je t'aime haiti

Port au Prince

The first days here have been amazing.  Even getting around is a challenge, which I seem to thrive on. I found the most inspiration in my long walks around Delmas; studying the beautiful African faces, women toting bins and baskets on their heads. I blend here (at least until I speak). The only functioning cafe is Epi d'Or, a casual sandwich cafe and bakery chain. I tried the macepi today, which reminded me of the cafeteria hamburgers in 5th grade.

After I walked down to an intersection of Rue Delmas, I turned into a long market of street vendors, mostly women. They were selling everything from soap to onions and bananas. I passed a few slums along the way. The poverty here is deep and overwhelming. My host in Delmas, Madame Marie, and her husband are more middle class. If I walk just a few blocks, conditions get worse.  The streets are gapped and rubbled, broken houses and still in disrepair since the earthquake.

My favorite moment today as I turned back onto Autoroute Delmas, I stopped and chilled outside the parking lot of the Delimart. I watched as a woman pay a young man 100 goude for toting a big bin of shoes to sell. He haggled with her as sweat trickled down his face. She refused to give him more. After he left, she spit shine the shoes and hung several pairs up by their heels on the fence behind her. I realized I blended in and my Americaness was invisible to them. Freedom! 

Tuesday, Gonaives

At the rest stop. It is insanely hot here. There's a cafe which seems like a long process of nothing. People pay, take their ticket, and crowd around the lunch counter trying to get their order in. With all that going on, I decided to take a pass and ate the banana I had saved from breakfast.

Haitians are much more polite than Black Americans. We must be more stressed out and impatient with one another.  It seems as though Haitians are forever waiting, while we're forever rushing around.  An old woman was getting on the wrong bus. ' Madame!' I said. 'L'autobus est la!' pointing to our coach. I took her hand to help her step down and she thanked me in kreyol. 

I never just take anyone's photo without asking and I will usually give a bit of cash. Black folks everywhere are private, except maybe thugs and heaux. 

Cap Haitien

Sressed out, but exciting not knowing what the fuck or where. i arrived in cap haitien around 2:30pm and starving. i met a young man on the bus who recommended Tibukan cafe next to the sans souci bus station. there was a lot of activity and hustle getting off the bus. a handsome taxi driver and i bantered briefly, but he wanted to too much to get to Ruelle Nazon.

i had a nice lunch at tibukan with rum punch. by then it was getting close to 4:30pm and i still had to figure out where rouelle nazon was. i hopped a tap tap, which seemed to go quite a way into town. everyone was so cool, even with my basic french. i got off and the street wasn't marked with signs or numbers, i walked up, realizing that the neighborhood was a favela that spiraled up into the hillside. i stopped at N226 (a building with a number) and messaged my host sherry.

sherry was an iranina-medical student, i learned. who had lived in cap haitient for a year working as a midwife. she was engaged to a young haitian, joz. they rented out his small flat in nazon to tourists. this gave travellers cheap accomodation and joz a source of income. the thing was. nazon was a ghetto. 

that explained why sherry was a bit earnest in her communication. sherry was preparing white travellers

for a haitian ghetto experience. 

by 6pm was getting into twilight. i was getting agita that if i was lost i needed to figure out a plan b. think in french! find a hotel? fuck! i sat there wringing my hands as i heard a motorcycle approach. a strikingly handsome young man stopped in front of me. 

he held out a piece of paper with my name on it, 'mslisa?' he asked,

'what the fuck?!' i responded, with my american coming out. i was so relieved. ' joz?'

' no, je suis johny.' he said.

' man, black people.' i shook my head. 

' uh,...no english.' he said.

' 'd'accord, mon cher. je parle un peu francais,' i said. 

we rode up into the favela and he carried my suitcase. we walked up to the little flat and edelin, another host and local guide, was sitting outside on the balcony. he was a bit struck when he saw me. joz showed up shortly thereafter.

' we didn't know you were a black woman!' joz said. ' we are so happy to see you!'

we are so happy to see you. 

by now was a hot sweaty mess, but we hung out for awhile talking and made plans for edelin to take me to the citadelle the next day, i kept calling him izzy and he never corrected me. johny eventually had to leave. they said he's also a moto driver and guide if i need one.

awake! i can't sleep, but i'm tired. the people here are lovely, but it is a rough place, especially the mosquitoes. zika mosquitoes! i don't see them, but they see me. i'm probably wound up from the long bus ride, trying to connect with jose, and being a stranger here. my mind is spinning with thoughts and impressions of the day of how to make my money stretch or something i may have missed in port au prince. i think part of why benito was anxious to head back to delmas that afternoon making an excursion to the palace was that we were in the area of cite soleil, the largest and most violent ghetto in haiti. (i came to figure this out later). 

sometimes i feel like i'm navigating a dream in a black universe. 

citadelle
i woke up with a better attitude. the electricity was out. i learned that poor people don't have to pay for electricity, so the government conserves energy with rolling blackouts in the morning and evening.

edelin came by around 6:30am and we rode a moto off to breakfast. i had chicken with red sauce which was the best dish i've had here yet. from the restaurant we took a tap tap to milot about 30 minutes away. once there were got mobbed by a group young moto drivers, all jockeying for a customer. the amusing part was how they responded to me. 

' they think you're a beautiful woman. they all want to take you,' edelin said with a laugh.

' that's cute.' i said. ' i'm old enough to be their mother.'

i took a bathroom break. as my luck would have it my period had started. edelin worked it out with a good looking kid who smelled really nice. we rode 3 up on the moto, 30 minutes up to the visitor center. it was a stunning landscape of hillside jungle, coconut trees, the road dotted with shantys and small villages. from the visitor center we were greeted by more young men offering donkey rides, vendors (mostly women) selling handmade mortar and pestles and souvenirs. edelin worked it out with two young boys with a donkey, one to guide and one to lead. i rode while edelin followed behind on foot.

it was hot and i offered water to the boys guiding the donkey. the ride was cool, but i have a hard time being served when i travel. there is a kind of colonial mentality here of catering to anyone with a bit of money. i could have any child fetch me this or that for a dollar.

once to the top, i was hustled by the guides, a friend of edelin's, and the young boy who guided us through the citadelle. his english was modest, but i got the gist. he explained to edelin in kreyol that bricks used to build the structure were stained with cow's blood. the boy had the most stunning african face, but seemed profoundly sad and burdened. i asked edelin about that.

' poverty.' he said, a bit annoyed. ' struggle.' as if, you know in your heart what that is and how to endure it. 

the citadelle was vast with spiraling levels, an underground jail, canon rooms, and catacombs. other than  tikal it was one of the most extraordinary places i've ever seen. we were 900 meters up with spectacular views of the mountains and countryside. i could have stayed longer in wonder and meditation of the place, but it felt like i wasn't alone for a moment.

i decided to walk down and encouraged edelin to ride the donkey. he had a bit of a challenge trying to mount him, but he seemed to enjoy himself. the boys kept close to me; constantly watching my bag or my hands. (i realized that my day pack was conspicuous after that  and i've never used it again). they're hovering became tedious until i told them to move ahead of me.

 it would have been nice to walk alone in silence for awhile.

last night rosita plaited my hair. she had to comb my naps out, which are a problem because my hair is so long now. she took her time and i felt quite relaxed until a roach came flying at my face before disappearing into the sewer. i freaked out, although more surprise than fear. cholera! vermin death! i ran into the flat and put alcohol on a tissue and wiped my face. i sat back down and jokingly looked up as if to check for other flying vermin. rosita and i had a good laugh. haiti is exquisite, but i am fucking cool with the roaches.

johny walter

i hired johny, jose's neighbor, as my moto rider to cormier. it was a bout 30 minutes away over the hills of cap haitien. we hung out for a good while. talking in my broken french and he in his broken english. he needed to text his wife that he would be home soon, but his phone was dead. i offered to text her for him.

' j'taime!' i showed him.

he laughed awkwardly and shook his head. i asked him if everything was okay.

'it...it is difficult.' he said. i thought maybe he's alluding to the poverty they live in with four children. he told me a sad story about how his wife got pregnant with their first child when he was 24 and he didn't want the child in the streets without a father. so they got married, they stayed, and they had deborah and the twins. his parents didn't approve of his wife and rejected him for a long time.

' i needed the patience,' he said.

i went to the beach for a bit and when i came back he was gone. this concerned me a bit because jose mentioned he had done that to tourists before. so, i went looking for him and found him talking to a man that worked security. (in haiti security usually carry a rifle - in hotels, markets, and digicel shops).

' always tell a woman where you're going,' i said. 'i'm a foreigner here, yes but you must have  consideration.'

