brotherhood

Urban Diary

Christian

Mortal Man

Urban diary

By: Christian Richardson

Christian-2.jpg

untitled 01.

“Home,
is where the Hurt is...
A post circumstance perspective.
A perpetual predisposition
in a climate
too warm for winter,
too cold for love,
but just humid enough
to Hate ourselves...
The Heart of the city...
Leaving holes,
Where it kept beating,
our children
to the punch.
Our residents parked
permanently in gated
communities,
a rat race
Among boys.
trying to see who
can get nowhere
the fastest...
trying to see
how many burdens
they can carry in each casket.
The Gem city.
So much weight
on our shoulders
on the West side.
We always wanted to be
the closest thing
athlete.
The closest thing Dunbar.
A hometown hero,
A Colonel White parallel
between five oaks
and witch trials.
Where there is only enough rope
to hang on by a thread.
but just enough tree,
to be a raisin in the sun...”

 
Christian-9.jpg

Untitled 02.

“These bones...
are the Storm.
Surrounded on all sides,
imploding at all times.
and they just want to tell the Truth;
that the Silence
is just a calm
In a storm that will never settle...
That this Body of water.
will always remain 60% fluid identity.
That I will only ever know myself;
in waves.”

 
Christian-6.jpg

Untitled 03.

“It's dark here.
And
It always smells like yesterday
No matter how much
I thrift, throw, and tear
I am still very much a sheep
trapped in wolves clothing
attempting not
to swallow myself whole.
Meanwhile,
Holes
as big as my reflection.
Empty yet still full of shadows
tongue heavy
speaking a language
only winter could understand.
breathes deep...
In hell,
Or some other location
To be determined,
to be damned,
Or
to be diagnosed...
Exhale.
Escape....”

Christian-7.jpg
 
CHristian-1-3.jpg

Urban Diary

By: Christian Richardson

Son | Brother | Artist | Member of Underdog Academy | Nobody Important

You can keep up with Christian at:

instagram: @ c_rich123

twitter: @c_rich123

twitter: @underdogacademy

uapoetry.com

Christian and all of the members of Underdog Academy have participated in the Mortal Man series. On June 29, 2019 they will be hosting: Underdog Academy presents Broken English 101: “Stories Within the Margin” at thePNC Arts Annex - Theatre in Dayton, OH.In this installment of the Broken English series, UA dives into the vantage of the young black male in order to provide perspective on the culture, dialogue, and climate. With a UA only roster, come get to know the minds and the men behind Broken English. Get your tickets early and enjoy a full service bar with table service available! Seating is limited! Tickets available here.

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

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

A Eulogy: One Last Conversation with My Big Bruh

_AP21921-Edit.jpg

Mortal Man

A Eulogy: One Last Conversation with My Big Bruh

By: Karlos L. Marshall

At some point in our lives, most people are faced with an unexpected and possibly even a tragic death of a loved one. The process of healing looks different for all, but sharing one’s testimony publicly with others is largely a sign of recovery. A few years ago, the unforeseen death of my brother shook me to my core and I have largely been private about that experience and its impact since. It was his death that made me discern the truth and reality of mortality, legacy, and life’s purpose. This project is part of the ongoing healing process for me, as I have decided to share intimate details of our brotherhood with the world — that only our family members and closest friends have known.
— Karlos L. Marshall
_AP21913.jpg

I would like to just take this time to thank everyone for coming out and just to have one more conversation with my Big Bruh. Big Bruh, I would be remiss if I didn’t speak on your legacy, beliefs, and our experiences together amongst loved ones — on your celebration day. I’m just praying that my words could provide some level of justice to the life, in which you lived. Big Bruh, there are no words in the human diction that are capable of sorrow and suffrage of your loss.

When some individuals pass its unexpected. But you see — this here was unforeseen. It was unforeseen that we would not be afforded another opportunity of conversation — to cast a vision upon the present and future generations of all the children that bear our last name. It was unforeseen that I wouldn’t get another opportunity to call you on your way to work, as we oftentimes spoke about the plight of the Black community and creative avenues of change and upward-mobility for our people.

Big Bruh, it was unforeseen I wouldn’t be able to give you one more hug, one more backsided hand-slap that you thought was so cool. Big Bruh, it was unforeseen that we wouldn’t get to watch one more athletic event together. Or play one more game of one-on-one or horse even though I would mostly win.

_AP21920.jpg

But even when we played a few years ago, you played off of me because you said I couldn’t even shoot when we were growing up as kids. Big Bruh, it was unforeseen we would no longer get to reminisce on our own childhood — by watching our sons interact with one another; as you undoubtedly said it best: “they’re cousins, but more like brothers.”

