that I just look at things and see myself as the lucky one. Yeah, I’m out of shape and a little exhausted but I’ll find time to catch up.

AP: One thing that jumps out to me is the relationships that you seem to have with the celebrities and people that you work with. When I look on social media they don’t just “tag” you in the pictures but quite often they post pictures of you, or with you and it’s obvious that there’s a genuine level of respect and friendship. Can you talk about how important it is to establish those type of relationships?

 MB: What sets photographers apart is being able to establish good, friendly relationships with the people that you work with. You want them to be comfortable with you. I see photographers make the same mistakes all the time and I’ve seen it here today where they will just walk up and start shooting. There’s no bridge, no preparation, there’s no making someone comfortable or even introducing yourself. This generation that we are in now with the selfies and photos every five seconds there’s no boundaries for capturing “moments.” So you need to actually respect the people that you’re shooting and at the same time with me I’ll speak for myself, “I have a lot of gratitude for just being there.” The fact that they trust me and the fact that they brought me somewhere and gave me access to photograph moments for them; I want to give them the best possible work based on that and they appreciate that.

Dave Chappelle mentioned my name in his Netflix special and I was completely blown away by that. But there’s a reason for that. Over time you establish a mutual respect for one another and I don’t look at it as business from that point. It becomes more of a friendship and we just happen to be working together but it’s friendship first. I think that shows in my work as well because people are more relaxed and they give you more access to certain situations. My relationship with Dave Chappelle is another example of that. He’s a private guy and doesn’t really allow any photographers at his shows. All of a sudden we developed this relationship and I’m given all of this access.

My friend, the legendary D-Nice is a great Leica photographer who’s been shooting there with Dave for years before me and the greatest harmonica player in the world - Fred Yonnet who I refer to as my photography student – “and he has a great eye” both have full access to shoot Dave as well. So it’s a small group of us and I have nothing but gratitude for that. Fred was actually shooting Nikon when were at Radio City Music Hall last year but I turned him onto Leica and so now he’s loving it. So there’s a few of us that Dave will allow to shoot but that’s also based on the results. If somebody sees your work and they’re not impressed they are not going to waste their precious time so I constantly have to deliver my best possible work.

Last week I had a totally impromptu shoot that I wasn’t really prepared for. I was asked to come by the Peppermint Club in Los Angeles. I didn’t know what was going on so I just grabbed my Leica Q, which is a great camera but I use it more for backstage photos or just running around. It’s not my big camera that I use. Along with Dave, LeBron James, Jon Stewart, Katt Williams and all these big names were there and on top of all of that Will Smith did his first ever stand-up comedy show. So I felt a little handicapped. I had all of this incredible stuff in front of me and there I was shooting with this 28mm lens. In the end they are all looking at my images saying “wow these photos are great!” But I’m sitting there totally insecure. I’m thinking I fucked up; I should have had my Leica SL “my big camera.” But hey, you win some you lose some. We still got some cool stuff. That’s one of the things that I love about working with people like Dave, and Prince was like that too; you never know what’s going to happen and that keeps me on my toes!

AP: That’s great to be creatively pushed and challenged like that. I’ve watched you shoot before. It was at Dave Chappelle’s Juke Joint in Yellow Springs, OH earlier this year. For those that don’t know this event goes on until nobody’s standing!

 MB: Yes! I came in from Paris that day where I was at the rehearsals for Lenny Kravitz’s tour. I got off the plane and went straight to the gig so I had been up all night. I think by the time I got back to Paris I realized that I had been up four days straight. So yeah, it’s a demanding gig but they are so much fun because you never know who’s going to be there or what’s going to happen.

AP: Do you have a bucket list of people that you would like to photograph?

MB: It’s funny, my sorta bucket list is always Jack White. Well I recently designed a poster for his tour. So I was like okay, “that was another dream come true.” But he’s one that’s definitely one that was on my bucket list so hopefully I’ll get to photograph him some day.

