assalamu alaikum,
You know, the past two weeks have been hellish. InshaAllah this is the worst I have to experience in learning something.
It hasn't been the best year for learning, but I can point to microbio and anatomy and definitively say I'm not stupid. But the education classes I attempted/took, and now this arabic intensive, are not working out.
I'm frustrated. I cry daily over a single class for so many reasons. I feel that somewhere maybe I'm doing something wrong (what am I doing wrong?!) or that I'm not spending enough time studying (because studying to 3 AM isn't enough TIME) and then I have to restrain myself from coming out of my mouth on my teacher and my classmates and
and I give.
I give.
There are 3 more days of this course and then I'm done stressing about it. The reaction from the teacher and some of the administrators and even some of my classmates has made me think they have this opinion that I just want to be frustrated, that I don't want to learn.
Nothing could be as far from the truth. This is my fourth language. This is a language close to my spirit and my heart. I still love memorizing. (I'm finally really working on ayat al kursi, and it's working- especially when I have people to feed it to me and explain what it means. Easier to pick up that way.)
So while I'm done with (edited to redact institution name) mentally at this point, I'm not giving up on Arabic.
I feel remorse for having my friends see me get so low over this. I'm just sick and tired of being angry and frustrated. Time to be happy now. I'm done.
TwennyTwo
Showing posts with label American Black. Show all posts
Showing posts with label American Black. Show all posts
Monday, August 03, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Beneficent doesn't mean unbiased; Bias doesn't mean bigot
Assalamu Alaikum,
Funny thing about words. Words can do so much. As kids my siblings and I learned that old chant early: 'Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.'
Untrue, untrue, my now-self calls back to my childhood. I've forgotten most of the scrapes, cuts, bruises I've had, but I clearly remember words and conversations from when I was three years old. And now the potential energy of words is coming to the face of the consciousness of my community and our country.
So the other night, I stayed up until about 4 AM discussing just such an instance of hurtful words. And during the conversation, my words were twisted, biased generalizations were drawn based on another's perception of who I am, and of course I heard my entire race- and then all of the males in my race- maligned and denigrated. I was told that my viewpoint was hurtful, that I insinuated that another person was racist, that I assumed that anyone against me must be racist- but that another's viewpoint was righteous and of course based in reality.
You could say I had a normal day that lasted into the wee hours, really.
I want to get back to that conversation in a moment. By now, since President Obama so graciously used his valuable time and remarked upon it not once but twice, nearly everyone has heard about the incident of Professor Henry Louis Gates' arrest by Seargeant James Crowley. It has been the topic of direct and indirect discussion around the country for nearly a week, now.
I normally don't watch TV at all, but was perusing various reactions and saw this (yes, I know, CNN. Better for domestic racial commentary than the BBC and other international news.)
Tim Wise makes an excellent point:
I think for the most part Mr. Wise hit the target. What I did not hear him say, is that Black folk have biases, too. Everyone has biases.
I have to say that I knew of Professor Gates before the incident, and in my mind he was (and is, really), one of those 'Famous Black Americans'. Ar-um... how do I explain that? When I was a child, my parents and community really worked to instill a sense of foundation that was based on examples of education, determination, and pride from among Black America. I grew up in the '80s and then the '90s, so I really caught the tail end of being raised 'Black and Proud' in the arms of the survivors and the heroes and the children of the 1950's-60's civil rights movement. I have grown into an adult who knows how very very crucial that foundation was.
So I knew about Dr. Gates who was a great social scientist and researcher, and I heard about the news that he taught at Harvard (though to tell the truth, Dr. Cornell West is more famous in my perception), and I was delighted when I returned to DC from PR (so this would've been 2005 or 2006) to catch the first installment of African American Lives on PBS. I knew that man, and I loved that series. (The second series was just as good. Yes, he had Soledad O'Brien beat before she got started, in my opinion.) So yes, I was astounded to hear about the arrest... and at the same time, yes, part of me was about the least surprised person on earth. You see, I knew that Professor Gates is smart and acccomplished; but I knew he is Black as well.
Reference Tim Wise's quote above.
I know all about inherent biases. Believe me, knowing about inherent bias was a theme wherever grownups were from the time I was still young enough to keep my hand grasped in my mother's skirts (she didn't wear pants until I was twelve), still young enough to peek at my father's spades hand from his lap, not old enough to ask questions and be told to stay out of grown folks' bidness. Inherent bias didn't take that term, though. The theme instead was, 'We have to do twice as much to get half the recognition', or 'Got to walk on water; and still these folks will wonder why you don't make yourself a boat'.
