R Culture: Mixtape Orange by R Culture

Mixtape Orange

R Culture || The Art Responds to OUR Society... ||

who we are...

Anthony Gaskins — President & Mastermind anthonygaskins@gmail.com Nahuel Fanjul-Arguijo — Editor-in-Chief & Design nahuel.fanjul@gmail.com in collaboration with

PCP Media

Popular Culture Production www.PCPMedia.us

Mission Statement — PCP Media is an aggregated independent media website highlighting and promoting indie films, art, music and live events. We aim to empower the youth through these core competencies. PCP Media’s main component consist of providing a safe space for individuals regardless of race, class, gender or creed. Our goal is to educate, entertain and inspire through a sphere of creative cultural context. Our objective is to integrate our content into educational institutions and cultivate students, youth and adults to make a difference in their communities. We strive to deliver substance you won’t find in mainstream media. PCP Media is dedicated to promoting intelligent subject matter with enriched components of advocating for civic engagement and social justice. We are committed to stimu- lating young minds and contributing to their productivity through the arts, education and community involvement. PCP Media pledges to build collaborative connections between youth and larger institutions and organizations; providing an opportunity to meet working professionals in their field of interest. Our ambition will elevate the ideas of the youth and provide a space for them to engage while producing suggested resources for their advancement. At PCP Media we dedicate our passion, talent and progression to the nur- turing and uplifting of the voices and ideas that have often been ignored. This is OUR take on the world WE live in. R Culture

e g y p t w i t h a n t h o n y & t a mm y nyc election night jeremy & germane p i c k a pp l e s w / k e v i n f a r r e l l tony parent: stop & frisk art w/rahne santiago i d e n t i t y : w h at d o e s i t m e a n ? election night cont. daniel le, a memoir

www.PCPMedia.us - see what we do... Mixtape Orange

letter from the president “An educator in a system of oppression is either a revolutionary or an oppressor.” - Lerone Bennett, Jr.

Now more than ever we are faced with a new set of challenges. For a community of people attempting to live in a harmonious ideal, we are wedge in between the hate of history and the possibility of our future. If you find yourself upset, afraid, confused, or completely awake, we welcome you. Our third edition of R Culture Magazine is in many ways our most revolutionary. Nahuel and I are always particularly conscious of the content we aggregate, however, this particular release comes at a time when the United States has elected a new President. As we await our country’s transition, we also continue our mission to facilitate the conversation that includes our perspective and those who have bravely and creatively granted us the opportunity. It’s our goal to make you think, to entertain your imagination, and illuminate the truth we believe in. In this edition we present the question, “What narrative do you prescribe to?” Our popular media has done an excellent job shaping our discourse in many ways. Social media continues to be the most sought after medium to regurgitate whatever images or soundbites that represent individual activism. So we ask you, what issues being reported, or not, move you? What does your movement look like, and what role do you play in making that movement successful? Don’t think about it too hard… (Reverse phycology) In the meantime, we present you our response to the world. We are proud to offer you some brand new content that challenges the popular narrative and gets heads nodding, as if listening attentively. We contribute the latest offering to the movement, Mixtape Orange, allowing our art to respond to the society.

“If our oppression is all linked together, then that must mean our liberation can only come when we’re all connected.” Much peace and respect, Anthony Gaskins

R Culture

meet the editorial team Anthony Gaskins — President & Mastermind — a Californian with strong Las Vegas roots. Anthony is a teacher, budding entrepreneur, writer, producer, and award winning actor. Currenty lives in Harlem, NY. Anthony is the creator of The Day After MLK, the critically acclaimed Interactive Performance Art Exhibit and Social/Creative Arts Institute. You may have seen him in the CBS television series Person of Interest, Elementary, and Madam Secretary. Anthony was last seen Off-Broadway as “Michael” in the Here Arts Center world premiere of You Are Dead. You Are Here. Film credits include Crazy Beats Strong Everytime, The Jerk Theory, Inside, Weight Classes, Fallout and ‘Cell. Anthony is a graduate of the American Repertory Theater, Institute for Advanced Theater Training at Harvard University. Nahuel Fanjul-Arguijo — Editor-in-Chief & Design — raised in as many different settings as there are ways to pronounce his name... (Nah-well is best, thank you). From Tucuman, Argentina, to a small place named Damascus, MD. From large public schools to small private high school in Bethesda, MD. Then Providence College, where he began working in jounalism, from Arts & Entertainment writer to Associate Editor-in-Chief of The Cowl, Providence College’s student run newspaper. Since then, he has worked for Apple, for a TV network in LA, and finally in at The Calhoun School, where he is currently. Nahuel resides in Brooklyn, NY.