I have had the opportunity to shoot so many artists and people that were on my wish list in the last couple of years it’s been crazy. I would like to do a proper shoot with Jay-Z. As far as portraits Larry David and Woody Allen are two people that I would like to sit down and do portraits of. I’ve shot a lot of comedians but those two are musts! Woody is getting up there in age now so…

AP: Have you tried reaching out to them?

MB: I tend to let things like that happen naturally or if something opens up I find ways to make it happen. Melvin Van Peebles had always been someone that I wanted to photograph and things worked out where I got to go to his place and shoot him so that was amazing. That happened completely naturally through a friend of mine that used to be married to Mario Van Peebles. Their son was going to visit Grandpa Melvin and she said, “hey maybe you should grab your camera and go along.” That ended up being a dream come true for me.

AP: What advice would you give to aspiring music photographers?

MB: If you play your cards right things have a tendency to fall into place. It’s that whole Laws of Attractions. If you’re on the right path and you do what you should do and you’re not lazy a lot of things will come your way. I’ve found that a lot of people are just lazy. I get a lot of messages from people complaining about my son Miles. He’s 18 and just went off to college but he trained with me and he’s becoming a great photographer in his own rights. I get people complaining that it’s not fair, that it’s nepotism - I’m like what!? “He’s my kid, it’s my responsibility to show him things I know and I want to hang out with him.” He’s not even trying to be a photographer but he’s been able to get some great shots just from going to events with me. Now Miles is off in college I look at his instagram account and he’s getting the most amazing photos. So he’s on his own now and that’s great! If you are real and honest and grateful things do fall into place.

AP: So with all of the things that you have on your plate do you do all of your post work “edits” on your photos?

MB: I do all of my post work and I do it quick! “laughs.” I boost a few levels in Lightroom and then I’m done. Sometimes it’s exhausting and I’m like wow, “how am I going to work my way through these images.” Like last week at the Peppermint. I had traveled from Paris to New York, back to Los Angeles, back to New York, back to Los Angeles. So I was tired and wondering how am I going to find time to edit all of these images tonight. The thing is that there were a couple other people that were there shooting as well so it’s competitive. So I was thinking that if I don’t do mine right now those other photographer’s images are going to be out first. Usually when I’m working with Dave I’m the only photographer shooting for the sake of press but that night Will Smith had a guy there shooting as well so I was like “oh shit, I have to get these ready!” and like I said I was already insecure about not having the right camera.

AP: I actually became aware of your work and started keeping up with you a couple of years ago when I came across your Darker Than Blue project. I was on Instagram and Leica posted these amazing black and white images that captivated me. I called the Leica Store in Los Angeles to order the book and you just so happened to be there. We spoke on the phone briefly and you signed my copy of the book. What’s going on with Darker Than Blue now and do you plan on doing more projects like that?

MB: You’re lucky, those things sold-out quick! I actually saw one on eBay that sold for a couple hundred bucks and I thought that was crazy. I’m working with a publisher now to publish a proper copy sometime soon but that edition that you have is a rare one and I’m glad that you got a copy!

Darker Than Blue is an ongoing project that I’m continuously adding to. I keep getting asked to do music exhibitions which I may do eventually but I feel like I’m not done with Darker Than Blue yet. It’s a traveling exhibition so now it’s in Germany and then I think it’s going to Shanghai and Singapore and like I said I keep adding pictures to it. Once I do the big book and I feel satisfied that I’m done then I do a exhibit with images from my music photography. But Darker Than Blue is such a passion project that I’ll probably just keep shooting sand adding to it. There’s so many beautiful people. I grew up in Paris and Paris is the place that opened it’s heart to jazz and embraced black culture at a time when guys like Miles Davis and Dexter Gordon couldn’t even use certain restrooms in America. They were treated like Gods in France so I feel like that’s in my blood. I grew up on black music, black films; so I appreciate black culture. I think the karma in that is that now I get to photograph and hang out with my favorite artists. When the Chappelle show was out that was like religion for me. I was like “I can’t go anywhere or do anything tonight! I gotta watch The Chappelle show!” So now if I go back to myself at that time, watching Dave Chappelle, Questlove, John Mayer, Mos Def and all of those people on the Chappelle Show and realizing that now I’ve literally worked with and became friends with all of them, it’s kind of surreal. I’ve had that a lot in my life and the only way that I can describe it is pure passion. It’s not always about money or saying I’m not gonna do some big project that I’m not going to get paid for it. With me it’s all about passion. Sometimes you get paid what you deserve, sometimes you do it just because you want to do it and sometimes you just want to help someone out.