As we grew older my mother would go on and on about the importance of being well-groomed and neat. "You're already taller and more noticeable"- meaning because of our chocolate skin- "so you need to look nicer and be more courteous than most". Heh, but she refused to (and probably couldn't afford to, now that I think on it) buy the Donna Karan, the Coach, the Guess, the Jordans to make us fit in- a clean appearance was what counted... sigh. That was my childhood. Then I became an adult, sat with the grown folks, and listened to my aunts and my grandfather trade stories of how "these white folks" would look for any way to get 'us' out of our own success stories. How paper trails are essential, how evidence is crucial; how the least offence can and will be magnified against you. 'Don't forget, you're smart, you're beautiful, and you're still Black', ran the advice of my elders. And then I had a couple of jobs where I found out the truths behind the family lore for myself.
That's not a story for today. Point is, the guests in the video are educating the uninitiated in something that is not a small fact of minority life (and certainly my life) in this country and heck, in this world. Most people act upon their biases; and if you're on the negative/minority/less empowered side of a bias you will see, eventually, those actions based on bias affect you negatively. You can work hard and avoid most of the craziness, but you will see those biases come out against you. Like it or not. The End.
Because I know all about inherent biases, and because of the frequency of their being acted out in the actions and perceptions of those around me, I become less outraged when I recognize them, and less invested in actively correcting the subtle biases. As my Aunt C would say: "I don't have the time." I see this kind of mess all the time, and it's tiring enough just to ignore the subtle bovine scatulation in my way, and stay about my own business. You train the children in your village accordingly, if you have the foundation I do, suck it up and do better than your best, and leave the rest to God.
Until you need to have the conversations that last all night, as I did the other night.
I overheard a friend of mine, a prospective taxi driver, say into his cell phone, "yeah, and I might have to leave Black people", in the context of his conversation, as if to say he wouldn't be picking up Black people. He didn't qualify the statement, didn't say scary looking Black people or thugs, or black and white crazies. He said what he said.
To be frank, I was stung. I was at the house of a very dear friend, and to hear him say that... took me out of my context, where I was comfortable, and into one where I was in a room with someone with those negative inherent biases who had no problem with putting them into play even though I was in his line of sight. Also, the man in question is a brown-skinned minority himself. So yeah, to have him say that pretty much in my face, if not to me, hurt. It was a very 'what the heck?' moment.
We were lucky to have just gone through Maidan's workshop on 'The Art of Prophetic Communication', so those things were fresh in our minds... yes, we used the concepts, especially those of considering the audience and how THEY hear our words.
What followed was an excellent example of what the entire country is doing and thinking and how we're reacting. Because what I said, when he was off the phone, was that for him to not pick up a Black person for the fact that they're Black, was racist. I immediately clarified- not that I thought HE was racist as a person, but that he needed to face the fact that what he said was racist, and that to take that particular action with no other basis, was wrong.
Ayyayyay. He was very hurt that I had called him racist. And he could never be a racist because people have been racist toward him. And he has Black friends! And then I had to say, no, you obviously didn't hear me say that I DON'T think you're racist. And then it became a discussion of words and how he wasn't into vocabulary. So he didn't see anything wrong with saying what he said the way he said it. And I had to sit down and explain it something like this:
I was exhausted at the end of that conversation, but it was so very necessary.
If life were fair, after that very exhausting conversation, I'd've had a Racism-free Day card or something, but alas. I think it was on Racism 101 on the Resist Racism blog that someone said that people of color literally experience racism daily, and that we let 95% of what happens, we let it go.
So then the next day, I had to explain to one of my fellow students in the Fawa.kih program (we had just completed mid-term evaluations of the program) why it is that I was angry, and why it was that it seemed inherently unfair that I should have to go see the teacher after class, and take advantage of the study time, instead of the other way around. Why it was that a LOT of the time, I just 'shut down' and shut up instead of voicing my opinion. It's because I already know that I am bigger than most; that I'm perceived as louder than most (even when I'm not; I do have a trained voice, won't lie), that I'm darker than most. In the USA, in any given situation, someone is more likely than not to already have some perception of me as negative; as a threat, or a danger, or aggressive, or unintelligent. That last hurts me most because I'm here to learn. And I am not a stupid woman. To be dismissed based on the craziness someone has learned to carry in their heads is insane, and if you see me as vocal, understand that I automatically don't say half of what I could and would and ought.
That's my life.
This is a really long post. It's been a while coming, and I may have something to say later. Comments are open and I welcome your thoughts.
peace
TwennyTwo
Funny thing about words. Words can do so much. As kids my siblings and I learned that old chant early: 'Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.'