RCultureM ag@gmail.com Mixtape Orange

Feature After eleven hours of flying, I only notched a grand total of three hours of sleep. And even though the plane flew turbulence-free—and the fact that I shared a whole cushy row with only my partner—I still couldn’t get comfortable. Maybe it was the three young children finding the cruising altitude of 43,000 feet over the Atlantic Ocean difficult to manage—I related to their frustration, but enjoyed their occasional moments of calm playfulness. They were adorable, with curly hair and cheeks full of love. Their mother and father tried to offer as much comfort to them as possible, even if it meant sacrificing their own—and that realization stayed with me—parents make tremendous sacrifices that hardly go noticed. ••• After landing at Cairo International Airport, we were greeted by many stares of wonderment. My lovely partner and I are quiet the eye-catchers even in the states, our unique coupling of brown and tan skin complexions has a tendency to stimulate curiosity. Tammy is a stunningly gorgeous, first-generation, Egyptian-American, who sports a golden glow. While I boast my chocolate-melenated Afro American position. As we move through customs, we get curious looks, smiles, and many questions about whether or not we need a taxi or help with our bags. As a young kid, I never in a million years imagined that I would be offered an opportunity to experience Egypt.

•••

After grabbing our luggage, Tammy’s older brother met us with a driver that would take us through Egypt’s mainland to meet her parents on the coast of Alexandria. Tired of sitting, but thankful we made it safely, we rode down the main highway dodging locals who casually strolled across, staring down cars as if in a cross walk. Distant views of pyramids are sketched in the dusty haze that floats atop of the Egyptian landscape. The Nile River boldly flexes its importance as we drive through Cairo’s historic legacy, painted with wise old apartment buildings and beautifully constructed mosques.

The city whispers areas, while 80’s rock spirituality, inviting classics play in the gracious sense of background. humility I respectfully acknowledge as my ••• eyelids drowsily shut. At dinner, Tammy ••• proclaims that this is the first time their Tammy’s parents whole family has been are beautiful people. in Egypt at the same They welcomed us time. Her mother, with warm smiles father, and brother all and loving embraces. agree, as they reminisce Their villa sits in front over the year’s past. of a sandy beach that It was an awesome leads to the aqua- moment for me to blue waters of the witness, as I listen and Mediterranean Sea. enjoy the retelling of Tammy’s father stories in broken Arabic. mentions that life It made me think here is simple, of the family I quiet, and less observed hot than on the o t h e r nearby

Li by

...

plane, and the sacrifices the parents made in order to ensure their children had the best experience possible. It was a reminder that family is probably one of the most valuable components to life. ••• Prior to traveling to Egypt, many people would respond to my announcement with an incredulous look as if to say “are you sure you want to travel there?” I understood why they would think this, as Western media has branded the Middle East and the continent of Africa with horrible reputation, instilling fear in the global audience, leading to a lack of understanding and complete disregard.

Anthony Gaskins

However, after my experience this summer, I have a completely new perspective myself. ••• It wasn’t until traveling to Egypt that I fully embrace the Muslim culture. Being a new convert, I had been educated on the religion and have engaged in countless talks with Tammy, her family, and many others about the culture and what it means to them. Not to

R Culture

mention my study of the late, great, Malcolm X, who is one of my heroes, so much so that I converted to Islam on this year’s anniversary of his assassination: February 21. Unfortunately, all I had was an idea about what it meant to be Muslim, I hadn’t actually developed the full connection in order to have a truthful awareness. It wasn’t until I began walking through the streets of Alexandria that supported modest,

respectful, and familiar community members, who proudly clutched on to a holy legacy, that a western influence is aggressively soliciting. Even though I was born in the US and take advantage of all of the privileges, liberties and freedoms, that is supposed to be attributed to citizens, I still found myself greatly appreciating the subtle yet beautiful simplicity of this so called, “third world” country.

••• I was struck by the sound of the Adhan—Islamic call to prayer—as it echoed simultaneously from the loud speakers atop of each mosque throughout the city. I observed how the people made their way, men joined arm and arm, and young girls without their parents slipping off their shoes prior to entering the mosque for their Koran recitations.

All photos from Anthony Gaskins

Media, Islamophobia, and the Inequality of Human Life By Tammy Abrahem

There are five prayers throughout the day and the Adhan goes off each time to continuously remind you of what’s important: selflessness and thankfulness. As a visitor of Egypt, I can confidentially admit that I am still no expert on the Egyptian culture, however, I do feel as though I have gained a better understanding on how important the culture is to the country. After numerous conversations with students, friends, and family members, one

thing is for certain: the vast majority of our country has the wrong idea about the Middle East and the Islamic culture. Nonetheless, I more than encourage you to further your research and widen your perspectives, as there is so much to learn from this country of history and wealthy knowledge. Needless to say, Western media keeps prescribing countless misconceptions to the Middle East and Africa. Do you ever wonder why?

