Have you ever sat down and just meditated on the stories which are told in your family? I think you have a book in you. Maybe not to become famous but to shed some light, give wisdom, offer comfort in this world. Sit down and start writing. I have embarked on a project to help myself. I'm going to start teaching classes in journal writing at a retirement community. I walked through there and
saw so many Vietnam Vet caps. I saw little old ladies with photos of when they were young and kicking it. I saw ladies who got up in the morning and did their beauty rituals. And I saw grandmas with so many visiting grandchildren they really did need a personal assistant to keep it all together. I saw life. Stories waiting to be told. Start taping your elders and your brothers coming back from wars. Go see your auto mechanic uncle. You know the one. He's got over a thousand books on Black history and he's just waiting to tell you about the time he stood in line to see Malcolm or Martin speak. Get it all down before the library closes for good.
Documentation of your elders shows the entire world for all time to come what does and does not matter to a people. So much of our lives is anecdotal and colloquial. Personally, I have become inordinately frustrated with people who speak in quips, sound bites, and sayings which have zero application to real life. "Have a blessed day" and "what's done in the dark comes to the light" and "a man gon' be a man" are all on my list of phrases which severely irritate my uppermost and hidden anal nerve endings. I honestly feel an ulcer being born when I realize that these things all mean, "I'm not going to do anything and I'm going to blame it all on God." In short, these sayings (and more) allow people to usurp some of God's alleged vengeance in the most haphazard fashion that you would almost have to create a new typography of serial killers: emotional homicide.
You see your granma and you see your granpa. Mayhap you have an elderly father or mother and you never even ask them, "how did you get here?" Some of us, Negroes and "real" Americans with positions and titles refuse to see other life. Rather, they are obstacles to get over or tools to use to further self-centered initiatives which, in the final analysis, didn't even do any good for anyone. Not even ourselves. Telling stories might just become, for someone reading this post, a mission from God (Allah the Merciful, Allah the Provider, Le Bon Dieu, and Dios Mio).
First step? Since I am one of those Negroes with letters behind my name I'm going to recommend starting with reading the workbook entitled, "Doing Oral History." Look it up for yourself. I can't be expected to tell you everything, now can I? The next step is to center yourself and to steel yourself for what you might hear. Then you have to know it's not about you. Get everything they're willing to tell you and this brings me to the most important point of living libraries. It also starts my conversation regarding love banks.
I had received the workbook many years after I interviiewed my grandmother. Reading it in hindsight I realized the mistakes I made in the interview. I let that old lady just RUN me during that interview. She made me tired. They will try to hide things and you have to learn how to ask them questions in different ways so you can go back later and compare the answers. Oh, you have to learn how to hear and not to i
mmediately answer. Shouldn't be about your answers anyway. It's about the questions and THEIR answers. We have all of this new technology so why aren't we doing something worthwhile with it? And please don't fall into the trap of thinking you're going to make any money - you should do this to know that you were here, she was here, he was here, we were here.
Never go into love thinking about profit. If you do? You're a whore. Anyone who believes in love as a capitalistic endeavour is a whore. Hate to tell you that a whore is a whore is a whore. Whether it's for a mansion with a wedding ring, a ten of crack, the result is the same and stop deluding yourself. But worse than getting that ring or that dope? Worse than all of that is listening to someone spill their heart and their soul while all you're thinking about is what does and does not have re-sale value. That's the trouble with "us" and I don't mind telling you. We spend too much time worrying about our return. This person isn't worth our time and that person isn't worth the trouble. Never remembering that you have sometimes been a cost yourself. And anyone who honestly believes that they either have not or will not be a cost is very deluded. Keep living, you'll see that what I'm telling you is the absolute truth. All things work in the circle of cycles. You refuse to hold someone's hand through their night? Don't you know that your arm will one day be stretched? And how will you feel when you know, in your soul, that you haven't deposited any points in the love bank? You write a check and it comes back refused for insufficient funds?
I knew a man who said, "you enter this life alone and you leave it alone." I didn't answer him because if I have to tell you about those precious spaces in between? We're lost from the jump off. Those moments when you get an A on your paper or when you look on Amazon and two fabulous people paid ninety nine cents for your e book? Don't you just want to shout to the world??? I DID IT!!!! What about when you get on that dreaded scale and it say two pounds lighter? You want a hug from some good ol' somebody don't you? I know I do. I also love the sound of the voice who says, "It's going to be alright." It's one of the most precious sounds I've ever heard.
I dedicate myself to documenting those times when people walked alone and telling the stories of when someone shouldered the burden. It may not get me the Pulitzer or the Nobel but it's what satisfies my soul. Instead of hurting for all of my life because I was denied love, that I love you, and that good ol' sweet kiss only mother can give, I have decided to let you know that there is good in the world. But in order to do that you've got to put on your big guhl panties or your big bah drawls and let me tell you BOTH sides. You don't think you can survive on a diet of just candy now do you? No. You got good sense and most of my friends have been up in the colleges as well so you know the truth. Y'all just like to PLAY crazy sometimes. I have to show you both. The pit of hell and the golden streets of Paradise to let you know just how blessed you are. Start writing. Start thinking. Start taking an interest in the well being of another human being. Bank them points daddy. Grow that love escrow mama. It will pay you and keep on paying you directly.
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