Untrue, untrue, my now-self calls back to my childhood. I've forgotten most of the scrapes, cuts, bruises I've had, but I clearly remember words and conversations from when I was three years old. And now the potential energy of words is coming to the face of the consciousness of my community and our country.
So the other night, I stayed up until about 4 AM discussing just such an instance of hurtful words. And during the conversation, my words were twisted, biased generalizations were drawn based on another's perception of who I am, and of course I heard my entire race- and then all of the males in my race- maligned and denigrated. I was told that my viewpoint was hurtful, that I insinuated that another person was racist, that I assumed that anyone against me must be racist- but that another's viewpoint was righteous and of course based in reality.
You could say I had a normal day that lasted into the wee hours, really.
I want to get back to that conversation in a moment. By now, since President Obama so graciously used his valuable time and remarked upon it not once but twice, nearly everyone has heard about the incident of Professor Henry Louis Gates' arrest by Seargeant James Crowley. It has been the topic of direct and indirect discussion around the country for nearly a week, now.
I normally don't watch TV at all, but was perusing various reactions and saw this (yes, I know, CNN. Better for domestic racial commentary than the BBC and other international news.)
Tim Wise makes an excellent point:
Is it possible that Sgt. Crowley, though he is not by all appearances a bigot in any sense of the word, may have perceived Prof Gates’ behavior as more belligerent than he would have, had this been a white person?...
...White folks whether they’re cops or just average citizens, will oftentimes view the behavior of black people as more negative, more dangerous, more aggressive even more criminal than they would the very same behavior engaged in by a white person. And they don’t do that because they’re bigots or racist or bad people, and they do that because of what are called implicit biases, they don’t make us bad, but they happen. ~ Tim Wise, author of ‘White Like Me’
I think for the most part Mr. Wise hit the target. What I did not hear him say, is that Black folk have biases, too. Everyone has biases.
I have to say that I knew of Professor Gates before the incident, and in my mind he was (and is, really), one of those 'Famous Black Americans'. Ar-um... how do I explain that? When I was a child, my parents and community really worked to instill a sense of foundation that was based on examples of education, determination, and pride from among Black America. I grew up in the '80s and then the '90s, so I really caught the tail end of being raised 'Black and Proud' in the arms of the survivors and the heroes and the children of the 1950's-60's civil rights movement. I have grown into an adult who knows how very very crucial that foundation was.
So I knew about Dr. Gates who was a great social scientist and researcher, and I heard about the news that he taught at Harvard (though to tell the truth, Dr. Cornell West is more famous in my perception), and I was delighted when I returned to DC from PR (so this would've been 2005 or 2006) to catch the first installment of African American Lives on PBS. I knew that man, and I loved that series. (The second series was just as good. Yes, he had Soledad O'Brien beat before she got started, in my opinion.) So yes, I was astounded to hear about the arrest... and at the same time, yes, part of me was about the least surprised person on earth. You see, I knew that Professor Gates is smart and acccomplished; but I knew he is Black as well.
Reference Tim Wise's quote above.
I know all about inherent biases. Believe me, knowing about inherent bias was a theme wherever grownups were from the time I was still young enough to keep my hand grasped in my mother's skirts (she didn't wear pants until I was twelve), still young enough to peek at my father's spades hand from his lap, not old enough to ask questions and be told to stay out of grown folks' bidness. Inherent bias didn't take that term, though. The theme instead was, 'We have to do twice as much to get half the recognition', or 'Got to walk on water; and still these folks will wonder why you don't make yourself a boat'.
As we grew older my mother would go on and on about the importance of being well-groomed and neat. "You're already taller and more noticeable"- meaning because of our chocolate skin- "so you need to look nicer and be more courteous than most". Heh, but she refused to (and probably couldn't afford to, now that I think on it) buy the Donna Karan, the Coach, the Guess, the Jordans to make us fit in- a clean appearance was what counted... sigh. That was my childhood. Then I became an adult, sat with the grown folks, and listened to my aunts and my grandfather trade stories of how "these white folks" would look for any way to get 'us' out of our own success stories. How paper trails are essential, how evidence is crucial; how the least offence can and will be magnified against you. 'Don't forget, you're smart, you're beautiful, and you're still Black', ran the advice of my elders. And then I had a couple of jobs where I found out the truths behind the family lore for myself.
That's not a story for today. Point is, the guests in the video are educating the uninitiated in something that is not a small fact of minority life (and certainly my life) in this country and heck, in this world. Most people act upon their biases; and if you're on the negative/minority/less empowered side of a bias you will see, eventually, those actions based on bias affect you negatively. You can work hard and avoid most of the craziness, but you will see those biases come out against you. Like it or not. The End.