I don’t know what to say anymore. There are no words left and no more politics to debate. The cries of over 470,000 civilians murdered over the past five years should be enough to break the silence. Where is the media outpour and support? Shockingly, the death of children and the continuous families being displaced or murdered is still not enough for the 11 o’clock news or Good Morning America. I remember getting ready one morning with Good Morning America playing in the background, they mentioned briefly a convoy of UN supplies headed to a Syrian refugee camp that was blown up by Russian troops. It was covered for about 25 seconds without images, immediately followed by sports, enthusiastically reporting the Mets game. This was about three minutes of Mets coverage highlighting jubilant fans, a marriage proposal in the audience, and how the groom clumsily dropped the engagement ring in the stands. Mainstream media doesn’t give the Syrian crisis the media coverage it deserves. Seemingly, the value of Syrian lives does not matter, their lives are unequal to the rest of the world’s population. I can’t help but think that there is a greater value for European and Western lives. Had this crisis been happening in a European country, there would be substantial reporting every single day. ISIS has been a major factor in this conflict, along with the other key players. Syrian refugees are victims of ISIS and the political turmoil of the region. However, ISIS was created due to the War in Iraq; when the US left Iraq, they left behind weapons and artillery which fell into the hands of Radicals in a war torn region. Iraq had no infrastructure, jobs, and many people lost hope in returning to normal life. Radicalization and terrorism began to spread and suggested revenge on those who have destroyed the region. The US has not yet claimed responsibility for their foreign policy mess and the formation of ISIS. They refuse to step in to help the Syrian Crisis. Some Americans question letting refugees into the US because they fear they might be

Mixtape Orange

terrorist, and the media continues to perpetuate the stereotype that fosters Islamophobia. Yet we fail to see that the US is certainly a part of the equation which led to this current crisis to begin with. As the crisis expands and the death toll grows, ISIS continues to be the main group blamed for the bloodshed. I call on the rest of the free world to take blame in sitting by and watching this bloodshed unfold for over five years. Assad and Putin claim they are fighting ISIS, but how? Assad is targeting his own people, hospitals, and civilians, not ISIS. He began targeting anyone who spoke against his regime about five years ago during the Arab Spring. It was a time when people of the Middle East felt empowered, they were no longer silenced and protested against their dictators. Using various outlets, most importantly social media, a revolution took place in Algeria and Egypt. Both countries protested against their corrupt regimes and overthrew their rulers. Syria attempted to do the same to its dictator Assad, but instead of hearing their demands, he fought back against his people using military power. He forced millions of people to leave their homes or surrender to his regime. Claiming to target ISIS has been his excuse. Russia stepped in to help fight against ISIS, however, the people really being targeted are civilians. They are slowly murdering the Syrian population while the rest of the world sits back and watches (well, rarely watches, considering its barley covered in mainstream media). The part that really makes my blood boil is when ISIS attacks Syria or other Middle Eastern countries, somehow those victims of the attacks receive no outpour of support. When ISIS attacked Brussels and Paris there was an immediate media response covering the stories and a substantial outpour of people’s condolences. Within hours after the attacks countries sent out their prayers and support using vigils from various parts of the world. Social media overflowed with status updates and filter changes recognizing the victims in Paris and Brussels, and hashtags were created: #PrayForParis and #PrayForBrussels. When ISIS attacked Syria and Turkey, where were the Facebook filters and hashtags? There was barley any news coverage about it. When ISIS attacked Saudi Arabia’s holiest site in Medina during Ramadan—the holiest month for Muslims—the irony struck me and saddened me. The common narrative about ISIS says this is a group of “Islamic Terrorists,” when in fact they stand for nothing Islamic and they are murdering Muslim communities. Muslims are the biggest victims when it comes to the attacks carried out by ISIS. Yet the media continues to associate their acts with “radical Islam,” when there is absolutely nothing Islamic about them. Where is the daily coverage of the massacres taking place in Syria? Every single day the population in Syria continues to dwindle down, people continue to be displaced, and the rest of the world has no idea the magnitude of this crisis because it isn’t covered. People deserve to know the truth, only then can they begin to see the atrocities of this crisis and empathize to help. It has become so irrelevant to mainstream media that even Independent presidential candidate Gary Johnson was asked about Aleppo and didn’t even know what Aleppo was. There is no denying the inequality between the life of Westerners in comparison to those of the Middle East. Islamophobia has been a major tool used to create this gap and divide for people to think there is “our civilized world” and then there’s the “middle eastern world.” At times I feel like I’m in the twilight zone. There is a holocaust going on and no one is talking about it. It will only continue to grow until we can stand up to these injustices and sympathize for all human lives. After all: “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere… whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.” - Martin Luther King Jr.

