McFerrin Park Has Always Been Home

Communities are often defined by geographical boundaries and socioeconomic factors such as education and profession. In re-gentrifiying communities such as McFerrin Park certain folks tend to highlight the distinction between “the haves and the have nots”. Leading one to believe that there is no history and or relevance of the community neighborhood that is not shaped by White DINKs (dual income, no kids) and real estate investors. However, if you take a closer look (and listen) to the experiences of the diverse residents in McFerrin Park you will learn about real people with histories, some distinct and others quite familiar. Before there was an interest in Saving the Roxy Theater, there were Black parents that walked their children to and from the neighborhood schools. There were Black male coaches with booming voices directing young boys in the fundamentals of football. There were children inundating McFerrin Park Community Center for pro-social activities and outings. Working parents picked up infants from the child care center at Salvation Army’s Magness Potter Center while teens crowded the same building for leadership opportunities and help with homework and senior citizens gathered in a safe space. There were immigrant and refugee families learning new cultural norms while preserving their own. There were foster parents and halfway homes that provided some type of permanence for those in need. And always, there have been grandparents and elders on front porches with a knowing eye for “who belongs around here” and “who is here to cause trouble”. McFerrin Park is a community neighborhood of working, non-working and retired people, native born and transplants from other cities, artists and stay at home parents, social workers and entrepreneurs. It is a community neighborhood whose residents are inclusive and cautious and hopeful. Hopeful that as the property values increase, the real value of McFerrin Park will remain in its racially and economically diverse people and their willingness to appreciate that all of us do not share the same story but all of our stories are worth telling and documenting. McFerrin Park has always been home.

Ear Hustling on Race and Class

Allow me to set the stage. Neighborhood coffee spot, laptops and Ipads open and casual banter about what's keeping us busy (us: Stan, African American man and yours truly), updates on Manchild (his and mine) and then on to our business of serving and saving our African American community which included generational experiences of extended family, the role of Black men in parenting their children especially males when they are not in the same household with their mothers and as my brother Stan says being unapologetic about all of it. Cue Travis (White American man) sitting beside us and ear hustling. Later, we would learn that he was studying for the bar. Travis took advantage of a pause and asked if he could ask us a question.  I noticed that he did not wait for an affirmative response before posing the question- first observation. Or maybe he did receive an affirmative nod from Stan. Either way, I immediately started smiling and holding my hands. I did not want to discuss the Zimmerman verdict, period. In fact, I've avoided that conversation in several arenas this week. Trust and believe, I have my reasons.

His question was related to if we would attribute the differences in the African American community to a generational shift. Travis politely explained that he wasn't listening to our conversation and proceeded to refer to specific examples of generational experiences that both Stan and I discussed- second observation.  Let me say that I was so grateful that this was an experience I shared with Stan. Though Travis eventually got around to asking the Trayvon Martin question ("Do you think that Trayvon attacked Zimmerman?")  and a President Obama  question (third observation),  I welcomed the conversation that ensued from Travis' ear hustling. It provided an often avoided opportunity to discuss race and class across gender, race, and class bodies. I'm not making assumptions about Travis here- he shared that he went to school in Virginia and Nashville and is currently studying for the bar. He offered Charles Murray's Coming Apart for insights into White class beliefs. I also noticed that Travis was limited in what information he offered unless he was solicited. I inquired about the type of law he was pursuing, he shared tax law to start and offered a great self-diffusing comment about tax law killing cocktail conversations. The three of us continued on about race, class, and systems and legal gun ownership.  It was a conversation.

I won't wax poetic. I will say that I hope to meet more White folks that are willing to engage in an open conversation where my (and Stan's) differences are not threatening and we can see each other clearly. As Stan informed Travis, " I don't want you to be colorblind. This (pointing to his skin) is who I am."

Travis, if you read this, keep ear hustling and engaging folks that don't look like you and yours in conversation. I'd actually appreciate some honesty about the ear hustling, as in, "Excuse me, I was listening to your conversation and found some things you said interesting and in my circle I don't get the chance to talk with African American people."  Just don't be offended if they don't invite you in. Sometimes when a Standupbrothah and a Standupsistah are engrossed in a conversation in a public space, you may not be included. Unapologetically. 

Sister Harriet and the ITP/RFP

While dreaming of sister Harriet down by the intersection of estuaries and next steps, I dared to crossover. Now, I must forewarn, that I'm on a healing journey and craving the whispering bricks of the ocean water so you may need a glass of wine to read this post. In the nonprofit world, opportunities to engage in programming are oftentimes managed by an ITP/RFP process- Invitation to Participation or Request for Proposal. The company or organization (read "funder") sends out an electronic solicitation with the specs-objectives or goals, population to be served, time frame, preferred strategies and anything else that would help you qualify for or weed yourself out of the process. Sometimes, it is just a formality because the company or organization already knows exactly whom they want to hire but the process must still be followed to appear equitable. Those of us in the slightly more seasoned category can read an ITP/RFP and detect what organization(s) the funder has in mind. Anyway, this is about the process and my dream with sister Harriet, down by the intersection of estuaries and next steps. As sister Harriet and I were making our way North, I asked how her current ITP was still open. Surely, there were millions of qualified service providers to help folks on their way. She shook her head and painstakingly explained to me that her search wasn't for service providers but for free people that wanted to share the journey. Slightly perplexed, I foolishly said "well, the history books stated you led people to freedom." Sister Harriet shook her head again and increased her gait, while very deliberately stating " Free people cannot be led by anything outside of themselves. I've walked this path countless times because this is my journey. I invite people to participate all day, every day. This is how I move in the world. Now, are you crossing over or just blocking the light?". So, I crossed over and started dreaming about my own ITP process. Hope Sister Harriet visits again.

Silence, Not So Much

It's been a while since I've sat and wrote. Been neglecting this blog and myself in various forms. I find myself in yet another space of personal transition which I embrace. I have been spending more time on the front porch, blackberry wine or whatever is in the frig. So eager to talk about next steps, next phase of my life that I recognized that I'm trying to skip right pass where I am today. In this moment. Feeling deserving and good enough and prepared. Committed to living the work that my dreams require. It really is that simple. I believe I am beginning to understand what my elders meant by "standing in your light". How frequently have I repeated those words to urge others onward to their greatness. I'm sitting here on the porch with the street lamp on, my laptop battery low, cell phone off and cackling as I type my truth. Decided today that I'll write when I have some words and not just all of the words. I'll write because however it comes to me is how it comes to me. Stop worrying about somebody else's format. Just write cuz silence, not so much. Feeling unapologetically me tonight. Cheers, standupsistah