The success is to not have rules. The only rules you have are boundaries and respect. Some people respect you and when people try to start cutting corners that’s when you know it’s not going to work. So knowing who you are and your value as a photographer is important. Sometimes it doesn’t seem real. I’m humbled when people send me messages or stop me on the streets. I look at them like “I think you got the wrong guy.” I’m glad because I don’t want to be like Kanye West about it. I don’t want to be like “yeah my shit is dope!” To me that’s the best shit in the world - when people let you know that they appreciate your work. But I realize that the subject plays a role in it too so it’s a combination of things. It drives me a little crazy when I see people taking themselves so seriously. We all can do it. Creating a way to get the access is the main thing; creating that trust.

AP: What do you hope to achieve “creatively” in the next twelve months?

MB: That’s a really good question. I’m just finishing up another documentary a film of Lenny Kravitz about his new album “Raise Vibration.” I think I’m going to get more into film work. Maybe features, I don’t know if that will happen within a year but it’s definitely a big dream of mine to make a feature film. Just keep growing. But that’s such a good question because I don’t even know what the universe has in store for me. I like to have some published books.

AP: I’m sure you get asked this question a lot but of all of the concerts and events that you have captured which one is your favorite or stands out to you the most?

MB: Wow! Well Dave’s stand at Radio City Music Hall for a whole month last year was the most insane experience of my life. Being on tour with Lenny there’s been some shows where I’ve been blown away. But there’s not one specific show that I can point back to. The other night at the Peppermint Club I left there thinking “wow, this may be the best night of my life” but that was just the latest time I said that. (Laughs.) Seeing Will Smith do stand-up for the first time in his life was crazy AND to get to shoot it was amazing. And he was funny. LeBron was funny too. I had already shot LeBron with Dave before about a year and a half ago but Dave brings that out in people. He has that talent to make other people feel like they have a little bit of “funny” in them and he knows how to bring it out of them.

AP: I want to thank you once again for taking time to talk with me and CincyMusic, we appreciate you!

MB: Thank you, I appreciate you and your interest in my work and I’ll see you out there shooting!

 

Visit Mathieu Bitton’s website: mathieubitton.fr to keep up with his work and be sure to follow him on instagram as well: @candytman

Redemption Song of an O.G.

OG-18-Edit.jpg

MORTAL MAN

REDEMPTION SONG OF AN O.G.

BY: SAMUEL E. GOODE

My path in life got fucked up early in life when my mother married my stepfather. When they got together I felt like I pretty much became an outsider. Things got so bad that I left there and went to live with my grandfather. I think I was six or seven when this all happened. My grandfather had remarried and his second wife was abusive towards me. She was an abuser and I caught a lot of hell and took a lot of unnecessary beatings from her. That part of my life hardened me and shaped me for the streets. When I left my grandfather’s house I went straight from the country to the city. The beatings that I took as a kid toughened me up physically and damaged me mentally. All and all I think I handled things pretty well because it didn’t fuck me up. I know other people that have been abused that simply couldn’t deal with life.

During one of the darkest times in my life I felt like it was pretty much “kill or be killed.” I was just out there. At the time me and three of my best friends were running a crack house and things were running smooth. We did all of our dope in the basement of a house that we had taken over and we would rent the other rooms out, “we had the girls working” and money was flowing. We shut everything down to take a break and chill down in Florida. As we were about to leave a rival that we didn’t even know about moved on us and all hell broke out. They came up to the car shooting at us, glass was flying everywhere. All three of my best friends at the time lost their lives that day. I suffered a bullet wound. Somehow my face was covered in blood so they thought I was dead too. They checked the car for our drugs and our money but it wasn’t there. What really saved my life was an ambulance that was going down the highway. The guys thought it was coming down the street that we were on so they stopped going through the car and sped off.