Because I know all about inherent biases, and because of the frequency of their being acted out in the actions and perceptions of those around me, I become less outraged when I recognize them, and less invested in actively correcting the subtle biases. As my Aunt C would say: "I don't have the time." I see this kind of mess all the time, and it's tiring enough just to ignore the subtle bovine scatulation in my way, and stay about my own business. You train the children in your village accordingly, if you have the foundation I do, suck it up and do better than your best, and leave the rest to God.
Until you need to have the conversations that last all night, as I did the other night.
I overheard a friend of mine, a prospective taxi driver, say into his cell phone, "yeah, and I might have to leave Black people", in the context of his conversation, as if to say he wouldn't be picking up Black people. He didn't qualify the statement, didn't say scary looking Black people or thugs, or black and white crazies. He said what he said.
To be frank, I was stung. I was at the house of a very dear friend, and to hear him say that... took me out of my context, where I was comfortable, and into one where I was in a room with someone with those negative inherent biases who had no problem with putting them into play even though I was in his line of sight. Also, the man in question is a brown-skinned minority himself. So yeah, to have him say that pretty much in my face, if not to me, hurt. It was a very 'what the heck?' moment.
We were lucky to have just gone through Maidan's workshop on 'The Art of Prophetic Communication', so those things were fresh in our minds... yes, we used the concepts, especially those of considering the audience and how THEY hear our words.
What followed was an excellent example of what the entire country is doing and thinking and how we're reacting. Because what I said, when he was off the phone, was that for him to not pick up a Black person for the fact that they're Black, was racist. I immediately clarified- not that I thought HE was racist as a person, but that he needed to face the fact that what he said was racist, and that to take that particular action with no other basis, was wrong.
Ayyayyay. He was very hurt that I had called him racist. And he could never be a racist because people have been racist toward him. And he has Black friends! And then I had to say, no, you obviously didn't hear me say that I DON'T think you're racist. And then it became a discussion of words and how he wasn't into vocabulary. So he didn't see anything wrong with saying what he said the way he said it. And I had to sit down and explain it something like this:
Look, I told (my amiga) earlier, that I don't think I could be in the position of a cab driver for exactly that reason; that I KNOW I would have to judge people on their appearance and possibly not give them a ride again based on their appearance. I don't know that I could do that.
But I do know that I have been Black for 28 years now. And I can tell you how it feels to hear you won't pick up a black person. If it weren't for the fact that I wear hijab, I'd STILL never get a cab- I'm bigger and darker than most cab drivers like. And as the lone black person in the room, I have to say that I know that I'm more likely to be the victim of a crime committed by another black person than anyone else here. So yes, I even understand using race as one factor when you look at someone and ask yourself if they're a threat to your safety. I would never ever say that you should do anything against your own safety. You must look out for your safety first and always, and I recognize that.
I also recognize that we must all do that, and we use stereotypes to do so. That's not my problem here.
My issue comes when you don't realize that what you are doing involves racism, and that it's a racist act. One lie does not a liar make; but it's still problematic when a person cannot look at an untruth they've told and know that they told a lie.
AND, when you say for example, that "It's black people's fault that I have to think like that, they've put themselves in that position", first, you're generalizing, and second, you've got your facts incorrect. For you to say that your perception of black people and your acting upon it is the fault of millions of people who don't even know you exist, is racist. Having black friends, black babies, what have you doesn't make what you said any less racist. And when you say it, you're sitting here looking at my skin!
You said, 'It's Black people's fault,' you said, 'Black people put themselves in that position.' But you tell me that it's not the case for me. That's offensive, because my skin is still Black, and I am a part of that group about whom you speak. My skin color didn't change in the last five seconds. If you said 'Black dudes', then okay, great, you exclude me from your racism, but you included my brother and my father. And if you would exclude us, then I'd ask you to stop generalizing based on your stereotypes. And don't delude yourself that what you're doing isn't racist. You have to care about your safety, you have to look out for number one first. But don't tell yourself that just because you're being safe, or even if it is necessary, that you're not doing something that is racist. It is.
You don't have to listen to me, and you don't have to care what I think of you. Because beyond this moment, I don't care- you may very well never see me again, ever. But, I would ask you to take this conversation as a tool and USE your words better. You never know when what we're saying can help you. Because, yeah, I don't think you're a racist person. I also don't want you to believe that because you mean well or don't mean ill, that how you say things doesn't count. It does. And it will. And anything good I have said isn't from me. And if you have taken anything bad from what I have said, it is from me, please accept my sincerest apologies.
I was exhausted at the end of that conversation, but it was so very necessary.