R Culture

The Arts

Photographed by Nahuel F.A. More shots from Election Night on page 24

Mixtape Orange

Fashion

Follow: @THEHOUSEOFGERMANE Website: www.thehouseofgermane.com Contact: jeremy.quezada@thehouseofgermane.com Watch: www.youtube.com/watch

GERMANE IS

I LACK NOT

House of Germane The House of Germane is an avantgarde fashion label devoted to the concept of relevancy. We believe that staying relevant is ultimately the key to long term success, and we aim to establish a culture that perpetuates this idea in the form of clothing. The inspiration for our various collections and lines stem from a variety of sources both fictional and nonfictional. Alongside our manufactured collections of clothing, we offer limited quantities of hand painted, up cycled clothing. In company with our love of fashion, we aim to spread our message and ideologies by creating a platform for designers and artists from all over the world to create, display, and communicate their art globally.

MY SHEPHERD,

HING - 11:47

A Chat with Designer

Jeremy Quezada

1. When did fashion first become a passion? Fashion has always been my passion but it took me a while to realize that it was something I wanted to do for the entirety of my existence. I first discovered this passion during my Junior Workshop outside the classroom. Understanding that development in anything comes from the time spent on it, and doing everything possible to become as knowledgeable as possibleâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; and that is what I did. I spent countless sleepless nights researching everything about fashion, from collections, designers, and products to have touched the popular market in the last twenty years. Obtaining this valuable information inspired me to create in any way possible.

2. Who did you learn the most from in life? A teacher, mentor, etc.? Kanye West has always been a large influence, not only for his accomplishments, but for his gritty attitude and demeanor in achieving anything he sets his mind to. Seeing Kanye reach the pinnacle in the music industry and later entering the fashion world was inspiring. But my largest inspiration as an artist would probably be my sister, Cristina. She has always been the artist in my family and I have always admired and mirrored her work. In my eyes, she is the best artist to ever live, as Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve seen her through her best and her worst moments in her pieces of work. She allowed me to see first hand the journey that it takes to be an artist.

3. Has your schooling helped in your journey? From a young age I have always been interested in fashion, but, better yet, the beauty of educating and creating relationships with others. The House Of Germane first came to life in high school, during my Junior Workshop Project in which I needed to create something new for the world. I noticed that reaching an outlet and having the opportunity to achieve something with the help of others is much greater than reaching it alone. The inspiration for our various collections and lines stem from a variety of sources both fictional and nonfictional. In company with our love of fashion, we aim to spread our message and ideologies by creating a platform for designers and artists to create, display, and communicate their art globally.

4. You excell at this, when did you learn about self-promotion? The company promotion is set to leave the audience in question when seeing the pieces. Making the promotional aspect, I create something my audience needs to discover and find the answers to. I like to make my audience search for the meaning of the pieces and hopefully follow me through the process to a finished product. It would be less intriguing to already know the meaning of something, especially an art piece. And really, thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s truly no answer in art, the beauty is leaving the audience in mystery and allowing them to perceive the vision with their abilities of interpretation. Colors, themes, images, almost everything we (humans) see is different. What one can see and/or feel can seem different to another.

5. What are you looking to achieve in your first year at fashion school? I am trying to establish Germane and create the steps and opportunities for myself, and the development of this company. Currently I am taking a sewing class, Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m learning how to embroider and make different clothing, such as t-shirts and dress shirts. Knowing how to sew as a designer is a large part of the development, understanding this importance at such an early stage of my life. In entirety, this year for me is where I have the chance to make a name for myself.

6. What do you envision in the upcoming year for your brand? The goal for this year is to release the first ever manufactured cut and sewn Germane pieces of clothing, and to continues to grow the brand by finding other team members and artist to pursue in giving other the voice through our platform.

Mixtape Orange

rell ille Far m a C y b photo

We’re Standing in an Apple Orchard by Kevin Farrell

I had this conversation with a friend a while ago that I’m still chewing on. Do you have those? The ones where suddenly everything you once knew is out the window and now you literally can’t step back into your comfort zone—like, it’s gone! I don’t remember the exact words, but the idea was this: Say I had two apples, and I gave you one of them. Common knowledge would tell us that now I only have one apple. This sounds simple, but there is a deep underlying message here that affects us all—that sharing is synonymous to deficit. I could have kept both apples and then I would have had double. By sharing, my stake is halved, right? But, what no one told us is that we are standing in an apple orchard...