It was unforeseen that the first day the world welcomed me — would be the same day I speak to you for the very last time 26 years later. “Happy Birthday Little Brother,” you texted me. I replied, “Appreciate it. Hope all is well with you and the kids.” You said “most def. Same to you.” Big Bruh, it was unforeseen that after many childhood years of endless nightly conversations — that those would be the last humble words we would ever speak to one another.

Big Bruh, it was unforeseen that we would never be able to relive and recreate the good ol’ days. We would no longer get to laugh at our oldest brother for throwing the baseball over the backstop from the outfield. It was unforeseen I would no longer get to crack jokes on you for always having ashy knees when we were growing up. Big Bruh, it was unforeseen that I would be standing here right now — telling you I would miss your jokes about how light-skinned dudes was out-of-style.

_AP21922.jpg

Big Bruh, do you recall telling me: how proud you were of me—after I got my master’s and bought my first house. A house that you went to take me to go see. You said, “you way ahead of the game Lil Bruh.” But you already knew, you were always the person I looked up to, as one person recently reminded me: “remember, I knew you when you were his Little Brother.”

Some called you “Truth.” I just called you Big Bruh. Big Bruh, growing up being able to say I was your Little Brother gave me a credential—that not even my own young hype could buy. Big Bruh, do you recall telling me that your daughter asked you: “is Uncle Karlos like my Daddy too?” You said, “no baby, but he’s like your Daddy when I’m not around.”

But that is one thing that I do know — is that you loved those kids. I’ve always attempted to try to emulate you and fill your shoes; something I still cannot do at this very moment, as I currently wear a pair of shoes that you once provided me.

_AP21878.jpg

But it would be unforeseen the seismic void you would leave. Big Bruh, if there’s one thing I knew, it’s that you loved those kids. Big Bruh: a Man of God, a Father, a Son, a Brother, an Uncle, a Nephew, a Grandson, a Cousin, a Best Friend, a Colleague, and a Man of the Community you were —— with a vision to take our people to see the world and see the world they will. Big Bruh, it was unforeseen that you would never get the opportunity to be my Best Man. For that — I will never have the privilege of having one; because my Best Man — that you still are.

Big Bruh, we choose to relish the way in which you lived, rather than ponder the ways in which you may have died. Big Bruh, you were one of the very best men I will ever meet. And it was a pleasure and honor to walk in your footsteps for as long as I have.

_AP21927.jpg

A fighter you were. You showed us that to your very last breath. Big Bruh, I know you have a great legacy because I still wear our last name proudly. I was your Little Brother then and I’m your Little Brother now. “Marshall Men: there are none stronger.” Ain’t that what you used to always tell me? Big Bruh, in the words of our favorite urban philosopher, “we gon’ be aight.”

In the true spirit of the African proverb—that it takes a village to raise a child, before you today brotha — is that village. We—will help raise your children. And Mom and Pops, also before you today is the village that helped deliver you second child to his righteoushome — for now — is your time to rest.

Big Bruh, it was and still is — unforseen, unimaginable, and incomprehensible — that my very first time being a pallbearer will be for you on this here very day. Big Bruh, that is the irony — for it is you—that has carried me, lifted me up, and propelled me forward to greatness — when I didn’t even know I possessed greatness in and of myself. That was the responsibility you felt to me your Little Brother. And for that — Big Bruh — I will forever love you!

Karlos L. Marshall

Educator | Civic Innovator | Brother

Founder of The Conscious Connect, INC.

Born and raised in the Champion City of Springfield, Ohio, Karlos L. Marshall has been recognized as an international thought leader at the intersections of urban education, civic innovation, and neighborhood revitalization. He has been named an honoree of the Forbes '30 Under 30' Class of 2019 and the International Literacy Association's '30 Under 30' Class of 2019. Through his nontraditional approaches, Mr. Marshall seeks to speak a world-class 21st Century cultural renaissance.

Hit Harder

Zack Cover

Mortal Man

Hit Harder

By: Zack Sliver

I was in Louisville, KY for my brother's bachelor party. We were at a bar and we split into two different groups. I was walking down the street and I noticed a woman being pulled and screamed at by two guys. Truthfully I knew if I kept walking away something bad would happen to this lady -  I also knew that if I intervened something bad was likely to happen to me, I still chose to intervene.

When I took up for the lady the guys started screaming and throwing punches at me. I know how to fight from being in the marines but I wasn't looking for a fight. I just wanted to help the the woman in distress. I pushed them off of me and said; "hey, I'm not trying to fight".  They started hitting me in the side of the head and I tried to protect myself and just get away.