OG-7.jpg

I feel guilty for surviving that day and what I went through still haunts me to this day. When you see people that close to you get murdered like that it does something to you. When you’re in the streets it conditions you to seek your own justice. When you add that up with all of the abuse that I took as a kid it primed me for a life of violence and that’s something that I was good at it. When I got out of that car and saw what happened to my friends I went on a rampage. I did things that still hurt me to this day. I did things that I want to talk about and that I need to talk about but whenever I try there’s always something that holds me back. Also I’ve done certain things don’t come with a statute of limitations and I don’t want to share or say things that may lead to me going back to jail.

When I moved to Atlanta it was like I entered a completely different world. This was during the crack era when there were all kinds of drugs hitting the streets so there was a lot of money changing hands. Crack and dope was so heavy in Atlanta that you could take $100 and flip it so fast that it would turn into $100,000 in no time and the faster it came the faster it went. I lived on the west side of Atlanta and at the time I was pretty big and muscular. I mean I grew up on a farm so I was a big, strong kid but I didn’t know shit about the streets. Well as things unfolded I pretty much got tricked into becoming a pimp at this hotel I was working at. I thought I was just working security but the next thing I knew I had about six girls working the streets for me. This was a quick phase in my life that lasted for about two years. I’m an old fashion guy so I didn’t really like exploiting women. At that time in my life I felt like pimping was the only way that I could survive so I did what I felt I had to do to survive. During this whole stretch I had been looking for my brother and as soon as I found him I left all that stuff behind me that same day and never looked back.

OG-2.jpg

My brother and I were tight so we were glad to be back together but we both worked two or three jobs and felt like we weren’t getting anywhere. One of my jobs was at the Lennox Mall and I met this rich white guy named “John” that wanted to play gangsta’. Meeting him took me down a whole different path in life and most of it wasn’t good. During this time in my life I saw a lot of shit and I did a lot of shit that I still struggle to come to terms with. The people that “John” introduced me to were looking for people that were ruthless and that didn’t ask any questions; that fit me well. When I lived in North Carolina I did a little time here and there for petty crimes that I committed but things I was doing in Atlanta was on a whole different level.

Everybody that “John” introduced me to was rich. There wasn’t a single low-level dude and once I got to that level I hated it. I loved the life but it came with a cost. I’m lucky to be alive today because when you’re in the game there’s only a couple of ways out… prison and more than likely death. When I left Atlanta I was on the run. I stole a truck from a guy that I did yard work for and went back to North Carolina.

OG-17.jpg

In North Carolina me and my partners went on a robbing spree. We hit gas stations, convenient stores, broke into houses; just taking stuff and selling it. There was a 38 special that I stole from a gas station that I really liked so I kept it. One night I was down at a juke joint; I was drunk and shooting the gun off. Just wilding out and shit. My grandfather was a deputy sheriff so one of my cousins that was at the juke joint called my grandfather and told him to come and get me and try to calm me down. When my grandfather got there he pulled up beside me and told me to give him the gun. I just threw it in the trunk and he shut the door and drove off. Shit caught up with me about the robbing the gas station that I stole the gun. My finger prints were all over everything so I couldn’t deny it. They asked about the gun and I told them I didn’t know shit about it. They asked my grandfather if he’d ever seen me with a gun and he told them about the night at the juke joint when he took the gun from me. My grandfather lost his job and had to do a year in prison. My mother, grandmother and my aunts never talk about it but I still feel like they have animosity towards me about that. We all get along now so I guess that’s all that matters. My grandfather was mad about the shit I did to get the gun but he knew the shit that went down after that was more about the people that didn’t like him getting him out of the way more than anything. This was a town in the south with a black deputy sheriff so they tried to tie him into my shit but were unable to. They charged him with some bogus conspiracy charge but that was it.