If life were fair, after that very exhausting conversation, I'd've had a Racism-free Day card or something, but alas. I think it was on Racism 101 on the Resist Racism blog that someone said that people of color literally experience racism daily, and that we let 95% of what happens, we let it go.
So then the next day, I had to explain to one of my fellow students in the Fawa.kih program (we had just completed mid-term evaluations of the program) why it is that I was angry, and why it was that it seemed inherently unfair that I should have to go see the teacher after class, and take advantage of the study time, instead of the other way around. Why it was that a LOT of the time, I just 'shut down' and shut up instead of voicing my opinion. It's because I already know that I am bigger than most; that I'm perceived as louder than most (even when I'm not; I do have a trained voice, won't lie), that I'm darker than most. In the USA, in any given situation, someone is more likely than not to already have some perception of me as negative; as a threat, or a danger, or aggressive, or unintelligent. That last hurts me most because I'm here to learn. And I am not a stupid woman. To be dismissed based on the craziness someone has learned to carry in their heads is insane, and if you see me as vocal, understand that I automatically don't say half of what I could and would and ought.
That's my life.
This is a really long post. It's been a while coming, and I may have something to say later. Comments are open and I welcome your thoughts.
peace
TwennyTwo
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
What we already know, but can't say.
Yes. This is exactly it.
My starting line is much different. My struggle is just a bit deeper. My path has been uphill.
No, it's not too much. But it's there.
My starting line is much different. My struggle is just a bit deeper. My path has been uphill.
No, it's not too much. But it's there.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Music
Assalamu Alaikum,
So I've been thinking about the music thing. First, I went to visit UmmLayth (yes, she of TheMuslimah.com, may Allah bless her); as it turns out, she doesn't live that far from Conservopolis. Since I'd left my laptop at her house I went to retrieve it and stayed the night. It was so good to see her!
We got to talking about many different things, and music was one of them. Alhamdulillah I'm not going to talk about her house here, except to say that she doesn't have a television, and the stereos I saw were not on once. Ya'll say mashaAllah.
She asked me if I listened to music... and then added that she doesn't judge on it. I guess she understood the look on my face.
See, whenever the subject of music and Islam, and living with or without it comes up, I feel pushed. I'd already converted when one of the sisters in MSA, I think she was a vp at the time, made some remark about how a certain person was so extreme, that they put all the pictures in the house face-down, and 'didn't even listen to music!'. And I immediately asked her, "Wait- music isn't allowed in Islam?" She refused to answer, and quickly changed the subject.
So even then I understood this to be something that involved a definite difference of opinions.
Fast forward a couple years, past the MSA East Zone convention where I started wearing hijab, to living in Puerto Rico. By then I was in full immersion mode, and riding in the car with my friend Abeer.
I love Abeer for many reasons, not least of which is that during one lonely Ramadhan after learning that I was fasting by myself, she piled her kids into her rusty blue'89 Chevy wagon, came to my house and bullied me into the car, and did not leave me alone henceforth. I truly believe she not only saved my sanity, but she maintained my link to Islam. This was shortly before I got my first laptop and started this blog.
Anyway, so we were winding through the streets of Guayama, and Abeer asked me:" Pues, cuando mueres, quieres musica, o quieres Qur'an?"- did I want music, or Qur'an playing at my funeral? I forget what brought that on, I think maybe someone famous had died in PR recently.
"Qur'an," I replied firmly.
My brainwashing was nearly complete.
Something brought me back from the brink, though.
It's because of the extremity of actively avoiding music. Not only is it everywhere, but I operated for the longest in a world that moved to its direction. And, I can't see evil just in the existence of melody and harmony. I'm sorry- the Qur'an has too much of those beautiful sisters for me to dislike them for their own sake.
I fully understand the reasons for the dislike of music, really. It takes away from study of Qur'an, it occupies the mind with other things- and certain of these things can be undesirable. There's a hadith involved.
But I also know that I've been brought closer to understanding how to love Rasulullah (saws) and his example through music. Native Deen, Sami Yusuf, and Outlandish have all inspired me to learn more about certain hadiths and ayahs. I still feel the transcendance when music and a deft lyric can say more than all the speeches anyone could write.
And beyond that? As they said in the video, this is something that my mother does, that my grandmother did, that her father did. I know the songs used to tune the hoes in the fields. I know the weariness on my mother's shoulders by the tune she chooses while she scrubs a dish. I can tell you what grade I was in when given hip-hop tunes came out, and who was my friend, and who was my teacher, and what happened to make I was taught as a child that music was something we used to praise God. What do you mean, God doesn't like it? This hit me about as much as not wearing shoes inside peoples' houses- my father insisted that we wear shoes inside the house if we were awake. It's that kind of training. I'm a classically trained musician, and my siblings have won gold medals in performance. How do I turn away? I just don't see first that it's wrong, and second, how to fight it.