Four more guys ran over and now there were six guys beating on me. The funny thing is that at first I thought they were going to help me. I  went down on the ground at one point and one of the guys picked me up and started choking me. Another guy was hitting me in the face. It was a benchmark moment in my life, my vision was going in and out. I was like, "Is this really how I die? What are people going to think about me when I'm gone? What are people going to say when they find out I died? Will they think I just died in a fight in Louisville? Will they know that I stood up for somebody and that I was trying to do the right thing in the face of evil?"

_AP29272.jpg

I took off running - some random guy was chasing me. He was trying to help me but I wasn't sure so I pushed him away. I fell, got up and started crawling away but was  grabbed by the back of my hair and hit in the side of the head, caving my skull in. My equilibrium was gone. I didn't recognize that until I was running full speed down the street. I remember thinking, "why can't I keep my balance ?" I was covered in blood and fell down. The guy that tried to help me ran up to me but I wasn't sure who he was or what he was trying to do so I tried to fight him. He said, "no I'm trying to help you!" He grabbed my phone and the lady that I tried to help scooped up my glasses and handed them to me. I remember just lying there bleeding.

I called my brother and told him that I needed him. He came over and a police officer called an ambulance. I refused to take  an ambulance because of the price so my friends Josh Boone and Cory DD Miller got me to the hospital. They were in the waiting room while I had my cat scan and stayed and kept me company until I was transferred to the next hospital. The whole group met up at the University of Louisville Hospital to support me and make sure that I made it through surgery okay.

The nurses and doctors didn't believe what happened, they thought I was drunk because I was slurring my words. I told them, "No! I only had two beers in four hours, I'm not drunk. My skull is messed up!' They told me to go in the next room and take a nap. I told them that I was sweating, that I didn't feel right and that I didn't think that everything was going to be fine." They continued to tell me that I would be fine after a nap. It took me screaming at the top of my lungs for them to give me a cat scan - that's when they realized that my skull was caved in.

image3.jpg

I was leaking brain fluids and it was mixing with the air. They finally got the results and took me to the University of Louisville Hospital. I talked to my mom while I was being transported in the ambulance and told her everything. It was just - it was hard. I remember right before going into brain surgery; my brother and my best friend Brett were so jovial they made me feel like everything was going to be  alright. They were joking about one of the doctors working on a patient, (Dr. Potts working on Mr. Himp) they kept laughing about that which made me laugh even harder.

image1.JPG

Truthfully when I woke up, I felt like a different person. Not in a bad way, not like I didn't know who I was or who anyone else was. I just knew that I was completely going to have a different life than before. I made a choice to help somebody. I feel like if I went into that with adverse intentions, like "oh, I just wanted to look cool in front of this woman" that I wouldn't have made it out. The fact that I tried to do the right thing - and I did do the right thing helped me through.  

After my surgery I had a lot of complications with the V.A. Hospital. Eleven days went by and they still had not called me like they were supposed to. That's where the struggle came from. I got different doctors but still wasn't getting the treatment or medication that I needed. It's like, "This is not a football injury from ten years ago, I just had brain surgery. I need physical therapy, I need all these things and will you please help me?" They didn't for quite some time. 

_AP29265.jpg

I had to teach myself how to walk again - my equilibrium wasn't coming back fast enough. I would walk the stairs at my parent's house, I would get up and just shake my head. I'd fall or feel like I was going to. The following four months I literally just watched the X-Files and other shows and slept. I was hospitalized a few times from getting fevers. It was just challenging.

What's really cool about the entire thing is anytime I've helped somebody I've done it out of the kindness of my heart. I'd never do big inspiring stuff, I'd never do turkey giveaways for anybody just for me to be like, "Oh, I hope if I ever get hurt somebody is going to help me." 

This girl Jessica Jones started a Gofundme account for me while I was in the hospital.  It raised almost six grand ($5,500) that took care of five months of my bills. I called her about two weeks into the Gofundme campaign, "it's supposed to last about a month" and asked her to stop it. She was like, "What? Why would you do that?" I told her I appreciated it but this is going to get me through four/five months and I feel like in that time I can recover from brain surgery.  At the same time people assume that I had brain surgery a year ago. When I tell them that it's only been roughly six months they're kind of bewildered that i'm not just lounging and trying to heal. 

_AP29163.jpg

Going back to work was hard. Especially when it's loud. I wait tables and I'm still a little deaf in my left ear. People make a lot of jokes about it. They'll be like, "you're deaf in your left ear and you work in a bar? How can you hear?" They're jerks. I get dizzy often and they say I might get seizures. I still wouldn't trade it for anything. I can only imagine how bad I would feel if I didn't help that lady that night and she ended up hurt or dead while I was somewhere drunk in a bar.