R Culture

For the longest time, I had been living from a perspective of deficit. I was so careful about sharing. If I’m completely honest, I kind of just wanted to hold all of the apples. This was further reinforced by going to music conservatory and learning that, as a creative artist, it is every person for themselves. It only gets worse as one leaves music school and, in a best case scenario, becomes a recording artist. But is this sustainable? I mean, working and working on our craft only to produce records that give us short-lived attention and (in today’s music industry landscape) negligible returns—I am speaking of course from the perspective of an independent musician, making fairly esoteric music. It’s no wonder why the very act of creation brings about existential crisis: Should I even put pen to paper? Does it make sense to create anything at all? For me, one answer has been to try to change the purpose for which I play music. For my last two records I have decided to give every cent from sales to

organizations that feed the homeless. The result has been tremendous. My last CD, entitled Kensington, sells for $7 on iTunes, and every cent of that $7 goes to an organization called Graffiti Ministries, whose work includes making bag lunches and bringing them to homeless people in Tompkins Square Park, in the East Village of Manhattan, NY. Although an extra $7 here or there would be fantastic for me, it is not going to make nearly the difference that it will make for people who may or may not have eaten today. This is great, but I have found even deeper reasons to present music in this way that have changed me as an artist. The first is that although Kensington is an entire record of me playing by myself, I’ve tried to make the purpose of the record to not be completely about me and my work. Hopefully, I will be able to see what my work is capable of doing for people other than myself in practical ways—and maybe even get to see the results. I am offering this record as an act of service to others

Music knowing all too well that I wouldn’t even have the opportunity to play music at all if it weren’t for other people helping me. In my mind, this has taken a lot of the pressure off what people may think of my record, and perhaps what I’m thinking people are thinking about my record. The anxiety that I would have had around putting myself out there is suddenly gone. It has freed me as an artist to produce freely. This feeling is unimaginable. Another funny thing happened that I never would have expected: this has been my most successful record to date! I’ve thought about it a lot, and though many people may or may not be able to understand what I am doing on my instrument, they can relate to the mission and what this record hopefully represents. And though I have not received any financial gains directly from producing my last two

albums, an unbelievable number of opportunities have showed up, many from people who have heard about the project. It has been nothing but a blessing for me and hopefully to others. I write all of this not to brag or boast, or even to shameless promote my work (at least, not entirely). I share my experience as a call to action to all of my artist friends and to all creative people. We are standing in the orchard. Our abundance is immeasurable.

Kevin Farrell is a faculty member at Fordham University and the Calhoun School. His latest album Kensington is available on iTunes.

Mixtape Orange

Stop and Frisk

Film

Exp er ie nce Becomes Award-Winning Film with Tony Parent

While walking to the train in New York City one early evening in 2011, I was stopped, frisked, and arrested. I began to find out most of my friends and family that are Black and Hispanic men had experienced something similar, or worse, so I did not want to reach out for empathy or understanding. I actually was interviewing with Mayor Bloomberg’s office for a fatherhood services coordinator position for New York City when my arrest happened. As we now know, he and Commissioner Kelly were the driving force behind Stop and Frisk in New York City during this time. I became angry and reclusive, isolating myself from friends, family, and events. I couldn’t even understand how this arrest had affected me so deeply when I wasn’t seriously injured or killed, like so many others. I was asked to do a stand-up set at a friend’s party and I decided to talk about getting arrested for no damn reason in New York City. I put together a 30-minute set, which was easy because my experience always stayed with me. The day of the show I decided not to go on. I went to a 10-year North Carolina School of the Arts (UNCSA) reunion instead and ran into my friend Ted Schneider, with whom I had lost touch with. I told him about my experience and that I had written about it. And he told me he was directing. We decided right then and there to tell my story through film. We then met with Jeremy Weaver, another friend from college, who signed on to the project instantly as the director of photography. And this is how I started making my first film. Mixtape Orange

WEBSITE • TEASER FACEBOOK • INSTAGRAM • IMDB Challenges

Successes

Synopsis

Budget: We worked outof-pocket, and producers, actors, and crew all played multiple roles. As a result, it took us three years to complete the film.

Casting and crew: To my surprise, we had no problem casting the film, because everyone I approached had either been through a similar experience or felt strongly about the issue.