When I got out I left North Carolina again and got caught up in some more shit. I was on the run again and went back to North Carolina. I was there for about a week before I got caught. I did about two years and went to my grandfather’s house when I got out. One day my grandfather and I sat and talked out on the porch for about four hours. I remember him telling me that he wanted me to get to know the other side of my family. Two days after that conversation my grandfather passed away. Right after his funeral I packed up and moved to Dayton and I’ve been here ever since. This is exactly where I need to be because this family means everything to me. Thugging, street life - all of that stuff takes a backseat to my family. I want the generations behind me to see me in a better light. I know I could easily go back to Atlanta or wherever and get right back into the life I lived before. I’ve put that so far behind me that I don’t even have that urge. I just like to sit at home and enjoy my family.

OG-10.jpg

I’ve lost best friends, seen people killed that I knew right in front of my face and it ain’t shit that I can do about it. Nothing. I feel so lucky to be here in Dayton. I feel like if I hadn’t moved back to my grandfather’s house after I got out of the joint that I would be dead or somewhere rotting in prison. The people I have surrounding me now look at me without fear in their eyes. They love me unconditionally. When I was young I didn’t have this type of love. I love my family and I don’t want to disappoint them. This family gave me a brand new start and they are the reason that I’m the man that I am today. It wasn’t an easy transition and early on I got into a little trouble here but nothing compared to the things I did in Atlanta or North Carolina.

Now even with that being said I have no problem going to jail or to hell for defending my family. I wouldn’t even bat an eyebrow. But I try tell them to handle their business the right way so that they don’t feel like they have to go to the streets. One thing is that I know them and I know that they wouldn’t be able to handle the streets. I’m proud that I’ve played a role in keeping my family away from the streets. That’s my purpose now. It’s nothing cool about being in the streets. Jail is not a place you want to be. It’s nothing but concrete and steel. I tell them if they have a problem “come see me, I’ll take care of it.” If you feel that you’re getting upset or that you need to get violent, call me. I can talk them down or get them out of the situation without even going to that next level BUT if we have to “let me handle it.” At this time in my life I’m here for them. No matter how early or late it is, if they need me they can call me. That gives me the strength to keep pushing on and to stay planted. I’m so proud of where I am right now because I know where I could be. I’m at peace. Before I came here and surrounded myself with family I couldn’t even sleep without knowing I had somebody around me that had my back. I wouldn’t trade the peace of mind that I have right now for anything else in the world.

OG-19.jpg

When it was just me and I felt like I was alone in the world I would do things without even thinking about the consequences. Now I know that if I do things my family will suffer and I don’t want to put them through that. I don’t want to disappoint them. Having people that love and depend on me makes me think two or three times before jumping into action. I never thought I’d be in this role but I love it. Man life is short so get out there and enjoy yourself, leave your mark and live the best life.

I still have nightmares about the things that I’ve seen, done and been through. I’ve done things that I’ll take with me to the grave. I’ve seen shit that’s been burnt into my brain. You can’t unsee the shit that I’ve seen and like I said that shit does something to you. I’ve seen things that people that have been in wars haven’t even seen. I can’t undo the things that I’ve done so I’ve come to terms with them and I let the following generations know that this street life ain’t nothing to fuck with. 

My Marble

Mortal Man DKirkman

MORTAL MAN

MY MARBLE

BY: DAWAYNE KIRKMAN

This is a personal story of mine that I like to share with my friends. Maya Angelou said “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” I hope in some small way, it can inspire hope. Dumbo said it best, “The very things that held you down are going to carry you up.” 

I grew up in Elkton, Kentucky (one hour north of Nashville). My dad had a drinking problem (that is probably the most polite term that I can use to describe his situation) and was forced to go to a detox center after many arrests. I was in third or fourth grade during this time. We would go visit my dad after church on Sundays at Western State in Hopkinsville, Kentucky during those weeks of his mandatory stay. When he arrived at the rehab facility, he had been given a marble which represented sobriety. No more drinking allowed if he wanted to keep it. He could keep it in his pocket as long as he did not ever drink alcohol again.