When the lady handed me my glasses, she kept thanking me. She told me I was so nice and she couldn't believe what happened to me. I remember posting about this online telling people that I was healing. A guy that I was stationed with in Japan messaged me asking "What are you doing for justice?" Justice? I remember thinking; "can I learn how to walk first?" They are never going to find the guys, they're never going to. I’m alright with that. Louisville Police – I’m pretty sure they let them go that night. They almost arrested my friends for telling them to do their jobs. I don't think it's that's hard to do your job. I've had a badge and a gun before and I did my job. I left the detective a voicemail and sent him pictures of where everything took place. He didn't even call me back. 

_AP29229.jpg

Even when I was in the ambulance I was thinking about how I was supposed to play a show that Sunday. I remember texting the guy and telling him that I didn't know if I was going to be able to play. I think that's so funny because I thought they were just gonna wrap my head, give me some Tylenol, and I would just gonna go home. All of the doctors and nurses - everyone at the University of Louisville Hospital were phenomenal, they were just amazing. I remember this doctor looking at me and telling me about how they were going to cut me. I was thinking, "Oh! This got serious." I was supposed to start the end of my junior year of college and also begin interning for a judge that Monday. So I was like; "you're telling me that I can't do these things? I can't do the things that make me feel like anything is possible? I can't continue my career? I can't continue these things?" That part of it was demoralizing.

Learning to walk again was pretty cool. The guy who woke me up in morning looked like Dana Carvey, it could've been the pain meds, but it could've been Dana Carvey. I don't know if he moonlights as a nurse or RN. I might've told him that, which could've made him laugh a bit.

_AP29260.jpg

If I talked to the people that did this to me I would tell them that they didn't win. I might even thank them, not physically thank them but in a weird way I think it was the best thing that has ever happened to me. I feel like it opened my eyes and gave me a new pair of glasses. I still experience pain from my injuries and I have trouble formulating sentences. Those things aren't going to hold me back from doing the things I need to and want to do. I would just tell them "you didn't win and next time HIT HARDER." Well... maybe I wouldn't tell them to hit harder, "that's a joke from the marine corps.

I've had people who didn't like me. I've been in fights before and if a person hit the ground, you don't hit them while they were down.  It took six grown men to beat up on one man that stood up for a woman. They kind of gave me a glimpse of what women have to deal with. I have two sisters and tragic things have happened to them. It makes me wonder what women have to deal with on the regular basis? Not just people saying stupid things to them as they walk down the street. To have a man grabbing a woman and nobody on the street says anything but me? I'm not the best man in the world, man of the year - or any of that but I know to not put my hands on a woman.

 

 

_AP29277.jpg

Zack Sliver

Hit Harder

Marine Veteran + Student + Singer & Guitarist of Yuppie

instagram: @zack_sliver

facebook: Zack Sliver

website: theyuppiemusic.com

band instagram: @theyuppiemusic

Memories Live...

_AP26419-Edit.jpg

Mortal Man

Memories Live

By: Dan Tres Omi

While I did not have a father, I had a diverse group of elders who made sure I stayed on the path I still continue to travel. They were stern and wise. They gave no quarter. They loved hard and disciplined harder. They were fathers and husbands. They were community leaders and they led by example. They were not perfect and it is their imperfection that made me realize that I could be better than them.

Upon their transition, I never imagined I would utter those words. However, they told me several times that we stand on the shoulders of our ancestors. That we are our ancestors wildest dreams: to be better than what they were on every conceivable level. That idea sounds far fetched. To some, this could even be sacrilege. How could we be better than those before us?

_AP26421.jpg

Even as a child, I always wanted to be the parent that my Uncle Fe was. I never heard him yell at anyone. If one of us got in trouble, he would plead with us to do right. That always fascinated me. While other adults would yell, cuss, threaten, or provide corporal punishment, Uncle Fe would urge us to do right. Without any abuse, he made us feel guilty for screwing up. He was very encouraging and always explained to me how amazing I was and of my potential to do much better. I never wanted to dissappoint him. He showered all of his children with love and affection. I rarely saw that and was also amazed by him. He lost his battle with cancer and everyone was devastated by it. His standard as a parent has never been forgotten and while I have failed so many times, I shall always endeavor to meet it.

_AP26413.jpg
Speaking through the voices of the spirits speaking to me, I think back in the day, I absorbed everything like a sponge. Took a plunge into my past to share with my son.
— Talib Kweli/Reflection Eternal - Memories Live "from the Train of Thought album"

I met Brother George when I moved to Norfolk, Virginia after being discharged from the Navy. He owned a book store on 35th Street. With a group of men around my age, we started a book/Black History club there. Many of us were members and leaders of local community groups. Brother George and I quickly developed a long relationship as mentor/mentee. My eldest son affectionately called his store “The Black Man's Store,” and always asked when we would return to it. Brother George was my plug for bean pies and he would call me as soon as he got a new shipment in. He knew me before I was married and watched my family grow. As he became older and began cancer treatments due to his exposure to Agent Orange while serving in Vietnam, he asked me to take over the store. I was honored but immediately refused. I knew that I could never fill his shoes. I knew that the work he did for our community was one that many hands had to do. When he passed away, a void was left in my heart. Our entire community was rocked by his passing. As a community activist, he made it clear that he was always willing to serve in whatever capacity he could. As community worker, I use his example as a mission statement.