A man recounts his Stop and Frisk arrest and the ripples it makes in his life and close relationships. He wrestles with how to place what happened to him alongside the tragic stories fueling the current national dialogue on Racial Profiling.

Time: We all had day-jobs to pay bills, so we mainly met nights and weekends to complete our goal.

Film festivals: We are currently on our sixth festival (list to right).

Topic: In today’s climate, this is highly controversial, but a story that needs to be told. For this reason I was willing to put my name and story out there. I want to give a voice to those who have had similar experiences and no way of expressing themselves.

My proudest moment so far was taking my mother to the White House to see my film at the March on Washington Film Festival, where we received the Emerging Artist Grand Prize. I am blown away by the growing interest in our film and its topic.

R Culture

This short docu-drama is a voice for the non-sensational stories, which can get lost. It suggests that one’s own awareness of subtler forms of racism needs to be cultivated for change to be truly radical.

Awards/Festivals • Harlem International Film Festival • I Imagine Film Festival • Big Apple Film Festival - Made in New York Filmmaker Series • National Black Theatre Festival • Andrew Freedman Home Hip Hop Celebration Day (Netflix) • Wake Forest University • Defy Film Festival

. S . R

My name is Rahne Santiago, I started to make art at a very young age. I used to do a lot of writing to help relieve myself of the anxiety I carried, but at a certain point I started having trouble finding the words, so I sketched.

Visual Art

I don’t really have any idea what I will create when I start, I just kind of make a mess and see where my mind or my mood takes the mess—and creates something beautiful. Art has always been more of a copping mechanism, and still is to this day. I feel a lot of my pieces have similar themes. Growing up I was very insecure about my teeth, so i decided to incorporate gaps into most of my work. Growing up, gaps weren’t advertised as much, so if I at least saw it in my work, something I’m proud of, it may increase my confidence. I’m also a fan of eyes. I truly feel that someone’s eyes can say a lot about what or how a person feels. I’ve always had to bite my tongue, but I’m always aware, which is why I may have pieces with eyes where they normally wouldn’t be. For awhile I kept my work a secret—like a diary—I felt every heavy breath hit the paper and I was able to relax again. As an adult I’m now ready to do more with my art, and would love to grow. Do to my lack of schooling in the arts I’m not sure how to best describe what my art is. I work with acrylic paint and oil as well as markers. I currently post my work on Instagram. On Instagram she is @joyous_beautifulflower. Mixtape Orange

The world was filled with great causesâ&#x20AC;&#x201C; Mandela, Nicaragua, and the battle against Reagan.

I could feel the falling, all around.

Ta-Nehisi Coates (the beautiful struggle)

An Identity Look...

Education

What Does It Mean... by R. Jermaine Henry PART I

Who are you? What are you? Randy? That’s the rightest answer, right? After that, I’d say human—my most innate feeling. Then I’d add Black. My most conditioned sensation—only to subconsciously appease the obvious question; of who and what I am? Next, I’d season the stew with, I was born on the Caribbean nation of Antigua—island in the sun. Of course, there’s other ingredients— those were just the instant mix which comes to mind whenever posed with the inquiry; what does it mean to be black? Shit. Now that made me think, and the more I seriously thought on the question, the more I believed ignorance was bliss. I was black. I am black. Because most blacks, claim it through African descent. But don’t most people from all walks loosely cling to the same claim? Most do, but I wear the mark of melanin and it has defined me from time immemorial. So what’s the intrinsic meaning? I could only think of intellectual answers. Ones, that guided me to the collective black experience. In summation, from greatness exemplified to the great downtrodden, who still shine great. Albeit barely seen. That, was good. But now, it wasn’t good enough. Did I search for something deeper? Nah, no need to. It did foster another question, one perhaps more expansive—was I the only one weighed with this feeling? I couldn’t be. I refused with steel plated stubbornness, to believe so. So I set out to find out as much as I can. What I can… and only that. And perhaps by sharing them, more thought can be induced and hopefully move us humankind a thousandth of a millimeter to where we truly need to be as a global people. Who knows... Mixtape Orange