I do know that the way forward is through strengthening faith. The more I memorize Qur'an, the more I want to learn more, the less time I do spend with music. I do miss composing though, and spoken word. So that's the part of hip-hop I feel connected to. As it is, I rarely listen to music unless I'm working out.
Gotta go- just one more point. As part of the Practimate training, we're invited to express our opinions on marriage and potential partners in a variety of ways. One brother expressed his disdain for a sister who- among other things- listened to music. I really wonder how many of these brothers listen to absolutely no music (I mean, no anasheed? Sami Yusuf but without strings? What?) and how to portray the fact that I'm okay with filtered music right now, though inshaAllah I'm definitely open to decreasing my usage. How intolerant are we as an ummah to something where there is a known difference of opinion?
Okay, I'm off my soapbox. Salaamu Alaikum.
peace
TwennyTwo
So I've been thinking about the music thing. First, I went to visit UmmLayth (yes, she of TheMuslimah.com, may Allah bless her); as it turns out, she doesn't live that far from Conservopolis. Since I'd left my laptop at her house I went to retrieve it and stayed the night. It was so good to see her!
We got to talking about many different things, and music was one of them. Alhamdulillah I'm not going to talk about her house here, except to say that she doesn't have a television, and the stereos I saw were not on once. Ya'll say mashaAllah.
She asked me if I listened to music... and then added that she doesn't judge on it. I guess she understood the look on my face.
See, whenever the subject of music and Islam, and living with or without it comes up, I feel pushed. I'd already converted when one of the sisters in MSA, I think she was a vp at the time, made some remark about how a certain person was so extreme, that they put all the pictures in the house face-down, and 'didn't even listen to music!'. And I immediately asked her, "Wait- music isn't allowed in Islam?" She refused to answer, and quickly changed the subject.
So even then I understood this to be something that involved a definite difference of opinions.
Fast forward a couple years, past the MSA East Zone convention where I started wearing hijab, to living in Puerto Rico. By then I was in full immersion mode, and riding in the car with my friend Abeer.
I love Abeer for many reasons, not least of which is that during one lonely Ramadhan after learning that I was fasting by myself, she piled her kids into her rusty blue'89 Chevy wagon, came to my house and bullied me into the car, and did not leave me alone henceforth. I truly believe she not only saved my sanity, but she maintained my link to Islam. This was shortly before I got my first laptop and started this blog.
Anyway, so we were winding through the streets of Guayama, and Abeer asked me:" Pues, cuando mueres, quieres musica, o quieres Qur'an?"- did I want music, or Qur'an playing at my funeral? I forget what brought that on, I think maybe someone famous had died in PR recently.
"Qur'an," I replied firmly.
My brainwashing was nearly complete.
Something brought me back from the brink, though.
It's because of the extremity of actively avoiding music. Not only is it everywhere, but I operated for the longest in a world that moved to its direction. And, I can't see evil just in the existence of melody and harmony. I'm sorry- the Qur'an has too much of those beautiful sisters for me to dislike them for their own sake.
I fully understand the reasons for the dislike of music, really. It takes away from study of Qur'an, it occupies the mind with other things- and certain of these things can be undesirable. There's a hadith involved.
But I also know that I've been brought closer to understanding how to love Rasulullah (saws) and his example through music. Native Deen, Sami Yusuf, and Outlandish have all inspired me to learn more about certain hadiths and ayahs. I still feel the transcendance when music and a deft lyric can say more than all the speeches anyone could write.
And beyond that? As they said in the video, this is something that my mother does, that my grandmother did, that her father did. I know the songs used to tune the hoes in the fields. I know the weariness on my mother's shoulders by the tune she chooses while she scrubs a dish. I can tell you what grade I was in when given hip-hop tunes came out, and who was my friend, and who was my teacher, and what happened to make I was taught as a child that music was something we used to praise God. What do you mean, God doesn't like it? This hit me about as much as not wearing shoes inside peoples' houses- my father insisted that we wear shoes inside the house if we were awake. It's that kind of training. I'm a classically trained musician, and my siblings have won gold medals in performance. How do I turn away? I just don't see first that it's wrong, and second, how to fight it.
I do know that the way forward is through strengthening faith. The more I memorize Qur'an, the more I want to learn more, the less time I do spend with music. I do miss composing though, and spoken word. So that's the part of hip-hop I feel connected to. As it is, I rarely listen to music unless I'm working out.