_AP21941.jpg

 
My mother (my hero), my sister (three years older than me), and I all found those Sunday conversations to be initially awkward, as we were not used to talking to a sober Stanley. But each Sunday, he would be so excited to pull his marble out of his pocket. As the weeks passed, we also got excited to see his beautiful marble. He finished the program and we all went to Bonanza to eat and went to look at new trailers. It was a new beginning!

However, after being away from his siblings and other family for weeks, he naturally wanted to visit them. They loved the fun loving, drinking Stanley. We begged him not to go as we were afraid he would drink, but we were unsuccessful in our plea. Very shortly after arriving at his brother’s house, my dad started drinking beer and it just got worse from there on.

_AP21951.jpg


I remember after he drank several beers he threw the marble across the field, cussing at it and laughing. It seemed like everyone was laughing at it. My mom, sister, and I were devastated though. The next day my dad, in a very hung-over condition, went to that field to look for that marble that he so easily let go of the day before. I could tell his heart was broken from literally throwing it all away. Even as a child, I knew he would not be able to find that marble in that big field, physically or mentally. But, I did find that marble. Maybe not literally, but I did find it and I have carried it for years. 


The last time I saw my dad alive, he was in jail on Christmas in 1995. My dad took his life in 1996 when I was twenty years old and a junior at Berea College. I always promised to carry that marble for my dad. Sometimes we have to carry things for our family who are unable to do so. He was an alcoholic, yet I have never had a beer or been drunk or done illegal drugs. He did not graduate from high school, yet I am finishing up my dissertation at the University of Dayton. He did not work, yet I have been working at Sinclair Community College for almost 16 years. He did not go to church; I have been a Sunday School teacher for more than 18 years.

_AP21966.jpg

I am NOT a better man than my father; I have just been a blessed man. And, it has been an honor to have had the opportunity to carry a marble for a man that I will forever owe for getting me to this earth—even though I hardly knew him. When I get to my heaven, I will hug his neck and say “no apologies needed, Dad” and grab his hand and give him his marble back and declare we made it. 

_AP21964.jpg
I share this story as often as I can to encourage people—to know that they may have to carry the marble for a person that they love.
— Dawayne Kirkman
_AP21938.jpg

Meet drummer: Johnny Radelat

DSC_4828.jpg

I sat down with drummer Johnny Radelat before he took the stage with Gary Clark Jr. and the rest of the band at Cincinnati’s Taft Theatre and asked him a few questions.

Aaron Paschal: It’s great seeing you again! I appreciate you taking the time to sit down and talk with me and CincyMusic! 

As a musician and drummer to be specific, do you notice that everything in life has some type of rhythm or pattern to it?

Johnny Radelat: Yes! I can turn on the turn signal in my car and find myself hearing the rhythm of the blinkers. As a drummer there’s always a pop, pop, pop, pop going on in my head so I’m unable to turn that off. Everything has a rhythm to it and sometimes it can be annoying but that’s how I know I love what I do

AP: I read somewhere that you’re a big Sheila E. fan; can you tell us a little bit about that?

JR: There’s so many female drummers and I seem to like all of the good ones! Shelia E. is one of my favorite drummers period and she’s actually going to be on Gary Clark Jr.’s new album when it drops so that’s something to be excited about.

AP: I also heard that Patrick Ewing is one of your favorite NBA players. Patrick Ewing? What’s up with that?

JR: I grew up in New Jersey so I’m a Knick’s fan and when I was coming up Patrick Ewing was the man so yeah, he’s my favorite player.

GCJ-7.jpg

AP: How did you come about linking up with Gary Clark Jr. and becoming part of his band?