' i am sorry,' he said. ' this will not happen again.'

later i got him lunch and we left around 4:00pm and headed back to cap haitien. i paid him $20.00 for the day when we got back to nazon. i went into the courtyard of his house down the street, we were greeted by the children who by their reaction one would think i was michael jackson. i was  such a fascination to them. his wife said in kreyol that i looked tired and hungry. she was right. she was fussing at johny about his phone not working. he was holding one of the twins, gael, and for a moment he looked quite troubled; as though he was trying to figure something out. i took a beautiful shot of him and gael in that moment.

don't forget me.

at dinner he said he found me so interesting and thought of me all the time.

' do you think of me?'

'yes,' i said. ' i think you're interesting.'

'i knew that.'  he said. ' me too.'

' but you have a wife and children.'  i said.

we came back to rouelle nazon and we planned to go back to cormier. that's all i wanted to do - be in solitude and contemplation by the sea. in the morning i would get up early and sit on the platform of the house across the street. it was cooler there and i could see out onto nazon; houses and shantys stacked up into the hill. i would listen to the language and the women and occasionally someone would pass, 'bonjou.' they would say. one morning a couple was on their way to the church across from jose's place.

' bonjou, blanc. dominicaine?' the man asked.

'non,' i said. ' ma maman est blanc, je suis mulatte.'

johny and i did another excursion to cormier then another to san michel, which the boys told me about. that was an hour from cap haitien; a breathtaking ride through the valley surrounded by hills and through small \villages. we kissed for the first time there.  it was terribly sweet and awkward. we had to pay a small entrance fee and then went to look for a snack or drinks in the cafe near the beach. the man behind the counter had fruit juice which i sampled and could tell it had turned bad.

i gave johny some cash and he went to the street vendors. i sat and watched and listened for awhile. i saw him walking back; so tall and a bit awkward. he seems so gentle to me even from a distance. we sat and talked for hours as he ate a small container of lamdie.

' dave is cool.' he said, referring to his oldest son. ' sweet boy.'

he never spoke much about deborah; mostly the boys. that must be a cultural thing; that he knows what her fate will be in haiti.

' you have amazing eyes. light brown like mine.' i said. ' extraordinare.'

 it was getting close to 5:00pm when we left and we went back to rouelle nazon. i showered and chilled out on the balcony with rosita and the baby for awhile.  jose and edelin came by that evening as i had to pay jose for another few nights.

' so what is going with you and johny?' jose asked.

' yeah!' edelin said with a smile. ' you spend lot of time.'

'mmm, well he is a handsome man, very sweet...maybe in the next life. he has a wife.'

'maybe she is so not good for him,' edelin said. ' you are better.'

' i don't know about that, edelin. i'm different, just not haitian. i said i would help with the school fee for the babies because i can't pay him every day for the transport.'

' you would do that?' jose asked. ' that is so nice of you, lisa. wow.'

' i can try. he's a good man.'

'  i think maybe he is for you.'

i think maybe he is for you?  haitians make these allusions in their speech that sound poetic and almost like proverbs.  as i learn kreyol statements are full of aliterations : si m ta di kijan m santi m chak fwa m konnen m pral rankontre w. if i say how i feel every time, i know i'll meet you again.


johny + lisa (bonbagay)

one night after dinner at hotel picoulet, johny came back to the tiny flat with me. i was reluctant. then at one point he said to me, ' i am here.'  he was incredibly vulnerable and open in that moment. i closed the front door.

we went in the shower together. it was sweet and sensual. then just as we went for the bed, i heard his wife hollering outside the bathroom window in the alley adjacent to jose's place. all i heard was johny this and johny that and the hand-clapping of a black woman scorned.

we stopped. i scrambled to get my clothes on. ' you have to leave!' i said. 'go!'

' don't be afraid,' he said. 'she don't mean nothing.'

' no. you have to go!'

he got dressed and i scrambled to get my things together. as he went out, neighbors were already in the street and harriet, his wife was right outside the flat at the little gate, looking enraged and stressed out. rosita had by now posted up out on the balcony gate. she gestured for me to go inside and lock the door.

i stood there in the front room alone and for a moment very scared. i calmed myself down to get it together and think straight : the embassy is not in cap haitien. tell rosita to call jose and edelin right now. 

i opened the door. 'rosita!' i gasped. 'edelin and jose! telefon!' 

rosita sent each of them a text. she came inside and closed the door, ' c'est finis pour toi ici.' she said with a sigh.

i started to cry, but she calmed me down and told me not to worry, that there had been problems between them for a long time. (i could determine this by her tone and gesture).

jose and edelin arrived shortly after they got the call, they ran over from edelin's place. i was still rattled, but relieved they came.  even as they sat with me,  harriet continued carrying on down the street.

'she is a stupid woman.' edelin said. ' he took her because she got the baby. she was girl from the street. his parents did not approve of this thing. they say he can have the house, but they are finish with him.'

'yeah,' i said. ' he told me about that, but she's still his wife.'

' don't worry, lisa.' jose said. ' she always cause problem for him.'

edelin left to check on johny. i went outside and sat down. when he came back, he sat up on the balcony railing and chatted with rosita for awhile, listening to her retell what happened. 

' lisa, what go with you?' he asked finally. ' you are so quiet?'

' because i feel very bad.'

' don't worry, cherie.' he said. ' johny said to tell you he not himself right now. he so sad. he say to me he's going to stay with his neighbor and get drunk.'

i looked down the way and saw johny fussing with the gate to his neighbor's house. he looked beautiful in the dim light of the street. he said nothing and i said nothing.  at that point, i only wanted to be near jose and edelin.

it occurred to me later that in the chaos of that night the trajectory of my life had shifted.

i'm just getting this out in order to figure my shit out. today i was in love and feeling connected to johny. after having brunch with kamala i went to the market and got some insense. still high! at one point i sat in the car listening to ho hay. i belong to you, you belong to me my sweetheart...

when i got home i had a message from johny. we texted in french and he was having a problem with his voicemail not downloading. he mentioned recet and i told him to turn his phone and back on.

did he not understand reset?

at one point he went into a diabtribe that friends ask him when he will join me in the US. he doesn't brag, he said, but what should he tell them? he's only told jose and edelin.

this gave me pause. it's not up to me, i said. it depends on when you get your his visa and come here. i can't control the process in haiti or his own determination. i also think this was an indirect way of asking me when i'll bring him to the states. it was a bit strange; almost like a manipulation.

when i said it's up to him and his choice, he changed the subject.

what are you doing right now? 

at times i get this sense that he knows how to work me; that i like to talk and express feeling. i asked about the beautiful nadege story. he was with her for several years and before met harriet (he never mentioned harriet by name, only as the wife).  nadege was young, but harriet had the capacity for caring for the children. so he chose.

 i felt like i was hearing part of a story, not its entirety.

later during an exchange with edelin he said johny sometimes forwards my messages to either him or jose to help translate what i'm saying. the cat was out of the bag with that. first of all, i could be saying something private, that also feels like some corny haitian conspiracy to help johny keep me entangled. after learning about this, my love mania took a dip.

i found this out after telling edelin if johny isn't in miami by december i'll come back to cap haitien during my holiday break.

he said once that he watched me sleep at laurier one night. i was struck because i had watched him sleep. i wonder if he knew i did that and spun it to appeal to me? again to manipulate my affection for him? he is very sharp.

when i ask about lauren, he said simply 'i forget lauren'. which in his english means, ' i don't remember lauren.'

last sunday i heard him in my dream; running out of patience and asking for money. i also heard him with his wife; scheming ways to hustle the tourist women who find him attractive. i had two moments where i thought this was all bullshit : that the night of harriet's freak-out was a set-up and another at laurier, i felt my stomach turn as if to warn me about something.

but i went on, even with some degree of detachment. i wanted him. i had been on a high for days until sunday; everything came to a halt. some things he said didn't add up or i caught things in his messages.

' i understand you, fuck.....,' (running out of patience).

(translated from french). ' the young boys at picoulet ask me where is your wife? i say you went back to US. they said i should be with you, but i don't want to brag. what should i tell them?'

' what do you think?'

' lisa, i told you i don't want to brag. i haven't said anything to anyone except edelin and joz.'

'well, i hope you get your visa and get to miami by december. but anything you say is your choice.'

pause.

'what are you doing right now?'

it felt like a game, a manipulation. what was he trying to get at? i wonder if he's just desperate on some level.

but the dream revealed what i have been resistant to accept. it's all been a scam to help his family survive. there was a moment at laurier where i referred to harriet as the big woman, 

' who said that?' he asked.

'can you give me the 250 for the children? he asked as we laid in bed one night.  'this is important.'

'no i can't, mon cher. i have to things to take care of. i need a new car.'

maybe he prostitutes himself out when he can other than being a moto driver, to help support the family. from what edelin told me harriet was a prostitute herself at one time and he often uses the word 'bitch'. which in kreyol means woman.

'i've had many bitch here,.' then he catches himself. ' you too...many, many, but now only one.' ( so what are you saying? i'm a bitch as well?').