Gotta go- just one more point. As part of the Practimate training, we're invited to express our opinions on marriage and potential partners in a variety of ways. One brother expressed his disdain for a sister who- among other things- listened to music. I really wonder how many of these brothers listen to absolutely no music (I mean, no anasheed? Sami Yusuf but without strings? What?) and how to portray the fact that I'm okay with filtered music right now, though inshaAllah I'm definitely open to decreasing my usage. How intolerant are we as an ummah to something where there is a known difference of opinion?
Okay, I'm off my soapbox. Salaamu Alaikum.
peace
TwennyTwo
Friday, April 08, 2005
What a difference a day makes
Mmmmmmmmmm. Today is not the same as day'fo'yesterdy.
After retrieving my acceptance letter from the office where Sapientis has been holding it hostage I don't even know how long, I find that I need to send $500, non-refundable, to CU in order for them to hold my place.
Bout an hour later I found out I actually have to pay taxes (as opposed to getting a refund) for the first time in my life ever ever ever. Boy what a time for that particularly unopportune surprise.
The upshot is that God will allow me to find about $800 before next Friday, or I won't be going to my dream skool.
*SIGH* I'm struggling but ima keep the faith! If it is for me, I will have it! And if it isn't, I'll receive peace about the whole thing. I need to stay in touch with reality on this. I can feel my stress level up. I wish I had some access to summa' dat sexual healing my man Marvin sings about, but then... nah, don't need any other complications in my life. Right? Right? I keep telling myself this. Freedom is good. A good man is hard to find. And a hard man.... right, ahem, I was saying...
On another note-
I have a coupla students who haven't really shown their faces in my classroom since January. One of them yesterday had the nerve, I mean, the bald-faced temerity, to drag his mama up to the school. Why? you ask. Why, so that his mother could beg me to give the child a 'special' project so he could pass into high school.
This is a student who, aside from his non-attendance, has 'tried' to cuss me several times, has threatened me, and, mind you, is taking 8th grade English when he's enrolled in another grade. This child has earned no favors from me, but what really kicked it was that he literally hadn't shown his nose hairs in my classroom in three months! And was sitting there with some heavy attitude.
I told his mama to her face that it wouldn't be ethical for me to help her wayward, hardheaded child again, since the terms of the agreement I actually made with him last semester included his daily attendance this semester. She tried for the sympathy, telling me that she didn't want to have to pay for more than one class this summer, but as far as I'm concerned, if she were that worried she'd have made sure Junior's behind was warming his seat and not sassing me.
I'm still indignant over that mess. I mean, where do people get off? I love teaching if only because it really helps me understand the roots of the social problems around here.
I was gonna watch be cool, but I feel so stressed I think I might go curl up with a good book instead. I haven't had a Fridy off in a while, so I should take advantage. Especially since PB took advantage of me again and gave me Sat and Sun worknights. I shouldn't complain, and I wouldn't if I weren't so impossibly tired.
I've complained a lot lately so I'll be out with a shout to my girls Tamika, Riri, and SharonSmiley and to Toto for enduring more than this over their cell phones. MUCH LOVE LADIES!
tacatin tacato, este cuento se acabo!
After retrieving my acceptance letter from the office where Sapientis has been holding it hostage I don't even know how long, I find that I need to send $500, non-refundable, to CU in order for them to hold my place.
Bout an hour later I found out I actually have to pay taxes (as opposed to getting a refund) for the first time in my life ever ever ever. Boy what a time for that particularly unopportune surprise.
The upshot is that God will allow me to find about $800 before next Friday, or I won't be going to my dream skool.
*SIGH* I'm struggling but ima keep the faith! If it is for me, I will have it! And if it isn't, I'll receive peace about the whole thing. I need to stay in touch with reality on this. I can feel my stress level up. I wish I had some access to summa' dat sexual healing my man Marvin sings about, but then... nah, don't need any other complications in my life. Right? Right? I keep telling myself this. Freedom is good. A good man is hard to find. And a hard man.... right, ahem, I was saying...
On another note-
I have a coupla students who haven't really shown their faces in my classroom since January. One of them yesterday had the nerve, I mean, the bald-faced temerity, to drag his mama up to the school. Why? you ask. Why, so that his mother could beg me to give the child a 'special' project so he could pass into high school.
This is a student who, aside from his non-attendance, has 'tried' to cuss me several times, has threatened me, and, mind you, is taking 8th grade English when he's enrolled in another grade. This child has earned no favors from me, but what really kicked it was that he literally hadn't shown his nose hairs in my classroom in three months! And was sitting there with some heavy attitude.