_AP26388.jpg

I met Baba Varner through my very good friend, Seko. The thing about the entire Varner clan was that they took me and my wife in as family even before we had children. Baba Varner was a life long activist and minister. Over the years, I have met several of his mentees, students, and congregants who he has had a positive impact on. Baba Varner was amazing. He had the best stories of growing up, going to college, and fighting for Civil Rights. He was strong in every way. In every aspect, I learned so much from him. I recall him telling me that he was upset that he did not marry my wife and I. I vowed to let him “marry” us on our 10th anniversary. He passed away before this happened.

All these men set several standards for me. One of their lessons was in their transition. They made me ask the question: "how do we honor the actions of those who came before us and are no longer here?" How can we do that when they have done so much? I remember both Baba Varner and Brother George telling me: make your community a better place than it was before you inherited it. That is and will always be our marching orders. In this manner, we will honor them and their memories.

Ase! 

This is Part Three of Dan Tres Omi’s story. Click the links below to read the others.
_AP26422.jpg

Dan Tres Omi

Memories Live...

Son, Husband, Father, Teacher, Afro Latino B-Boy, Author, Capoeirista, T-shirt Model, Pro-Feminist, Hip Hop Diplomat

 

Keep up with Danny on social media...

instagram: @brothereromi

twitter: @DaTresOmi

podcast: Where My Killa Tape At soundcloud.com/dantresomi

medium: @DanTresOmi

 

Leave comments here to keep the conversation going, to offer words of encouragement or to share your story.

LORE

_AP27647-Edit.jpg

Mortal Man

Lore

by: Ty Greenwood

Currently, my work centers on toxic Black Masculinity and the negative representation of Black Men in media, television & film and other visual rhetorics. I argue that Black Males are voiceless and invisible, groomed not to ever show their emotions, groomed into a vision of hyper-masculinity heightened by the media, but even more so by their own environment. Therefore, it is time for an INTERVENTION and BLACK REVOLUTION that showcases positive portrayals of Black men that are not damaging to their identity, existence and Black bodies. The associations built around masculinity include: white, powerful, heterosexual, college educated, upper class, strong, tough, aggressive, sexually dominant, ripped body and the list goes on and on. This concept has shaped and molded the way Black men are viewed and the unrealistic standards conjured by white people.

_AP27657.jpg

The Black male experience today has become one inflicted with fear imposed by the seemingly never ending police killings of Black men. Black men are at risk. The same qualities and values that white people have placed on Black masculinity are the same ones killing them today. Black men can’t breathe, walk down the street, go into a convenience store without being feared, followed and or killed. Black bodies are adding up. The qualities of being aggressive, thugs, criminals, ghetto, uneducated, drug dealers, sexual assaulters, professional athletes, sex symbols, the Black muscular body,  deadbeat fathers and unprofessional, are just few of the commonly publicized descriptions in today’s media and various other forms of rhetoric. Thus, when it comes to the Black performance it is nothing more than a minstrel puppet show that is being composed by white people and sold to white audiences who buy into a false sense of what being a Black man really is. It is time for this to end. How many more Black bodies have to be sacrificed for it to really mean something?

Black men can no longer be a sacrifice and killed off senselessly and carelessly. Who will protect the innocent Black boy who is walking down the street to the candy store? Who will protect the innocent Black boy who goes to college and must deal with all the white faces that don’t understand him? Who will protect the innocent Black men when the white cops who are suppose to protect them murder them in cold blood and leave their bodies on the street for all to see? WHO WILL PROTECT OUR BLACK MEN? 

_AP27637.jpg

 

An excerpt from my short play, “LORE”:

 

DAD:  So, what color is Sasha’s dress?

JR.: It’s an African print dress. 

DAD:  African print? She ain’t African, hell she barely black!

JR.:  Dad!

DAD:  What?

Jr.: turns his back to his dad and approaches the clerk’s desk

CLERK:  Hi, can I help you?

JR.:  Yes.  A pick up for Jeffrey Cole Jr. 

The clerk goes to the back. He comes back with a long dashiki in a gourmet bag. 

 DAD:  What the hell is that?

JR.:  It’s called a dashiki, dad.

DAD:  A what? That’s a damn dress!

CLERK:  The dashiki is a colorful garment for men widely worn in West Africaand other parts of Africa as well.