' you be a bitch for me....me too, for you.' (what the fuck is talking about? submission? who wants that?) 

i came to realise his statements were a mix of immaturity and street life filtered through broken english. he he couldn't express himself in a more articulate way. 

the haitian continues. he never gives up, he never backs down. we are destiny. we are the same. we are like a garden and our communication is like the rain. dude, what? who even talks like that?

i had a very hard day at work yesterday. i was so stressed out. i got home and chatted with edelin, then copied my messages to johny.

hello, ma belle. i was happy to get news from you, but stressed that you cry about job. 

mesi anpil, mon amour. don't worry. je suis une fanm tres forte. how are you?

i'm good, but i miss you alot. please don't cry. 

he can be sweet and compassionate of me. there are moments when i feel he is absolutely my person in the world. then i step back. it's a continuum. i am curious to go back during winter break and see what's up.

today edelin told me he spent most of the day with johny. he said he laments for me all the time. edelin drank with him a bit, but johny got a bit fucked up. where is my lisa?

i tell johny, just be cool man. she's coming back december for holidays. it's only a few months.

wednesday

at times i feel as if things are fucked. i meet this lovely man who understands me, but he's in haiti and i'm here in cali; a shithole of stress, privilege, and hypocrisy.  i get so bored with nichols, particularly busy-body lynn, and emails targeting those of us who smoke. go here, no go there, no go here. really what they want is for us to not smoke anywhere around the building.

lynn is a drag. she's asked me twice now about when julie is coming back; fishing to see if there's some conspiracy we're up to. i jokingly call her the nichols police. she seems to have two switches : her health or in other people's business. her second query today about julie i ignored and went on chatting with sarah.

then there's stress around work, particularly working with christopher.  i  can't get anything done and he volleys everything back to me - even my words. in the time he wastes with his nit-pickery, he should just do the shit himself. it's becoming tedious to me and i doubt i can continue on like this.

alas, i need my fucking job to live. i have to save money to go back to haiti over winter break. that's my biggest goal right now.

i finally connected with sherry. jose was stressed out and missing her. i think, some days are overwhelmingly hard and he wonders if it will work, if he will be with her again. she's a medical student without a steady income so this makes petitioning for him difficult. she mentioned she's not in the best living situation but has to stay so that she has a fixed address.

she said airbnb has suspended them hosting travelers.  she wasn't suprised really; she received complaints about the water situation and communication issues with edelin and his english. she said he was stubborn and not open to learning to improve it (true).  sherry was sad about the whole thing because this allowed jose to make some money.

' americans are so high maintenance,' she said.

' i know. i could tell by how you wrote to me.'

' i love jose, but there are moments when i think the whole thing is a scam. you know, logic is rational. love is irrational.'

' girl, i've had the same thought about johny.'

' this whole thing has made my life harder, but also better.'

'yes!'

les raisins de la raison

johny and i continue, through fits and starts, unstable wifi connection, and blackouts. we chat every morning and evening during the week. weekends as well, if his phone is charged and when he has downtime from running the moto taxi.

at this point the plan is for his sister milande to petition for his visa. i had been anxious to start looking for a job in miami after j-term, but realized this was impetuous. i have no idea how long his visa process will take. there are many variables to consider and i need to maintain my stability. i want to stay with PLTS through one more academic year.

i've been also struggling with the black dog. some days are better than others. i think it's a combination of stress around work, the uncertainty of what lay ahead - with the seminary, with johny. i panicked a bit last week because i was getting less email than usual.  i'm feeling quite vulnerable these days.

i didn't have a good  session last week. a new clinical student kept bringing up my fee, when i needed to sort things out. she added to my stress. i wrote to the clinic about the issue, but haven't heard back. do i go to session tomorrow? i need to maintain therapy for my own well-being, it's been hard reconciling ma's death, demands around work, and the situation with johny.  i always seem to choose the hard way through and to things.

of course i get a message from carl on fB. i messaged him that i met a man in haiti. i don't know why he still pops up - 12 years later. i suspect with his hand out, which was usually the case. maybe he senses something. when i see pictures of him now he looks small, tattered, and beat. as though in all these years he has not grown at all.

tired. sometimes i feel like i can't catch up. work is one continuous, fascinating process of figuring shit out and making it happen either on my own or helping someone else.  today i was in a meeting and caught myself deep in thought about johny and smiled. it was as though my spirit was someplace else.

' last tuesday....a woman call me for moto taxi. after, she say me -' johny i love you'. i do nothing. no! baton chocolat dead because i only see you. your spirit like the police with the control. only for you, bb. mwen renmen ou.' 

he cracked me up with that. i mean, okay - sure.  i'm not there, his actions are his decision. maybe he's all for real? it could be.

i don't want you bring the big bag - no. come back, please. i need your presense. to see you, to touch you, spend all time. just to come back, bb. 


i'm feeling burned out and hope i can make it to winter break. my work seems like all the endless catching up to people who constantly change shit up then being held accountable to catching each change trying to make everyone happy. never let a detail fall through the crack, even when i don't know what that detail is.  wait...what?  i suppose it's the nature of academic administration.

i sleep alright these days. i still wake up in the middle of the night with dust allergies. grrr! but i solider on. this weekend was hard because i was feeling mad stress around work, planning this trip to haiti (cost, flights, otome), getting my errands done, and cleaning the apt (julie doesn't do this because she can't manage to get off her ass and clean the kitchen and bath and yet she's home all the time. i'm starting to resent this paying her equal rent, but in the end got over it. a clean space trumps equity).  i was also feeling anxious about johny and the wife. eek! everything it seems is on me and i don't have the capacity for it.

it's clear to me something is underlying their ridiculous pandering to CLU. i suspect they're probably insecure about their own positions. 30 days to improve when I'm doing a kick-ass job? i wanted to leave well; to stay consistent and stable into the move and complete another academic year. i've been giving consideration to those where none is given in return.

it's really a no-win situation. going on and on about 2s when i go above and beyond to bring order to chaos and make them look good to CLU.  the timing is perfect after planning my trip back to haiti over winter break. great! well, it is what it is.  my disposition will now change.

i got home and chatted with julie, but she has little capacity for real-life, work-related stress. she was as supportive as she could be. she lapsed into her own frustrations about school and switching majors, which at times she appears almost on the verge of tears. i try to listen and support, but she gets stuck in her loop. everyone is in collusion against her to make her own decisions, which have no guarantees. sooner or later this all ends and she has to get a job.

she mentioned taking a holiday job at the lego store in SF, but i highly doubt she'll follow-through. still, i offered to help with her CV and resume if she needed.

i was feeling uncertain about johny cakes after sending him money to help with moto taxi maintenance.  i've sent him $ 200.00 within 4 months. the back-up was supposed to help with the phone situation, which is somewhat better. i told him i was counting on him to find a good price on a guesthouse. he messaged me today that the owner of one place told him to wait and that he knows the haitian system and doesn't want him to ask for more.

yeah, well. she didn't respond to my last message. i'll try to book with her later, but i doubt she'll accept it because of johny being haitian.  as always it's all on me to make shit happen. i'm burned out with that, but i made a choice to go back.

i've been having weird dreams. i had one where i was back at laurier with johny and i felt that same sinking sense in the pit of my stomach i had one night. i was baffled as to what that was about. i was safe and he was sweet. i had another where my face was covered with what looked like bruises.

maximum bad, some well

i haven't written here in a long time. i've been putting maximum energy into work, to improve the situation with christopher only to have leslie flip and nick-pick. i've come to see the bigger picture that i'm simply caught in the cross-hairs of behind-the-scenes corporate institutional politics and uncertainties about the seminary move to downtown berkeley.

things just don't jive despite my best efforts and good works; going above and beyond to transition to webex, to improve processes. i come out of one meeting, beat down by christopher or another only to be blind-sided by leslie. it's a no-win situation. after that i decided i can only control my attitude and how i deal with it. that was it. i started applying to positions in the southeast. what am i fighting for?
i don't want to stay at PLTS through this move or even in the bay area with its soul-crushing cost of living. for what?

sunday

well, monday evening and i'm off. i'm feeling alright, if at times mad doubt crowds my mind. what am i doing? what am i going into? is this relationship even sustainable? senay contacted me to hang out and i obliged. he's cool people. be social, i thought. keep connections. we went to an arcade in alameda then talked over margaritas and tortilla chips.

i told him about johny. i need to go back and find out more about this man. senay was cool and respectful. a grown ass dude.

then today, after not hearing from johny for a few days he messaged me, please love tell me only you and i. whaaaat? extraordinary. he must have sensed another man had appeared. the dude is connected in some way.

i still experience doubts and apprehension. the asking for money during sexy time, the next morning i ventured out on my own headed to picoulet and he came up on the road on his moto. he had a look on his face: less an expression of affection than concern i had figured him out. then at picoulet he wanted to have a important conversation.

i think you question to continue with me. he said,

how do you know that? i asked. well, that was wrong what you did. i think this is all a line.

he rubbed his face, it seemed out of frustration. ' forgive me.' he said finally.

