madame zenobia's

i enjoyed the west coast and am thankful for the chance to check out that side of the world. i haven't heard that much tupac in a minute. and since i still maintain that tupac is alive, hearing his voice on the radio was a comfort. i heard lots of west coast hip-hop, definitely a different flava than what's on the east coast menu. i've been guilty of situating the hip-hop universe on the east coast. wrong. hip-hop on the west coast has this smoothed-out kind of groove. i could hear echoes of snoop thru-out. and i don't mean new millennium snoop, although he has managed a few hits these past few years. i'm talkin about "gin and juice" and "nuthin but a g thang" and "187" snoop. i'm talkin about ice cube and "it was a good day." when i hear it, i think about summer evenings on the front porch. pool/house parties. clubbin @ margarita maggie's. tunk. spades. bones. bar-b-que. mad dog. cisco. helicopters. barking dogs. search lights. militarized public housing. empty storefronts. hydrolics. curls. chuck taylors. khakis. numbers on napkins. consciousness. braids. Blackness

had the chance to meet some really cool people at the conference. i sat on a panel--"rapping down the gate: black women and hip hop"--with some serious heavy-weights in the areas of African-American rhetorical practices. Dr. Gwendolyn Pough recently made the move to syracuse, so i'll have a chance to work with her on my exams and diss project. her work varies in subject matter from the Black Panther Party to feminism and hip-hop and has educated our discipline in terms of the complexities of African-American rhetoric. Dr. Elaine Richardson is currently at penn state and her continued work in the area of African-American language practices is sorely needed and greatly appreciated. the panel chair was Aesha Adams, a grad student doing her work out of penn state. along with her chair duties, Ms. Adams also presented on the panel, "bridging rhetorical gaps where religions matter" and participated in the research network forum. not bad company, huh? i also had the chance to meet Dr. Geneva Smitherman whose work has motived, inspired, challenged, angered me. i actually went up to her and introduced myself and told her how much her work has meant to me as a young scholar in this field. i thanked her for all her work in paving a way for me to do the kind of work i want to do. do you know that she stood up and gave me a hug? and i don't mean one of those sorry, fake hugs. you know that kind of hug that lets you know that the other person really isn't trying to get next to you, the lackluster kind of hug with a few pats on the back. but not the hug from dr. g. she stood up and gave me a hug like a hug from grandma. i was moved. and i was especially honored that she attended my panel.

the poem for the day is inspired by my viewing of a documentary about Langston Hughes...

"Theme for English B"
Langston Hughes

The instructor said,

Go home and write
a page tonight.
And let that page come out of you--
Then, it will be true.

I wonder if it's that simple?
I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem.
I went to school there, then Durham, then here
to this college on the hill above Harlem.
I am the only colored student in my class.
The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem,
through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas,
Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y,
the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator
up to my room, sit down, and write this page:

It's not easy to know what is true for you or me
at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I'm what
I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you:
hear you, hear me--we two--you, me, talk on this page.
(I hear New York, too.) Me--who?
Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love.
I like to work, read, learn, and understand life.
I like a pipe for a Christmas present,
or records--Bessie, bop, or Bach.
I guess being colored doesn't make me not like
the same things other folks like who are other races.
So will my page be colored that I write?

Being me, it will not be white.
But it will be
a part of you, instructor.
You are white--
yet a part of me, as I am a part of you.
That's American.
Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me.
Nor do I often want to be a part of you.
But we are, that's true!
As I learn from you,
I guess you learn from me--
although you're older--and white--
and somewhat more free.

This is my page for English B.