It had dawned, that perhaps no one knew nothing of themselves, save the knowledge of having a family, friends, and biology books and teachers to show us something of ourselves. Even if it’s a degree. So, over the course of a month—not sure of the exact numbers but it was a lot—I asked a ton of people, mostly friends and some associates, what it meant to be black? With others, the same—according to what race they identify as. What is it that constitutes being Spanish/Latino or, Arab, White, Asian—any specific ethnicity which glazes a racial stratum—which I will touch on in Part II of this piece: Into the Western Light. This turned out to be an experience and an experiment. An anthropological thought experiment. There would be no paper, no pens. Just memory. I wanted feelings and truths that could only be told through the eyes and on spot reactions—so I guess this would never count as too scientific, if at all. We’re all born pristine templates. Right? Every one of us Impressed, over a duration with the ideas and perception of all those who came before us. And those perceptions and ideas differ for those not of a similar experience but even for those who share, there’s variation. A slight veering from their shared narrative. What do I mean by this? It began with a question I asked a close friend: Yo, what

in his mind he was Others had similar we were “black” somewhere. answers when asked while embracing He was searching for about blackness. One whatever it means the intellectual answer. girl said, It means to be now. I recognized. Then his accepting yourself I stood before her eyes found the shared as you are. For so shaking my head narrative—well, he long we’ve been thinking, profound. said. I mean…I can told to be black F u c k i n g ugly—we’re profound. go a million ways, is just but I guess being ugly—it’s It was truly about embracing. black means the metaphysical. I was rich struggle… So, I asked if: being , for you understanding I had liked that. black but couldn’t grasp He said more, means embracing and after our time Identifying with the discrimination, together I walked hate—the away, still with no Africa and a lost the culture… he kept hardships and still over-standing. going and kept finding shine bright, right? Others had similar things to be proud of. Yea… I mean. answers but were …how everyone No… more like equally vague, like doesn’t want to be both… what you this one: Ran—the

does it mean to be black but loves the black? Immediately culture? There’s his eyes darted off something in that. into nowhere, but I don’t know… R Culture

just said and what I said before. Embracing our blackness before

name close friends call me—you really gonna ask me that? Nigga,

being black means After a minute of smoke …but black, we gods, son. He deep thinking on the that shit don’t smoothed his palm question, my friend mean nothing, said: Being black? over his forearm and Randy. These pointed to it. This Damn…fucking days “blacks,” shit right here, good question. we just fighting this melanin… This person I had for our rightful this shit is in asked on purpose— recognition. More e v e r y t h i n g — figuratively anyone the than the universe, all blackest person I else… I bet if you that. All life. knew. A repository ask other people We represent of blackness. what it means to everything, nigga. After saying what she be who they are, All races come had, she thought again. they’d say some from us. We they Longer this time. Then dumb rehearsed parents, he said it to said, I thought of bullshit, or me with a face twisted probably just in disbelief. Nigga, this before, a long won’t know. ago… and I They’d you know that’s time say could honestly say why they all hate it’s a prescription. s o m e t h i n g , us and tryna keep Especially in this though.” us down. day and age, with Her words came That was the all the knowledge calm, easy just like the rawest, and the most available. But I dancing smoke that heartfelt answer I had do feel… we are filled the room. It was heard from anyone of the consciousness a wholesome answer, any ethnicity. It came of the earth, you a sort of hidden without a thought. But know? Not to take and surrendered it was his meaning, anything away acceptance, from my and an inspiring one. from other peoples. angle at the least. Full of greatness and It’s like that show, And that’s how this passion. But I needed heroes—save the journey began—this something more cheerleader, save first part of who are focused like A unified the world—well theory. that’s us. If blacks There were many can get it together others but this last we can save the one… well, you be world. I really believe that… she the judge.

we? And not just us Blacks.

As I walked away remembering these four, the most encompassing of the ten blacks I spoke to, I thought of my own meaning… my own feelings. Something complete—more tangible for me...

We don’t ever conform, we can’t… we transform. So I guess the only thing I can associate blackness with is coal feeding the flame or like how darkness is the canvass of life… if I’m seen that way… - R. Jermaine, Henry

took a puff of her joint Her eyes searched and nodded a few. every corner of Yea… she spoke her mind. I saw trying to hold back the discovery in them.

Mixtape Orange

Big White Elephant in the Room Two sides of the election, seen from NYC streets

more at www.nahui-day.com

by Nahuel F.A.

Taken at Rockefeller Centerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Democracy Plaza and at Midtown Hiltonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Trump HQ dur

25 Since election night, people all over seem to be looking for their own way to cope with what happened. In New York especially there has been a lot of expression against the new president-elect. From protests to post-its… well, my way of coping: photography. I really don’t want to burden this post with too much darkness, but it seems inevitable in the world we now live in. All I can say is that I’m terribly sad that social justice, human rights, and acceptance have taken a backseat in what’s most important to this country. I don’t feel a connection to this country right now. I do feel connected to this city, to New York City and what it has tried to stand for. I’m proud of New York City and the protest that I’ve seen going on in the streets, including the latest student walk-out/march to Trump Tower. These students know more about how to be a leader, and how important human rights should be, than a lot of adults it seems. These protests are way more decent than what Trump supporters have been doing to minorities and non-white since his election. I hope the times get better, I hope the times change.