later he messaged me to forget about money and only focus on the love.

then another time, when talking about his children and the possibility of bringing them to the states when they are older. he gave me a vauge response; his english wavering about how they have an advantage in haiti. i think about that conversation and how much time he hangs out in the street away from home. then i reflect on the night precious tripped out, carrying on about he's never home or doesn't spend time with her anymore (as edelin translated for me). this gives me pause that he simply is looking for a way out and to find a black american woman like me is a rare chance.

i care for him and i'm deeply attracted to him, but i'm cautious. i expressed my doubts in therapy and that i approach the move to florida as a change primarily for myself. a new chapter. whether johny gets his visa together, has the support of his father and sister, i have no control over the outcome of that. if he makes it, we'll figure it out. if not, i go on.

i'm always looking for clues it seems, i told sandra in session, to confirm my doubts. i came across a forum on marriage fraud. an american woman had married a haitian in haiti. his papers were sent to her sister in chicago. when they reached miami, he flipped. it was all a scam to be reunited with his girlfriend there. the wife was devastated, then it got worse. he got arrested on a misdemeanor and still she bailed him out. he's been trying to fight being deported saying that his wife has his papers. it was a sad story.

i haven't spoken to sherry in a month. i don't want to stress her out after the fiasco with jose's visa interview (all the bureaucracy and planning and the young dude forgot his passport). her flight wasted, his time wasted. they have to start over and wait for another interview between march - may. he was upset with himself, but i thought really mature. i know sherry struggles with her own doubts and that probably shook her resolve. i have a soft spot for young love. in some ways i'm more optimistic about them than my situation with johny. they're young, they have time. i'm going to be 50 and johny has four children.


i hink perhaps i've cracked the puzzle. johny said, after my visit, that his father was going to FL first to visit murlande, then he would come maybe september. when i  asked about this recently his voice went up and i heard the ' i only have one way. i don't give people the line.'

he plans to stay in haiti and have access to his father's land and property for financial gain and for hid children. this is likely why he never pursued coming to the US before. i suppose i was the perfect ploy to get back into his father's good graces - an educated, american sister.

hey there, lefty!

leftorium (c) matt groening

Being left-handed in a right-handed world has always been a challenge for me. Dinners and lunches seated next to right-handed people often involved elbow-bashing and awkwardness. I am forever dropping bits of food and salad from my fork as I try to engage in conversation and monitor my motor skills.

Lefties have to take a few extra seconds to asses how to pick something up and the spacial relationship around it. For example, dropping one's keys, with papers and a cup of coffee in hand in a busy break room. When I cook i usually work from the right-side burners so that my left hand is free to manipulate utensils and whatnot. I never thought about this until a friend mentioned it to me recently; it was just a natural thing. 

Only 10% of the human population is left-handed. Left-handed people are right-brained, which is where creativity and spacial relationships are processed (in theory, we could navigate outer space and the eternal void with relative ease). I rely on this ability since everything for me is the opposite. My intuitive right is left so auditory directions can be hard for me to process. I have to repeat what I hear. It's also difficult for me to navigate crowded spaces as I'm carrying a shopping basket at my left and bump into people unintentionally. I say 'excuse me,' alot, even preemptively. It takes me a minute to figure which line is appropriate because I naturally go left and I don't read. 

I was checking out a Muay Thai gym several years ago. It's a bad-ass sport I like because I've always dreamed of being an action star. The workouts were hard and I was a complete nerd.  I could never get the trainer's demo the first time because the shit made no sense. I always kick, punch, bat, shoot, and throw from my left. The trainer would say, ' Oh, you're a south paw!' (or compare me to some obscure boxer from 1935). I'd get a quick one on one tutorial in reverse. That was very kind.

In elementary and middle school I was all about kickball and softball. I was a power kicker and hitter. I was fierce and fast part of the Bad News Bears! I was super bad and unstoppable, that is, until I fell or stumbled, face down in one big splat of clumsy non-bad assness. Stick to Judy Blume and V.C. Andrews, kid. You're not gonna make the team.

In high school I went in the different of less physically challenging direction of art and AP english. Yet still I would struggle with finding a left-appropriate space in art class. I always felt like the oddball; trying to find the right balance with my brushes, charcoal, and graphite. I developed a callous on my second finger which looks like a little nub. i would ice it regularly because I was a prolific teenage genius. My hand would cramp from writing stream-of-consciousness journal entries (these usually started with, 'Biology sucks!' ' Valley Girl was awesome!' or 'John puked on me at the party, but I still love him!' followed by an in-depth analysis of my feelings).  When I got a typewriter this greatly solved my manual writing dilemma.

As an adult into my 30s, I joined several co-workers, all dudes, in a game of basketball. They were more experienced and technically savvy than I was, but I still managed to get in a shot or two. I got the left-handed jabs and jokes and someone mentioned an obscure left-handed basketball player from the 1970s. Struggling to keep up, I over-compensated and my brain short-circuited with which way to go. I went down hard. Splat! My friends rallied around me, hands outstretched to help me up ' Damn Lisa, are you okay?'

I was pissed. 'Get off me! Treat me like anyone else. I'm not some delicate flower! Fuck! ' 

' Dang, dude. We're just tryna be gentlemen.' (It's hard to stay irrationally mad at the nice guy because your clumsy ass is embarrassed).

hand by Leonardo da Vinci

Lefties can write either with the hand vertical or, in some cases, with the hand bent and arched to the right. I'm in the latter category and this took lots of practice over time.  We can sometimes have not-so-good penmanship because of the angle we hold a writing instrument (lefties make lots of loops and letters tend to tilt).  I strive for a writing style somewhere between an architect and graffiti. Again, loads of practice. I'm still awed by clean, neat, san-serif penmanship that most righties seem to do effortlessly. 

Being an outsider and a lefty simply adds to my beguiling allure. I learned that there are an array of famous lefties: Barak Obama, Leonardo da Vinci, Paul Klee, Pablo Picasso, Telly Savalas, Mark Twain, James Baldwin, Judy Garland, Whoopi Goldberg, Robert De Niro, David Bowie, and Oprah Winfrey among them. There is also a cartoon lefty: Bart Simpson. I would stoked if Foghorn Leghorn was a lefty. He's my spirit homie. 

The word sinister comes from the latin word sinistra meaning 'left'. The french word for left is gauche, which has been borrowed in english to mean clumsy or awkward. Historically, left-handed people were a sign of the devil. School children were forced to write with their right hand or face the lash. Lefty persecution went on well into the 20th century. I remember my first grade teacher trying to correct my left-handedness. I revolted. There were tears and busted crayons were involved.

There is other interesting data about the lefty brain: we're at a higher risk of psychosis (Jack the Ripper for example, was a lefty). We hear speech differently and use both sides of the brain to process language. We tend to be artistic and make for good boozer poets (nice!).  We also have a holiday, International Left-Handers Day, which is observed annually on August 13th.  When this falls on a Friday the 13th, this is further proof we are indeed in league with the dark lord. This is a day of lefty recognition and awareness. The struggle is real! We have issues like the chronic dropping of cutlery, the insanity of eating a salad, and the fact that scissors are completely wrong. 

It's a bit like being handicapped in a right-handed world. 

mslisa is left-handed as fuck. 

really, queen?

i've always adored rupaul since i used to see him in the clubs in new york. this endlessly tall and beautiful drag queen. these were the days when paper magazine was still young and i loved all manner of things house and punk. times square was also a hot mess of human wreckage and i enjoyed it.  the gay clubs were a blast because the creativity was astounding and there were no straight squares to bug you. it was a fun and stark contrast to punk shows and chaos. i learned how to be a lady from the children. i had two gay darlings, one trans who i hung out with back then. they were puerto rican and taught me all manner of things; how to stay safe on the street, how to work my face and hair. i was such a low-femme punk girl nerd.

' girl, a banana is a puerto rican, a raisin is a black dude, and a snowflake is a white dude. so you'd say something like ' that banana was giving me tray. tray is dick cuz you can serve up some dick. or that snowflake was all up in my la cara. la cara means face.' 

tony and jamie used to carry hand held mirrors and switch blades in their purses. they were banji girls, inner glamazons from washington heights. we'd go to dark clubs where the dudes were hooligans; all lithe tattooed torsos, low slung jeans, and adidas. the girls liked rough boys. i'd support friends in drag shows at boy bar and red zone. i still have lady bunny fliers and an illustration i did of leigh bowery with phoebe leger then (she was an actual woman, but still looked like a drag queen who played an accordion among other things). i've always been fascinated by the illusion of drag, the theater, and fashion.

i got a glimmer of  bianca del rio on rupaul's drag race and i cycled through a few seasons. it takes me awhile to catch up and i usually do it in reverse. i spend more time reading than watching anything. bianca i knew of because of her hilarious stand-up. her style is old school like don rickles at the copacabana. she does clown-face drag in hourglass-cut, sequined dresses and spiraling bouffants.

bianca del rio (c) chad sell comics

 i watched the season bianca won and became fascinated with the other queens as i got into it. their make-up techniques and characters, the avant garde of max and pearl who don't wear padding and use their boyish bodies as part of their performance. the generational gap is often hysterical with the young queens in their 20s using the most nonsensical words and phrases. adore delano's (season 7) is priceless:

' party!  hash tag hog-body! hash tag fail! what the fuck, bitch?! ' 

' i thought max looked really cool and avant-garde even though i don't know what that means.' 