I told his mama to her face that it wouldn't be ethical for me to help her wayward, hardheaded child again, since the terms of the agreement I actually made with him last semester included his daily attendance this semester. She tried for the sympathy, telling me that she didn't want to have to pay for more than one class this summer, but as far as I'm concerned, if she were that worried she'd have made sure Junior's behind was warming his seat and not sassing me.
I'm still indignant over that mess. I mean, where do people get off? I love teaching if only because it really helps me understand the roots of the social problems around here.
I was gonna watch be cool, but I feel so stressed I think I might go curl up with a good book instead. I haven't had a Fridy off in a while, so I should take advantage. Especially since PB took advantage of me again and gave me Sat and Sun worknights. I shouldn't complain, and I wouldn't if I weren't so impossibly tired.
I've complained a lot lately so I'll be out with a shout to my girls Tamika, Riri, and SharonSmiley and to Toto for enduring more than this over their cell phones. MUCH LOVE LADIES!
tacatin tacato, este cuento se acabo!
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Tis Official...
... i was accepted to the Mailman School at Columbia!
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
I'm excited! Euphoric. Columbia has been my dream school for a while now, and I wasn't sure they'd look at my application again after I didn't go two years ago... first step in the master plan is complete. Now I just have to get this degree, complete my MSN/CNM, and get some bizness-administration experience so I can start up my clinic. THAT is really the point in all this, and the reason why I'm looking at being in school what feels like fuh-EVAH...
Can't WAIT to live in NYC even though ima miss portareeco like none other. Oooh the bittersweetness of it all.
Still I can't front like all is decided. I haven't decided whether to defer a year ( financial aid in these times being what it is) or just take the plunge. My fam is decidedly NOT as enthusiastic as I am, but then, everybody was wanting me to come back south of the Mason-Dixon. All in good time. I still don't know what Emory has decided.
Which makes it even harder to finesse the ending of this year as I know I'm supposed to. I have to face the music here. La directora no esta feliz conmigo, por todas las depresiones que he pasado en los ultimos dos meses. It all boils down to the fact that i LOATHE the whole class-prep/planification processes here, and she's pushing them big time. And the woman is quite formidable. I have to say I'm a lil intimidated by the thought of going up to her and prostrating myself in order for her to understand what's been going on.
Still, she is only a woman and God is God. That doesn't really matter much anymore.
Wow, I'm up to five friends on friendster y to'o (love to David y Kabo for the expression)...
I've decided Porfirio has to go. I didn't go out with him due to the fact that work obligations are punishing enough right now... but I've been avoiding it anyways cuz somewhere deep in my head i know he ain't right. And unlike Toto, I cannot change into one of those user chickees who let dudes wine and dine when I KNOW he ain't goin' no further. Y no hay mas oportunidades. La gente se portan como que una oportunidad es algo que yo les debo. Al contrario, acceso a mi persona esta RESTRINGIDA! And I like it like that! Y que!
p.e.a.c.e.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
I'm excited! Euphoric. Columbia has been my dream school for a while now, and I wasn't sure they'd look at my application again after I didn't go two years ago... first step in the master plan is complete. Now I just have to get this degree, complete my MSN/CNM, and get some bizness-administration experience so I can start up my clinic. THAT is really the point in all this, and the reason why I'm looking at being in school what feels like fuh-EVAH...
Can't WAIT to live in NYC even though ima miss portareeco like none other. Oooh the bittersweetness of it all.
Still I can't front like all is decided. I haven't decided whether to defer a year ( financial aid in these times being what it is) or just take the plunge. My fam is decidedly NOT as enthusiastic as I am, but then, everybody was wanting me to come back south of the Mason-Dixon. All in good time. I still don't know what Emory has decided.
Which makes it even harder to finesse the ending of this year as I know I'm supposed to. I have to face the music here. La directora no esta feliz conmigo, por todas las depresiones que he pasado en los ultimos dos meses. It all boils down to the fact that i LOATHE the whole class-prep/planification processes here, and she's pushing them big time. And the woman is quite formidable. I have to say I'm a lil intimidated by the thought of going up to her and prostrating myself in order for her to understand what's been going on.
Still, she is only a woman and God is God. That doesn't really matter much anymore.
Wow, I'm up to five friends on friendster y to'o (love to David y Kabo for the expression)...
I've decided Porfirio has to go. I didn't go out with him due to the fact that work obligations are punishing enough right now... but I've been avoiding it anyways cuz somewhere deep in my head i know he ain't right. And unlike Toto, I cannot change into one of those user chickees who let dudes wine and dine when I KNOW he ain't goin' no further. Y no hay mas oportunidades. La gente se portan como que una oportunidad es algo que yo les debo. Al contrario, acceso a mi persona esta RESTRINGIDA! And I like it like that! Y que!
p.e.a.c.e.
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