ring election night, 11pm-2am.

more at www.nahui-day.com

The Fall of America

Taken at Rockefeller Center’s Democracy Plaza and at Midtown Hilton’s Trump HQ during election night, roughly 11pm-2am.

by Nahuel F.A.

emoir aniel

The phone rang at about 3:00am Pacific Standard Time; at least that was what my body was telling me. It was my second day here and my internal clock wasn’t set thirteen hours ahead like it should have been. According to the mysterious lady on the other end, it was 4:00pm in the afternoon. According to me, it was bedtime. “Hi, may I speak to Le Phi Daniel?” she asked properly, family name first. “This is he.” I replied in my best Vietnamese. “This is your Uncle Tong’s wife. I am calling to ask you when it would be convenient for your uncle to come up to Saigon to see you. Is tomorrow morning at 8:00am okay for you? Great. Your uncle is excited to meet you. He will be waiting for you in the lobby. Goodbye!” *

The streets of Saigon were a beautiful ballet of controlled chaos. Motorbikes ruled the road, swarming in and out of intersections, alleyways, and even sidewalks. Our tour bus trudged along, stopping at every major sight. It felt like a movie tour of the Viet Nam War. I saw the street where the monk Thich Quang Duc burned himself to death; A human fetus deformed by agent orange at the war remnants museum; The American embassy where the last US army helicopters left Viet Nam for good. It wasn’t until we arrived at the Ho Chi Minh statue when I remembered my appointment with Uncle Tong. I rushed past the barrage of beggars and street vendors, into the air-conditioned shelter of the Dong Khanh Hotel. Off in the corner was a skinny old man smoking a cigarette. We made eye contact as I approached him. He stood up holding an old fedora.

R Culture

“Minh Tri?” he asked. That was the name I was given as an infant when my mother took me to temple. It was a tradition for Vietnamese Buddhists to have an abbot bless the child and give them a spiritual name. I grasped Uncle Tong’s hand as we exchanged greetings. He was deaf in one ear like my mother described. He cupped his ear as I apologized. It was one in the afternoon. Apparently he left his house in Can Tho at one in the morning on a crowded bus just to come to Saigon to see me. I then realized that he was in the lobby when I left for the city tour. “How come you didn’t ask them to wake me, uncle?” I asked. He cupped his ear and I repeated the question. He then smiled in acknowledgement. “I didn’t want to wake you. I’m sure you are still jet lagged from your flight. Plus, it’s my day off. I don’t mind hanging out in a fancy hotel lobby. This place is nice, you should find a wife while you’re here.” There was a brief pause, he looked at me, and then laughed. I grinned as I sighed in relief. We then walked back to my room. Uncle Tong lit a cigarette as we settled in. My mother had sent an entire suitcase full of clothes, toiletries, and toys for my Uncles family. She also sent an envelope with money and photographs from my grandmother’s funeral. It hadn’t been a year since she passed. He went through the photos very solemnly. I sat there in quiet silence, trying to give him some space. Behind the stack of photos was a letter from my mother. Uncle Tong read it carefully and moments later he started to cry. My heart sank. Uncle Tong hadn’t seen my grandmother since she fled Viet Nam in 1975. Now, decades later, all he had to remember her by were funeral photos. What could I say to a man crying over the death of his mother? I didn’t know what to do so I put my arm around Uncle Tong and cried. The next couple of hours were spent hearing stories about my mom and grandmother and how life was back then in Viet Nam. In the brief moment we had together, I was able to learn a lot about myself. I came here to Viet Nam to learn about my parent’s country and in turn, learn about myself. Given his horrendous commute, the time had come for Uncle Tong to return to Can Tho. I had the hotel call a taxi for him. As I walked him outside, we kept talking about my trip to his house in two weeks. The plan was to have a giant feast in my honor. The taxi driver interrupted our conversation. Sad about the termination of the moment, we said our goodbyes. I gave Uncle Tong a hug while I slipped him some extra cash for the ride home. “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.” I said as I closed the door of the cab. Uncle Tong smiled. Grabbed my hand through the window and shook it. “We’re going to have a lot of food waiting for you so get ready. Okay?” I nodded and waved as the cab disappeared into the frenetic Saigon traffic. I stood there for a moment and took it all in. This was the motherland. This was where I came from. It was surreal. I couldn’t believe that a small town boy like myself was in Saigon retracing the origins of my bloodline. It was a precious moment, one that was only the beginning of my journey for self-identity. * Mixtape Orange

The art responds to our society...