JR: I knew Gary from playing local gigs in and around Austin, Texas. We all played together so for the first national tour we went on we all got together and had a thirty minute rehearsal and everything just clicked right off the bat. We just have this natural chemistry and we all get along really well which is about 60% of what it takes for any band to make it. And the way Gary approaches performing really keeps us on our toes because we are never really sure where he’s going to take it on any particular song throughout the set. Even though we pretty much perform the same songs night after night and know what’s coming up next on the set list Gary plays what he feels and we all vibe off of the crowd so the songs are played differently from show to show.

AP: You guys have toured all over the place. Is there a certain city or venue that stands out to you?

JR: There are certain cities that I love performing in but as far as the venue and setting I’d have to say that Red Rocks Amphitheater in Denver, CO is always great. We just did our first headliner there and it was amazing! That venue just has that natural and spiritual energy there. It’s beyond the musical history of the venue; Red Rocks is just amazing.

AP: I know you stay busy touring with Gary Clark Jr. but what other artists or projects are you involved with when time permits?

GCJ-13.jpg

JR: I toured with Robert Finley a couple of months ago and will be doing some on and off the road work with him in the near future. He is a stable artist for Dan Aurbachs (Black Keys) label. Dan produced and co-wrote on his record “Goin’ Platinum”… it’s a great album! Robert Finley has had a very interesting  journey to get where he is now and I encourage you guys to check him out.

AP: If you could jam with any artists “dead or alive” who would you like to sit in with?

JR: “Man!” (Laughs and pauses for a while.)  Well I’d have to play with Booker T. “who is one of my absolute favorites.” His style and stuff he did with Stax Records is one of my favorites of all time. Of course Bob Marley is one of the artists, I love the way he ran his band. This may sound kind of odd to you but I’d also love to jam with Iggy Pop and The Stooges due to their drum arrangements.

AP: Okay, last question; what’s the last album you listened to all the way through and what’s in your current rotation?

JR: Last night I listened to Pink Floyd’s - Animals album all the way through. I’ve also been on a Van Morrison kick lately.

My family is Cuban and now there’s a whole collection of pre 1950’s Cuban music that’s available that I’ve been listening to and soaking in lately. Up until now none of that music was available in digital format so you had to have it on vinyl or cassette.

Harlem River Drive is a rare album that’s nice and I’ve been listening to. It’s by Eddie Palmieri's super group, which was the first to really merge black and Latin styles and musicians.

DSC_4829-Edit.jpg

I also caught up with Johnny after the concert and asked him what they thought about playing at the Taft Theatre.

JR: We loved the old theatre venue and the very resonant onstage sound. We don’t usually play seated venues so when we started and saw that most of the floor was already standing in the aisles and ready to go it was a pleasant surprise. Very electric crowd for a mid-week show, Cincinnati definitely showed up!

DSC_4834.jpg

More about Johnny Radelat

Johnny Radelat is the drummer for Gary Clark Jr., He got his start playing in reggae, R&B, soul, and Funk bands. I first photographed him at afropunk Brooklyn in August of 2017 and later got a chance to meet him and take his portrait after their performance at the inaugural Bourbon and Beyond in Louisville later that same year. If you’re lucky enough to catch a live performance or even watch a YouTube video of Gary Clark Jr. you’ll find it hard to miss Johnny Radelat jamming out on his Gretsch drums and Sabian cymbals!

follow him on instagram: @johnnyradelat

A Man Is Not A Boy

_AP26338-Edit.jpg

Mortal Man

A Man is Not a Boy

by George Webb

A man is not a boy he makes things happen. He understands that struggles are temporary even when he can not see the light at the end of the tunnel. Fun doesn't come before the bills being paid. A man puts his business before his wants - he knows winters coming. Too many men are in the clubs obsessed with looking rich with fifty cents in their pockets. When are we going to be responsible? Michael Jackson told us years ago how to fix the problem; "you start with the man in the mirror."