' he was in my face all...flazeda.'  said pearl. 

'bitch, whaat? '

pearl got so many jokes out of that non-word she made a perfume out of it. drag gibberish can become a thing. how is cool is that? 

this is entertainment reality so the drama is of course ratcheted up with cheeky cat-fights and reads. there are moments of my story; the sad or sweet tale of coming out, the supportive family, or the harsh childhood. there is always a tale of woe, because we all go through some things and none are immune from the human condition.  there are the old school beauty pageant queens like kennedy davenport and ginger minj whose costumes remind me of dynasty. ginger, with her southern drawl, refers to herself as a glamour toad (hilarious!).

bob the drag queen is a revelation. he's hilariously funny and his reads are legend. ' is beyonce afraid of britney?' he'll ask, looking into the camera with a straight face.  he'll take the racist, stereotype characters of crazy eyes, mix that with buckwheat and turn the madness from the past and the present in on itself - in drag.  genius!

bob the drag queen (cunt) (c) chad sell comics

i have a soft spot for the weirdos like max, trixie mattel, pearl, katya, and adore. they're fascinating in their boyishness, but still look amazing in drag. max is a 6'5 creature out of un chien andalou.  he often wears his hair a metallic gray. violet chachki channels dita von teese, but dragger. she is bananas. you may have seen her reversible tartan plaid jumper walk that went viral. yes, she made that. she's also strikingly good-looking as boy or drag. the bitch destroys!  adore is part punk, part rag doll. some drags, like adore, actually sing and record electro pop albums with original titles such as after party (i'm learning that with millennials an event comes first, then that's followed by an after-party. it's all quite sequential). 

trixie mattel (c) chad sell

laganja estranja is a very thin boy who does a trixie voice to excess (the over the top femme caricature). she's obsessed with weed and has designed horrible jewelry illustrating this. she was an immature, emotional mess. like a child who escaped a bad molly trip at an EDM festival gone horribly wrong. you know, the kid that says ' i almost died!' i do have hope for laganja as she grows up.

laganja estranja (c) chad sell comics

alaska thunderfuck i adore mostly for her name. she has the most amazing high femme gestures and movement; strutting fluidly in stilettos. can you walk in stilettos? i can not said the cat. she also does an hilarious anna wintour impression. last season violet usually won every runway challenge.  she's really stunning, whether in a corset cinched within an inch of her life, or her bearded drag in a 1950s dior inspired a-line dress. she even managed to make a rainbow clown jumper look cool. she also does aerial burlesque if you can imagine such a thing.

violet chachki (tartan realness) (c) chad sell comics

aesthetically i adore violet's and max's vintage-inspired glam. i find classic or unusual style to be  much more compelling than trendy. ombre and i are not friends. still, i adore the artistry and performance of drag and the illusion of gender. it interesting to me that drag can be somewhat paradoxically feminine.

        max (c) chad sell

 i love the idea of mystery and allure, but this generation has no interest in mystery or allure.  no one is really quiet anymore. everyone has ADD or speaks in made-up words like game-changer, acro-yoga or brand.  to me a brand is a cereal or a cleaning product that gets the job done. i'm such a geezer i have no idea how these girls ever have time to twitter or instagram between shows and tours. i deleted facebook off my phone because the struggle is real. i have an existentialist dilemma with apps.

now sissy that walk! 

one thing i'm hardcore about is having the bravery to be oneself.  not to be hip or impress or conform to any cultural trend or norm. authentic is savagely beautiful to me. i'm a straight anomaly, particularly for a black woman who has loved rude boy style and vintage since the 1980s. i've always been a weirdo who did my own thing.  a friend was aghast i would dare go to an industrial show in overalls and yet still be a mistress of the dark realm. there's no rule book that says spooky equals the absence of color or denim. i think i've always secretly been a drag queen, just too lazy to live the dream. these girls put in work! it's staggering and exhausting the shenans they have to go through on drag race. i'm content to be my regular fish self, chillin at home in my african-print rompers, rooting for the weird children.

 my goal is always to come from a place of love, but sometimes you just got to break it down for a motherfucker. - rupaul

words with real bishes : cori

                                                               

welcome to the current install of words with real bishes! a forum for us to speak our minds about our shared experiences. note: in the black queer community, people are often referred to as family.

you see our beatbox is fresh and will blow your mind!

today i welcome cori, a brilliant artist and fascinating human person. you can check out her website here.

mslisa: to begin, tell me how we met?

cori: we were both artists in the in search of sheba art show in oakland. that was like over a year ago. there were 12 of us in the show. we met opening night, just hanging out. it was cool.

mslisa: where are you from originally?

cori: from chicago, the south side.

mslisa : what brought you to california?

cori: well...everything. what i wanted to do seemed more accessible on the west coast. my art, freedom, including being gay.

mslisa: no snow.

cori: no snow, no shoveling, no ice. that's really all i need to say - the weather. 

mslisa: when did you know you were family?

cori: in college doing my undergraduate study.

mslisa: tell me about the context of your work?

cori: my subjects are primarily women and women of african descent. i think i mostly paint black women because i see myself reflected more in my art. i believe there's a lot of strength in our culture and i want people to know who we are. i like to see (our bodies) in different angles, in prayer, or dancing, or in deep thought. it's interesting to me.

mslisa: tell me about your relationships with women?

cori: what do you want to know? that's a layered question.

mslisa: let me re-frame that :  what is happening in your relationships with women?

cori: right now not a whole lot (laughs). it's kind of hard to explain. i need that initial attraction, but for me personally there has to be an intellectual attraction as well. i find women more interesting. they share more, they're more open to being open. i speak from a place of being a lesbian and i have been for most of my life. i don't have a whole lot of experience to compare in terms of men. for me and what i've learned, women are just more fascinating to me.

mslisa: i agree.

cori: boredom for me is not an option either. men can totally bore me. sometimes i may get in a conversation with a dude and i'll  be like, 'man, i got to have you in my life!' but that's rare.

mslisa: would you ever be in a relationship with a man?

cori: sure. he'd have to be the right guy though. i learned this term recently - pansexual. have you heard of it?

mslisa: yes, but i'm not sure how that's defined. i'm still trying to figure out what cisgender means.

cori : i've never heard of that.

mslisa : girl! no clue.

cori: well the pansexual term is new to me. so is masculine of center, which is a fancy way of saying butch.

(laughter) 

 it's true! so what was the question? pansexual! i'm learning that i don't necessarily identify as much with being a butch lesbian as i thought i did. i would be open to a relationship with a guy if the connection was there, but i also love the energy of women.

mslisa :  the feminine sensual.

cori: yeah! what it is is that i find beauty in all human creatures. we're all accessible on some level. if i got to know someone and connected with them on a spiritual level and fell in love with that person that has meaning.

mslisa: regardless of gender?

cori: oh yeah. i think that's what makes me pansexual. i'm just discovering this about myself. i could love anyone. we all have free will to love who we want, but i know a lot of people in the gay community who have zero desire to entertain a relationship with the opposite sex.

mslisa: is there a degree of conformity in the lesbian community?

cori: i think so. i don't want to be placed in a box. i don't really care what you do, but i'm open to learning new things. i'm more concerned with being seen as a person and not just a butch lesbian to fulfill some role. if you think you know who i am - it's already over.

mslisa: right. i think it's important for us as black women not to carry all these assumptions towards one another.

cori: totally! i actively practice non-judgement and if i mess up, i check myself about forming (too many) opinions about people.

mslisa: ooo...i was doing that recently.

cori: we all do it. it's human nature. it protects us in some way. it's a quality that we all have and need, but i also don't want to be limited by my own prejudices.

mslisa: what do you mean by your own prejudices?

cori:  i consider myself the stereotypical angry black woman. i have issues with people outside of my community. i feel like the world is unfair - damn white people!  it's obvious that i'm prejudice. the fact that they're more likely to get whatever they want than i am. even if i get angry about it it's not going to make a difference. i'm still not going to get that thing. i notice my frustration is not hurting me, but it's not helping me either. it's not helping me heal, it's not helping me be more successful.

so i try to think differently and not get too deep into that. i try to see myself as selfless, kind, diplomatic, and loving. for me all of that is transcendence.  i can't get there if i'm angry all the time. i can't be that person if i want to be truly happy. who wants to die angry and bitter?