DAD:  Sir, I know what a dashiki is, I grew up in the 70’s but this is a damn dress! I’m not paying for that shit! Jr. you’re suppose to wear a suit to prom. A tailored, fitted suit.

JR.:  Dad it’s not a dress. Just think of it as a long t-shirt. And look it even comes with pants.

DAD:  A long t-shirt? This is prom not a sleepover. And if that’s what you’re planning I can tell you right now Sasha ain’t gonna give up nothing with you in that shit.  Uh-Uh. Excuse me, sir? Where are your suits?

CLERK:  We have suits over to your left, but we wouldn’t be able to have it tailored in time for your son’s prom. I’m sorry sir.

JR.:  Dad would you stop embarrassing me?

DAD:  Embarrassing you? Jr. you’re embarrassing me! Picking out a damn costume to wear to prom. What the hell is wrong with you?

JR.:  It’s not a costume, dad, it goes with Sasha's African dress.

DAD:  Why the hell are you two even wearing this African shit? Ain’t neither of you African. Let me guess, you saw it on tv.

JR.:  Dad this is in style! They wore these back in your day!

DAD:  Back in my day men wore suits to proms and formal, son. Hell a tux even. But this shit here, NO!

JR.:  What is the big deal?

DAD:  The big deal is that you don’t understand the purpose of tradition. You leave out of the house everyday wearing pants off your ass and clothes too big for even me but tonight of all nights you’re supposed to look like you have some sense. We have family coming over and I am supposed to sit there and just smile while you come down stairs looking like the Prince of Zamunda? I’m not paying for that. I trusted you to come to the store, pick out something sensible, didn’t even give you a price limit because this is your day…

JR.:  If it’s my day then why are you trying to control everything?

DAD:  Jr., listen to me, you are going to wear a suit to this prom. We can pick out a dress shirt to go with your black suit at home. And we can find a nice tie.

JR.:  Dad that’s not want Sasha wants. She wanted us to wear/

DAD:  I don’t give a damn what she wanted. It’s not happening!

JR.:  But Dad/

DAD:  I’m not paying for you to wear some dress to look like a little bitch Jr. If you want it, you pay for it.

_AP27655.jpg
This is the third and final entry in Ty’s three part series. The others can be read by clicking on the following links:
_AP27653.jpg

Ty Greenwood

I Danced With Death

Writer, Poet, Actor, Director, Teacher, Student… MULTIFACETED

twitter: @ty_greenwood

instagram: greenwood26

facebook: Ty Greenwood

email: greenwoodet26@gmail.com

"please be sure to comment below to continue the conversation, offer words of encouragement or to share your story."

A Dream

_AP27617-Edit.jpg

Mortal Man

A Dream

by: Ty Greenwood

I dreamed a dream lately

That they really see me,

That they really feel me,

That they won’t forget me

That they won’t kill me

Can you even hear me?

I dreamed a dream lately

That I truly matter

My Black life matters

That they don’t hate me, the Black rooted in me

That they learn to like me and appreciate me

(Yeah)

I can’t see what they see, but I know it’s not me

I gotta get this degree and be all that I can be

See, I can’t look back and say “what if”, FUCK THAT

I can’t look back and be stiff, FUCK THAT

Their conspiracy, I am the victim of subjectivity

It’s clearer lately, they’ll try to break me

Then turn around and praise me

I hope they really see me and that they don’t forget me

Please don’t kill me

I dreamed this dream lately

(Yeah)

I dreamed this dream lately

Ty Greenwood

I wrote this with one of my best friends, Passion, during our final semester of undergrad. I just heard the beat and then I started thinking about what I wanted to say. “I dreamed this dream lately,” came to mind. At the time I was directing my own original play, “This Kind of HATE,” which centered on issues of police brutality, race, interracial relationships, politics and media. It seemed like almost every other day there was something on the news about a young Black person being killed or beaten by the police. Part of this is where my inspiration came from to write my verse on the track. I began to think about all the dreams those Black people must have had and how they would never get a chance to see them come true. How the world never really got to see who they were. I feel in ways this was a cry out of anger, pain and hope.

_AP27606.jpg

Passion and I would often sit in the studio and reflect on the fact that we were two young Black kids from “the hood” that were about to graduate from college...something that statistically tells us that we wouldn’t. Talking about how far we had come never got old. All of the late nights and early mornings were worth that moment when our name was read and we walked across that stage to be handed our degree. Lord knows it wasn’t an easy road by any means. My first year, I wanted to transfer from Washington & Jefferson College (W&J), but two mentors of mine, Auntie Ketwana Schoos and Devan Carrington convinced me to stay and promised to have my back over the next three years. If it wasn’t for them I’m not sure I would’ve stayed. I can say I’m glad I did. My four years at W&J were definitely some of the best years of my life. I accomplished more than I could have ever imagined I would. Knowing I left a mark, a legacy and an impact on the campus reassured me that I had something to give to the world.