_AP26351.jpg

A man doesn't point his finger at anyone, he stands on his own. Women love a responsible man, a God fearing man, a man that keeps a job more than eight months. A man that keeps a roof over his head. It's not the sex that counts - but the little things. Men lead by example. Spiritually we are the head of the household. Who is going to start leading today? Stop waiting until New Year's Eve parties to get it right. Who is going to make a change today? So men do yourself and the world a favor, do your families a favor and stop making excuses. A man is not a boy he makes things happen.

 

_AP26356.jpg

 

I wrote this piece to encourage our men. Even though the world is war torn it doesn't give us the right to ignore our responsibilities. We have to carry ourselves the correct way, take care of our families. Be firm in our convictions. Don't just talk the talk, BE the talk. Everyone goes through hard times it's a part of life. I know what it feels like to take a step forward only to be knocked three steps back. It's not easy and was never meant to be. The world is trying to break us. We must take a stand and overcome every obstacle. That all starts with us. We can move mountains together if we work together. 

 
_AP26354.jpg

George Webb

A Man Is Not A Boy

twitter: @georgeadamwebb

instagram: @corporategeorge

facebook: George A Webb & corporategeorge

snapchat: @followmymoves

 

vision quest

roof-4.jpg

it seems like every fall for the past few years i've made a point to kind of unplug from the world and get lost in my own personal hopes and dreams. to spend time on things in my personal and business life that i've put on the back burner in order to take care of everyone else.

this past saturday morning i grabbed a couple of my cameras and headed out to get lost. somehow i ended up on a rooftop in downtown dayton where i took in the views, snapped a few pictures and more importantly had a long conversation with myself. i thought about where i am in life versus where i want/need to be. i thought about changes/enhancements that i want to make with my brand, relationships in my life that i need to either nurture or bring to an end. i visualized my photography book, came up with a deadline to bring all of the images together, planned personal projects that will both challenge and enhance my current skillset... like i said, "i had a long conversation with myself!"

on the rooftop i gave my imagination freedom to roam without interruption or judgement. i enjoyed the morning breeze, i reconnected with myself. being alone on that rooftop provided me personal time and space that has eluded me for quite sometime. i'm rejuvenated and excited about where i'm headed in life. winter is coming... i plan on bringing the heat! 

durand jones and the indications

MOtr pub - cincinnati oh

IMG_9596.JPG

i was introduced to durand jones and the indications music by my dude mike while digging through vinyl at omega records “my home away from home.” through the years mike has picked up on my taste of music which is quite similar to his so he always hits me with suggestions when i’m looking for something new. the self-titled album is hard to describe other than soulfully dope. perfect for vibing out and getting lost in yourself as well as with that special someone.

IMG_9589.JPG

when the opportunity to photograph their show at motr pub in cincinnati came up I jumped on it and i am so glad that i did! the venue gives you that close intimate feel and durand jones and the indications killed it. if they come your way I definitely suggest going to see them and if you haven’t heard their album check it out and let me know what you think!

you can view the full photo gallery here on cincymusic.

IMG_9595.JPG
IMG_9590.JPG
FullSizeRender.jpg

christina + corry

this thing called love

on august 5, 2017 i had the pleasure of documenting christina and corry’s love story at mt. carmel baptist church in cincinnati, oh.

there’s a certain art to capturing the “true” dynamics of a couple. creating a mood and atmosphere that allows them to relax and enjoy each other and show their true personality. lately there’s been a trend with wedding pictures that have couples disengaged with a cold stoic look on their face. well i’ve never been one to follow trends but this one baffles me. this is one of the happiest days of their lives! i love it when my couples wrapped in each others arm, interacting with each other and fully engaged -  leaving no doubt that they are indeed in love!

i was able to capture christina and corry's affection for one another at eden park and the cincinnati art museum “it’s always great when coupled set aside the proper amount of time for creative portraits!” in between their wedding ceremony and their reception. during this time they were greeted with congratulations from people at the park and due the relaxed environment and my approach to documenting love stories we were able to create some dope images that christina and corry will be able to cherish for a lifetime and pass down through generations.

be sure to subscribe to the blog to see our next love story or contact me at aaron@ap2photography to contact me about documenting your happily ever after!
— aaron paschal