mslisa: i've seen that happen to black folks, particularly older generations. just mad all the time. they have property, they have money in the bank, they're safe, but their experiences being in america just broke them down i guess.

cori: exactly. i grew up where most of my friends were white in school.

mslisa: on the south side?

cori: yes, in the suburbs. then i went to college at SIU in southern illinois. i played softball and ruby. the only black girl on everything. that was my life for years. being out here is a whole other experience for me. i only have one white friend here. it's weird.  the point i'm making is that the world totally shaped who i am. i would have never said i had prejudice before, but now i realize i have a lot of hang-ups. i'm not making this up. this is me living life and having real interactions with people. being called a nigger and being told some shit that is clearly inappropriate and then having to process that when i didn't even expect it.

i was mostly taught, you don't really want to trust white people. at the time i didn't know about people the way i do now, but i'm still very cautious.

mslisa: i think we have to be sometimes. it's interesting to me with all the discourse going on now, particularly in the liberal and progressive community, that there's a sort of cognitive dissonance. i don't think they realize that to a lot of black folks white people are all the same; liberal and conservative.

cori: that's true. they don't see that, but then how could they?  i have one friend who is hanging on for dear life. i'm trying to hold their hand through the process. i don't need my friends to change who they are, but i need them to be compassionate and aware and thoughtful. that means you have to pay attention. you can't be self-involved. and don't ever say that racism isn't a problem anymore. you can't discount so many hundreds of years of oppression.  you can't pretend that something doesn't exist when it clearly does.

mslisa: i think as well, those communities tend to be isolated, despite their politics. everyone around them is a reflection of themselves; of similar backgrounds and shared progressive values. black folks also can isolate themselves. that's not me. i'm in the world and i'm not afraid of those uncomfortable conversations or spaces. i also have white relatives. i think for us to be healthy human beings, we have to be in the world with other people and not isolate ourselves.

cori: i agree. i'm isolating myself from white people mostly because of my issues, but i'm trying to heal myself.  it difficult because i can't deal with them.

mslisa: but corey you're a highly functioning individual.

cori: well, you're a sister, you see me, and you listen. you're like the second person i've talked to all week. i mean, i'm here, but i'm intolerant. i can't deal with white people. if i hear something fucked up or someone says something fucked up, i get all emotional and it throws me off. i feel like i have to protect myself.

mslisa: so you're walls are up?

cori: yeah, they're pretty high and i'm okay with that. i know it's not going to be this way forever. i'll change and over time i'll heal. being out in the world and interacting with people and getting more angry isn't helping. so yeah...that's real life and real talk. i don't know. i have to be more brave i guess.

mslisa: well you're being brave right now, putting yourself out there. talking to you is healing for me because i understand. we all have our struggles, fears, and anxieties.

cori: totally. i just want to be in a place where i can be confident enough to stand up for myself. right now i'm not.

mslisa : do you think that's going to be a hard process?

cori: i don't know. i really don't.

mslisa: do you feel that a lot of this discontent comes from being in america?

cori: yeah. i think i need to get out of the country for awhile. i mean, this vacation i'm about to have is going to change my life. i need a different perspective. i need to see outside the humanity that exists for me here. this is not us. like you and refa were talking earlier about africa and traveling. what's happening here in america is not us. everything i'm supposed to assimilate to is foreign to me. i'm bored here.

mslisa: bingo! i'll tell you, i've traveled a lot and i've been gone for weeks, months. it helped me unravel my american mind.

cori: right right! see, i need that. all i need is a frame of reference - even for my art. i need more depth of experience that is not just my black american experience.

mslisa: you know, one of my paintings in the sheba show i finished after being in belize for awhile.  i married a garifuna dude, i was running around in the jungle. i was teaching secondary school girls and bicycling to work every day. i didn't see a white person for daaaaays. it was like there were nothing but black people in the world. it was a trip! in my experiences abroad, i learned to devalue a lot of american things. in order to live here and survive you get caught up in the whole matrix. you can see it. people freaking out. it's a neurosis. whether it's about sex, money, success, envy; breaking their backs over a $ 600,000.00 mortgage. the fuck?! i'm cool with the american circus, the culture. i don't value it. i've disciplined myself to be somewhat detached, which is challenging because we are in it unfortunately.

cori: i hear you.

mslisa: it all came to a grinding halt for me around 2008. i couldn't afford to leave as long as i did before. i went to guatemala again in 2009, but i had to hustle hard to do that trip for just two weeks.

cori: me too! 2008 was all fucked up. i had a corporate job and that ended, which in a way is a good thing. if i was still doing that i wouldn't have time for anything, especially my art. i was making good money, but i was stressed the hell out. i didn't even take advantage of it like taking the time to travel. i was caught up in my grind.

mslisa: this is cool. we're really getting into it!  so, tell me about jimi's haze?  i like that piece.

cori: jimi hendrix has always been one of my favorite iconic musicians. (in my work) i like to match the spirit of who the person is or was. jimi's passion was unmatched in his time.

mslisa: one of your images, cori pillows was used in the flyer for the sheba show. can you tell me about that?

cori: she's from a portrait i did. pamela (the curator of in search of sheba) wanted to use her for the flyer and show poster. i was honored really. she represents the natural beauty in us and the community.

mslisa: it's a lovely piece. i kept a bunch of those flyers.

cori: thank you!

mslisa: you know, i never get used to seeing my name in a show. it trips me out. my art is kind of a private process. it's difficult for me to put it out there. i'm also lazy about getting my shit together, but when i do it's quite amazing the feedback i get. i don't see what others see because i'm the creator and rather critical of my work. i'm always thinking and reassessing and thinking; about composition, line, form, and texture. i can go for hours. basquait said being an artist is a constant process of addition and subtraction.

cori: i totally feel you on all of that. he was right!

mslisa: thank you for talking with me and being so open, sis.

cori: thank you!

words with real bishes : irma

                                                                             
Welcome to the latest install of Words with Real Bishes. I created this as a response to the current state of issues around race and gender in America, particularly for women of color. Since we don't control the media, what I do read or see is often filtered through a white gaze. I want us to speak for ourselves, to be our own media. Like Jodeci said, come and talk to me! 

Today I welcome my dear friend Irma. My nickname for her is Queen Irma because she is. We grew up together in Berkeley. I've always been impressed by her resilience, genuine kindness, and enduring charm. She also has the coolest laugh.

MsLisa:  Tell me how we met?

Queen: Girl, we met in 9th grade at what was West Campus back in the day. It's part of the Berkeley Adult School now.

MsLisa: What do you remember about us in 9th grade?

Queen: Well, we were teenagers trying to navigate life and figure things out through music and observing the people around us. You were the creative and artistic one. Between Celine and U, we were trying to find our voices, too.  We did bond over James Dean. He was our dead man crush (laughs).

Mslisa:  Who were La Blue Eyes and Geronimo?

queen: La Blue Eyes and Geronimo! (laughs) Geronimo was Matteo - I definitely remember him. He was so fine!  La Blue Eyes was this dude Aaron you had a crush on. We used code names in the notes we'd pass to each other in class. Nerd girls! (laughs).

MsLisa: When we went to Berkeley High for 10th grade, we didn't see each other as much. What do you think happened?

Queen: I believe our worlds opened up more once we went to 10th grade. West Campus was small. At Berkeley High we didn't have the same classes or hang out with the same people. It's a big school.

MsLisa:  How do you define Berkeley Black?

Queen: A Berkeley Black person who is not necessarily defined by being black. We're different culturally than say folks in Detroit or Atlanta, even Oakland. We grew up in a very diverse city exposed to all sorts of things.  Sure, I was a young black girl in Berkeley, but I loved going to the James Dean festival or to see Dance Craze at the UC Theater.

Mslisa: Berkeley High was the first public high school in the country to have an African American Studies curriculum. Did you take that class?

Queen: Nope. I didn't take that class or Swahili (which Berkeley High still offers as a language elective - hella cool!), but we had a lot of other options.

Mslisa: Back then you loved Adam and the Ants and David Bowie. What about their music appealed to you?

Queen: Well, the 80s was a very androgynous era. Adam fit the bill. He wasn't gender-specific. I loved the double drummers of the band and their lyrics had no connection to anything really. David Bowie too - the androgynous thing.  His voice is like a meditation to me. His lyrics are interesting and very symbolic.

MsLisa: What's your favorite Bowie album?

Queen: Bow Live. I think it came out around 1977.

MsLisa: After high school where did life take you?

Queen: I went straight to UC Berkeley for summer school. At the time it was just me and my mom. She wasn't in good health and I was also taking care of her.

MsLisa: Did you graduate from UC berkeley?

Queen: No. I had to drop out. My mother stopped working so the household responsibilities fell to me. Someone had to pay the bills. (sighs)

MsLisa: Do you resent that that happened?

Queen: Yeah, a little.

MsLisa: So, at a young age you had to go to work. Did you settle down with anyone during that time?