_AP27629.jpg
This is part two of Ty’s three part story. Click the link below to read the others.
 
_AP27623.jpg

Ty Greenwood

I Danced With Death

Writer, Poet, Actor, Director, Teacher, Student… MULTIFACETED

twitter: @ty_greenwood

instagram: greenwood26

facebook: Ty Greenwood

email: greenwoodet26@gmail.com

"please be sure to comment below to continue the conversation, offer words of encouragement or to share your story."

I Danced With Death

cover

Mortal Man

I Danced With Death

by: Ty Greenwood

Ty’s story will be shared in three parts with I Danced With Death being the first.

I Danced with Death:

 I Danced with Death

I Danced with Death for four days and nights

But we went our separate ways

See, I had thangs to do

And Death didn’t understand that it wasn’t my time yet

What I thought was only four hours, turned into four days

And baby that was too long

There were people counting on me

I had to get back

Death and I got into a fight

Needless to say

I came out alive

But something tells me

Death and I haven’t had our last dance

_AP27580.jpg

I guess it is not everyday that a healthy, fit, 21-year-old college athlete is told, “Ty, it appears that you have stage-4 critical chronic kidney disease, and your kidneys are functioning at about 10 percent. You will need a kidney transplant to save your life.”

I mean, here I was weeks away from finishing my sophomore year at Washington & Jefferson College. I had just finished performing the lead role in our spring play, Eye of God, and celebrated my 21st birthday. Two weeks later I suffered a seizure caused by extremely high blood pressure and was taken by helicopter to UPMC Presbyterian Hospital, where I would spend four days unconscious in the ICU on a ventilator before waking up to my family surrounding the bed. For 10 days, I stayed in the hospital while many tests were performed to analyze my kidney function. However, through everything, I remained positive and determined to live my life… and I did.

_AP27574.jpg

After being released from the hospital, I picked up where I left off with my life. I had applied to a program called Breakthrough Teaching in San Francisco, California to teach 7th, 8th and 9th grade English and writing. I was chosen as one of the 23 Teaching Fellows to attend the program. It was always one of my dreams to visit California, and this was going to be the perfect opportunity. As if that was not exciting enough, an even bigger dream of mine had always been to travel to London to study theatre arts. During my sophomore year, I applied to study abroad at St. Mary’s University in Twickenham, England, and I was accepted! I was going to London for a whole semester! Yes, I had just been diagnosed with stage-4 kidney disease, and yes, my kidney function was at 10 percent and falling, but I was not worried. I told my doctors, “I’m going to live my life and if I die, I’m going to die LIVING.”

My summer was gearing up to be very busy, as I also had an eight-week apprenticeship at KDKA (CBS) TV-News studios in Pittsburgh to complete. I worked hard for each of my opportunities, and I had come too far not to take advantage. Four days after finishing at the news station, it was off to London for my semester abroad. London was life changing! I went to see over ten theatre productions and I loved every second of my classes. One class I took was screenwriting and it was during this class that my love for writing and wanting to create stories really began to blossom. I wrote a ten-minute short film script that was made and entered into the British Film Festival. I was able to learn about new ways to approach writing, the process of pitching story ideas, constructing a creative pack and editing my work.

_AP27596.jpg

Two weeks before I was supposed to return home from London that I began became very sick. I was not able to keep food down, and I had gained weight due to water retention. Sadly, I left London early. I returned home a few days before Christmas, and soon after, checked in with my kidney doctor to have blood work done. I was extremely tired over the course of the next week through Christmas. I was so exhausted; I ignored a number of calls, including my doctor’s office trying to get ahold of me to tell me that my hemoglobin (blood count) was very low. I had to go to the hospital to receive a blood transfusion immediately. Over the next eight days, I was told that my levels were so bad that I was breaking records—and not in a good way. I had to begin dialysis immediately to clean out the toxins in my body. The beginning of treatment was rough to say the least.

About a week later, my older brother Lance came into my room and told me that he found out he was a blood match and could give me one of his kidneys. The amazing part about this is that I am adopted, and my blood type is O-positive, which means that I could only accept a kidney from someone who is O-positive. Lance and I are not blood brothers, but as far as the transplant was concerned, we were. I was filled with an abundance of emotions and relief. The surgery was confirmed to take place on Thursday, February 18, 2016. It was a success and after two weeks (a normal recovery time is six weeks), I returned to college and attended classes and rehearsals for the upcoming spring play in April.

 
This is the first essay in a three part series by Ty. Please click the links below to read the others:
_AP27598.jpg

Ty Greenwood

I Danced With Death

Writer, Poet, Actor, Director, Teacher, Student… MULTIFACETED

twitter: @ty_greenwood

instagram: greenwood26

facebook: Ty Greenwood

email: greenwoodet26@gmail.com

"please be sure to comment below to continue the conversation, offer words of encouragement or to share your story."

what is woman?

leroy bean

this guest blog is by leroy bean, author of the love and theory of womanology. 

what is woman-95.jpg

a spoken word poet  from dayton, ohio starting my new artistic journey as leroy bean. after being apart of underdog academy for over 2 years, i have had the opportunity to perform at many colleges and universities such as ohio state university, ohio dominican university, university of cincinnati and more. i was the 2017 litfest poetry slam winner for the university of dayton and was chosen to be published in both their orpheus and writ literary magazines. i am the host of the underdog academy's expressions open mic and now i am finally releasing my second chapbook - the love and theory of womanology.

this complete project includes a chapbook with 37 poems, including a 7 poem series, 16 haiku's, and a pantoum. also includes an audio book that isn't your traditional read along on tape. the audio book is all put together over instrumentals to provide a completely separate experience from the chapbook itself even though the poems have not changed. one gives you room to implement your own imagination and the other sits you in the center of my imagination and feel for the project as a whole and the individual poems.  i've always approached my poems from a different perspective; creating story's or satirical poems to get my point across.

what is woman-29.jpg

in december 2016 I was inspired by music, conversation, and just consistent signs pointing me down this path to create a chapbook dedicated to woman. after reaching a new point on this journey for developing a better understanding for love and compassion for all life, i realized that i have been blinded by my male privilege. from the experience as a black male in america, i have witnessed oppression first hand and was able to transfer that comprehension to the relationship between man and woman. it was made clear to me how much of a habit sexism was alone and although i did not install this way of thinking on my own, it is still my responsibility to recognized my mistakes in order to grow as a human. this lead me to build a chapbook, metaphorically giving woman the power that was bestowed upon men, "in the beginning", with genesis by characterizing god as a woman that not just created but gave birth to the universe. also emphasizing on the characteristics that woman are deemed weak for, such as their love and support. also bringing important woman characters to the forefront such as mother nature, eve, and the roll of "the mother" in american society.

what is woman-68.jpg

upon the ending of the books creation it dawned on me that if i really wanted to help influence as much of the community as possible then I would have to bring the book to life. this lead to the event, "what is woman?" where I teamed up with ap2 photography and ted's own big dave to help bring the vision to life; men using their platform to help bring shine to the woman's perspective and experience. although this is a release event for my new chapbook, the book is far from being the face of the event. this premium art experience showcases nothing but the strength and struggles of women. using the power of art and it's influence on people, we dedicated paintings and photo shoots to the diverse beauty of woman and counter the countless shaming that society puts on women that don't fall within it's standards. what is woman? showcases female vendors and performers to portray the wide-range of talent that women have. It will be held in a business owned by a woman to show their strength and intelligence. what is woman? will challenge the audience with that very title by having a panel discussion to assure that the voice of the woman is heard. even if it is only in front of 50 to 100 people, i know it will still be effective because at the end of the day, communication leads to solutions and  seeds will get planted to initiate a ripple of change in the minds of the future. 

IMG_1438 2.PNG

what is woman will take place satuday, september 2 at third perk coffeehouse & wine bar in downtown dayton, ohio at 7:00pm. tickets are limited and are available to purchase on eventbrite, “includes the option to preorder the book as well.” 

cleavon by prophessorx

merely a man

_AP21098.jpg

last night i had the honor and pleasure of attending my brother – cleavon’s (known to many as x or prophessorx) book release launch at third perk coffeehouse & wine bar in dayton, oh. to say that I’m proud of x would be an understatement. i’ve been fortunate enough to witness and observe a lot of growth and confidence in x as a man as well as in his poetry and writings.

the chapbook is titled: cleavon by prophessorx and consists of 20 different poems/haikus that are captivating, powerful, unapologetic and emotional. x performed a selection of these writings in front of a crowd of family, friends and fans of his work leaving them inspired and eager for more.

_AP21078-Edit.jpg

If you are interested in purchasing a physical or ecopy of the book “which i highly recommend,” you can do so on his website proph3ssorx.com or by contacting him directly at proph3ssorx@icloud.com.

DSCF2500-Edit-Edit.jpg

follow x on his website: proph3ssorx.com on instagram @proph3ssorx and on soundlcoud.

_AP21122-Edit.jpg
there’s a destiny that makes us brothers; no one goes their way alone. all that we send into the lives of others comes back onto our own.
— brotherhood