Queen: Yes, I've always been a serial monogamist. I was with Prentiss for for 15 years and we had two beautiful children. I met him at Berkeley High. Prentiss passed away in 2003.

MsLisa: Tell me about your kids?

Queen:  My kids are awesome! They're cute and really fascinating people. They helped me learn more about myself as a person and as a parent. They helped me develop my own belief system.  I feel like i have a degree in psychology now. (laughs)

MsLisa: What are your kids doing now?

Queen: My daughter just finished her first year at UC Merced. We lost PJ in a car accident about 5 years ago. I was actually closer to PJ when I think about it. He was an optimistic and lively kid. People just adored him! I think a lot of people appreciated that he was so genuine and caring. As he got older I had abandoned the whole traditional church thing, but PJ went to church every Sunday.

MsLisa: What church did he go to?

Queen : Progressive Baptist Church in Berkeley. After he lost his dad, I believe, he abandoned religion.

MsLisa: How did you cope with losing a partner and a child?

Queen: Girl, one breath at a time. Lots of therapy and lots of crying.

MsLisa: Did you have a good support system around you through all that? 

Queen : I have an incredible support system and a lot of love. It could be a hug from someone or a text message. I appreciate all of that very much. 

MsLisa : Tell me about the day of the accident?

Queen: It was around 1:00pm. I called PJ and I asked him if he had taken the cat to the vet. He said, ' Yeah, I took the cat to the vet. I'm driving with Kyle right now.' I heard Kyle say ' Hi ' in the background. The accident happened about 20 minutes after that call. It's interesting to me that he had posted a thing on Facebook the day before that said 

' Tomorrow is going to be short.' 

MsLisa : How did you find out about the accident?

Queen: I had come home from the store. I noticed there was a police car across the street. This cop approached me and asked me if we could go inside to talk. I said, ' You're making me nervous. Are the boys okay? '  Then he asked me, '...Is someone here with you? '

Then finally he told me what happened. They identified PJ by my name, which was tattooed on his left arm and Amri's name was tattooed on his right arm. He had his phone with him, his ID, and his uncle's watch. I still have the watch in a plastic bag. It reminds me of how Yoko Ono held on to John's blood-stained eyeglasses. I had been keeping a journal for PJ since he was a baby and he'll never read it. We had plans and everything - all of that was cut short. He never even finished the Harry Potter series, which he absolutely loved.

MsLisa : Do you feel he's still with you?

Queen: No. He's in my heart and Amri's for sure. He was my kid. Do I feel like he passed to another realm and he's watching over us? No. 

MsLisa: What has sustained you since that happened?

Queen: My daughter Amri.  I certainly wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her. I still have moments where I just fall apart. I can't listen to Forever Young by Alicia Keys. I can't hear Drake because he loved Drake. He never had the chance to go see him in concert. Everything....is just a matter of trying to hold it together. I have to be there for my daughter and try make it to that next breath.

MsLisa: When you think about the future for yourself what do you see?

Queen : Well, I plan to retire to Puerto Rico and definitely see Egypt. Paris! Especially because of Josephine Baker and James Baldwin. I want to see where they lived. I want to be hanging out with my man, whoever that may be (laughs ).  When I go, I want to go out with a smile.

MsLisa: You mentioned Egypt. In all the years I've known you, you've always worn an ankh, like your ring. What does that mean to you?

(c) Ankh by Jack Wan
deviantart

Queen : The ankh is a symbol of life and it pre-dates the cross. Prentiss bought me one about 20 years ago before he died. When I designed the headstone for me and Prentiss, I had an ankh added to it and an 8 ball for him. He used to show me how to play pool when I was really, really pregnant with PJ.

MsLisa: Did that headstone go to PJ?

Queen: Yeah, it was supposed to be for us; my mom had a plot at the cemetery for years. Prentiss and I had been together for a long time; going through all these ups and downs. So I planned a headstone with our symbols - the ankh and the 8 ball. I've told Amri that when I go, now I just want to be cremated.

MsLisa: So you don't want the ankh used in your passing?

Queen: Not if I'm reduced to ashes, no. I just want to go to Egypt and experience that. That would be enough for me at this point. I'm not tethered to an object.

MsLisa: In your professional life, what did you end up doing?

Queen : I fell into a 9 - 5  working at a local credit union, first as a receptionist.  My skills evolved into finance and collections.  When the credit union went through a merger, I ended up at the phone company. It was Pacific Bell back then. I didn't want any managerial responsibilities at first, but after about a year I took a management position.

Mslisa: What department did you work in?

Queen : I was a call center manager for the accessibility resources department. This was a call relay center for disabled customers - like TTY machines and transcription. We helped people with their bill and services. I managed a team of 15 - 18 people. I did that for about 9 and a half years.

MsLisa : Are you still in the same position?

Queen : No. I work in sales operations now. I liked both positions, but I enjoy working behind the scenes. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up, so I applied for it.

MsLisa: What is your vision of Egypt?

Queen :  I've got to get to the Temple of Hatsheput. She was maybe 16 or 17 and she became a pharaoh. She was a bad ass! She was killed by an asp. She had a baby, I think by her priest and mentor. There's a small statue made of onyx at a museum in Cairo of a priest holding a child.

MsLisa : What draws you to Egyptian history and philosophy?

Queen : They were a dynamic and creative civilization. They honored their dead and made beautiful art.  The hieroglyphics told their stories and legends. I love all the natural stone and the fact that they were able to create such beautiful art and objects using rudimentary materials. It's amazing to me! They're a mystery and I think Egyptian culture is a wonder of the world.

MsLisa: Have you ever read The Book of the Dead? 

Queen: I haven't. I mean, if I had gone into archaeology I would certainly know more. I dig into things here and there; articles and sometimes fiction based on the Egyptians. It's fascinating to me.

MsLisa : Did you see the King Tut exhibition when we were kids?

Queen : Yes!I think it was at the de Young Museum. It was amazing! There was one statue of a queen called Ethiopia Awakening. I went up to her and whispered 'Hello'.  She's a bronze sculpture made by Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller around 1914. Fuller was a black renaissance artist who went to Paris to study under Auguste Rodin. 

When I was in DC, I went to the Smithsonian because I had to see the African-American section and there she was again. The queen! She was standing alone in a corner in a room. I was in the gallery by myself at the time. That was maybe 8 years after seeing the King Tut exhibit. I love that sculpture, I think, because she represents black women in America.

MsLisa: Thank you so much for talking to me. I love you, girl!

Queen: I love you too!

                                                                   

Ethiopia Awakening
Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller, African-American
(1914) 

words with real bishes : honeychild

welcome to the current install of words with real bishes! are you a beauty of color with a fierce mind and creative spirit? are you doing things big or small? go-getter? jet-setter? artist? avec les enfants ou sans? please email me here and let's chat. unleash yourself! 

today it is with great joy i introduce honeychild coleman aka DJ suga-free, an avant-garde musician and artist. we go way back to the poppin and rockin punk days of 1980s NYC. we were comrades and sisters. at shows we'd play a game called count the black girls.

mslisa: to begin, let's reminisce a bit and tell me how we met?

honeychild: we met in 1987.  we were both working at pearl paint on canal street (that's gone now). we were the two quirky and punky women of color there. i feel like i ran into you at a party, then we connected at work. it might have been at one of those clubs - the tunnel or the world maybe?

mslisa: the world and the tunnel! (laughs). oh yeah, all the beautiful freaks. what have you been up to these days?

honeychild: right now i've been on an artistic hiatus since i last went on tour. i'm working on a new solo record with a new producer. the music is somewhere between dance and post punk. i'm also working on a 7" with criterion thornton (brooklyn beats records). i play guitar and bass. it's kind of a noise punk project. i collaborated with DJ olive on THWIS, too.

mslisa: do you have a name for the band?

honeychild: no, we don't have a name yet. we're just experimenting at the moment. one of my longest collaborators is raz. we did the bedouin soundclash together. i'm the cultural mentor of the underground producers alliance. i'm doing an interactive tour of pre-2000 underground NYC.  i did about 20 sketches of old LES bars and clubs from back in the day. i also did one of the old condemned school on rivington that was hotel amazon. the whole idea is to preserve that time and place.

mslisa: i remember that shooting at hotel amazon one night!

honeychild: right? the lower east side was hardcore back then.

mslisa:  what else are you working on?

honeychild: i have a bunch of videos in the can and i'm learning how to edit. ramsey jones from funk face  and the rza, plays drums in my post punk band bachslider.

mslisa: tell me about the authentic black weirdo?

honeychild: so, here's something that came up a bit in afropunk. there's two kinds of alternative black people in my opinion.  i came to NY knowing i would find others like me and i'd be less lonely. i'm here and i'm black but i'm not here to be black; i just am. the other is showing out their weirdo blackness as a kind of fashion. you and i are the former, i think particularly of our generation. that's what attracted us to new york. we'd watch diana ross in mahogany together, eat fried chicken from the corner, then go to a punk show. we knew who we were.

now it's different with the advent of the blipster. there's more weird young black folks, but i'm not in any particular clique. we're from a different time. who knew there was black heavy metal in kansas? in the 1980s and 90s that was unreal.

mslisa: so true! do you feel that we often had to explain ourselves coming up?

honeychild: oh yeah. my family in kentucky are very conservative so i had to explain a lot of my choices and personal style. we weren't following tradition or conformity. we're at the age of our co-workers parents at this point. they can see the rift, but they can't really put it together. girl, we've been black weirdos a long time!

mslisa: who influenced you in your weirdness as a young girl?

honeychild: well, my aunts were like mod supremes with the beehives, skirts, and boots. i loved that. i grew up reading essence, and always saw lot of brown skinned models. i had an uncle who was an artist. he was full of stories and had a colorful personality. he made a strong impression on me to become an artist.

(as a kid) i probably watched four disco shows on saturday mornings. i would try to copy the clothes. grace jones came on soap factory disco in a cut-off tank top, satin shorts, and a robe. she looked like a super hero singing disco!  and then annabella - forget it. i was always drawn to punk, but she blew my mind. she wasn't trying to be white. she was just being herself; a woman of color and the lead singer of a punk pop band. she's still holding it down, touring with a young band doing old bow wow wow and solo stuff.

mslisa: i think she's in the realm of polystyrene and pauline black. sheroes!

honeychild: totally. pauline had a book that came out two years ago. it's so good.

mslisa:  you mentioned that you'll be touring in september? where do you plan to go?

honeychild: well, i want to play in france for sure, but the dates aren't set. i also want to play in louisville.  i composed a song for the climate change event that i think now is going into a competition, so i think i'll play for that.

mslisa: tell me something about your experiences touring and recording in europe?

honeychild: i was singing with the band here and there were two other americans in the group. one song called 'apart' became a hit and was in rotation in italy. we did a tour for several weeks and we opened for morcheeba and sonic youth. i was like this is the polar opposite of my life in new york! it was amazing. i really learned during that time how to be a performer. all the DJs i work with, we're always behind a mountain of gear. i learned to be a bit more free being out front. i had to be more serious about my voice and not damage my vocal cords

i worked with here for almost three years. then i started to meet other people during that time. seven years later i was touring europe again with apollo heights. after that i went back to my DIY style. it was a flip! i've seen both sides of it now. it was learning curve for me, but it was awesome. now i have a stamp in my passport that says i'm a professional musician. here was the most disciplined band i worked with. we'd pack our own food and rehearsed 6 days a week.

when i went on my first solo tour in italy, we stayed in this punk house in valvasone with no hot water or gas, but let me tell you the rehearsal studio was immaculate and it had internet. the other tour that we did when my record came out, we rented a house with tre allegre ragazzi morti  (three happy dead kids).  they have a huge garage they converted into a studio. we had to learn the whole album before we could start the tour. we did that for 10 days. we did vienna, berlin, and denmark. with the slits tour i left early. they had to show me a lot of stuff.

mslisa: how did you end up playing with the slits?

honeychild: ari was good friends with my friend dunia, who was in a big ska band. remember when i worked at canal jeans and i left to work for dierdre who had that dress shop on 5th street?  dierdre did a fashion show and ari came to that. she was there with her sons, pablo and pedro. i was like, who is this woman in these colorful clothes? i didn't know who she was because the only picture i ever saw of the slits they were covered in mud.

fast forward to 2008 and i'm playing with apollo heights. ari comes backstage and i remembered she's the german woman i met 20 years ago at that fashion show. she remembered me and her guitarist had pulled out of the tour. dunia emailed me and said ' ari called me in a panic and they need a guitarist. do you want to go on tour with the slits? ' 

at first i got immediately depressed because i was already working with apollo heights. i was told ari didn't believe in computers so you have to play everything in real time. i went home and studied all their videos, learned three songs, and went to audition for ari. most of her music was on cassette and i loved that.  it was not easy though. it really kicked my ass. i had to re-learn all these chords and i don't read music - that shit was really hard. i had two weeks to get it. the first gigs we did were in ireland and england. by the time we got to barcelona we were really tight. the whole tour was about four weeks.

mslisa: what was it like working with ari?

honeychild: she was amazing. ari didn't read music either, so her way of explaining how to play a song helped me out a lot. she said she's not intimated by other strong women. to her, the band is like a collective -  a girl gang against the world. everyone had a say. we all swapped around on songs, which was really cool. i instantly felt like i was part of the group. one thing she did the entire tour, she was very clear about protecting the band and its legacy. she spoke of the slits as a unit. she was a champion for the underdog. the real deal.

mslisa: so there was no competition between hollie, ari, and the band?

honeychild: none at all. they weren't jaded or on a diva trip on any level. i loved being around that kind of energy.

mslisa: tell me about your involvement in afropunk: the rock n roll nigger experience?

honeychild: i was involved in the beginning when james (spooner) was asking people around the scene about black punk and rock. to me the hardcore scene in new york peaked around 1990 - 92. i didn't get into the black rock coalition until later. i met james through friends who reached out. he started interviewing me and going to my shows. there was a camaraderie starting to evolve. i was also in the sistagrrls collective at the time. there were early screenings where i played with apollo heights and one in louisville at this deco theater downtown.  my entire family came to see afropunk!  if you could only imagine! my dad said, ' i get it now. you're not trying to be white. this is who you are.'  exactly!

i remember at that screening in louisville there was this sister who had a cute macy gray afro; like wild and cinnamon. she was with another woman who was white who was one of my fans. my brother came with his wife, who is also white. she said to that sister, 'your hair is so pretty can i touch it?' and she just did it.  sister got real upset at that. it got a bit hectic. i had to intervene with my sister-in-law, but also not try to shame her. i had to explain to her why it's not okay to touch a black person's hair even though she's married to a black man. this sort of thing happens in my world.

after afropunk evolved into a festival james got out of it. he was never interested in corporate sponsorship. if you take the title away, it is an amazing black music festival and i totally support that. i would love to play on one of the big stages, but it has become something else. it's crazy to me that the new york times does a fashion spread on it now. this is the first year in maybe 6 years that you have to pay, but you can also volunteer to get in.  you used to pay a sliding scale donation.  that's done now. it's become something like coachella, but for grace jones to me, it's worth it. i'm also looking forward to seeing suicidal tendencies.  afropunk also embraces underground and it's open to everyone. the death grips are playing which is crazy.

mslisa: who are the death grips?

honeychild: they're an underground hip hop group that got signed to a major label. they broke up and got back together. they're on a sold out tour now. last year, i saw d'angelo at afropunk. he was great! he had a few dudes from the roots backing him up for that show. have you heard his new album?

mslisa: yes. i would describe it as...abstract funk?  it's very cool.

honeychild: that's a good description!

mslisa: who do you enjoy listening to these days?

honeychild : i have big soft spot for best coast. they're from california. they sound like a 60s girl group. i enjoy a lot of old stuff.  i listen to jean grae, a local hip hop MC. you would love her! i love electro-funk and freestyle. i bought the new king britt record awhile ago -  it's very ambient. skepta i also really like him. he's a grime MC from london.

mslisa: what's grime?

honeychild: grime is dirty british hip hop. dizzy rascal is another. do you listen to big freedia?

mslisa: i love big freedia!

honeychild: grime is sort of in that genre. i also like lady sovereign; she's kind of grime. i'm basking in the glory of her first two records. i think she's really funny!

mslisa: one thing i always loved about you is that you often made or recycled your own clothes. are you still doing that?

honeychild: i've been getting back into sewing a little. i don't see much these days that inspires me.
a lot of what's going on now just isn't cut right for us. i spend my money on shoes. that's where i'll drop a dollar!

mslisa: what do you think of the series empire?

honeychild: i saw one episode and i thought it was so funny!

mslisa: it is! it was interesting to me how white folks had all these issues with it; that to them it was offensive, but black folks love it.

honeychild: because that's how we talk to each other.

mslisa: exactly! even with all the flash and glam; the language and dialogue are authentic. what do you think about rihanna and beyonce's impact on culture? i call it the black girl empire. 

honeychild: i don't consider rihanna or beyonce in the same category. for a young black woman, rihanna is a fierce, independent woman. i don't get a feminist vibe from beyonce because she flaunts the man half too much. whereas rihanna does this whole ' fuck it! i'm rihanna!' '.  she doesn't give a shit and there's no dude in the background.  from beyonce i get a little bit of a puppet feeling. she grew up in a church family. i grew up like that and i know what that's about. i sometimes feel that a lot of her music and image are contrived; to be purposely provocative and sell downloads to a mainstream audience. i just don't get authentic from beyonce. i'm not a rihanna fan, but she comes across to me as more genuine.

mslisa: girl, thank you for talking with me. you're such an amazing woman.

honeychild: thank you!