1981, Me at 5 with Uncle Covak–talking”Reaganomics”.

Dear Gill Scott,

I’m very sad to hear you passed yesterday.  You were one of my very favorite artists.

I discovered your music as a teenager, going through my father’s records. In many ways you were the link between my father and I; and the bridge between two African American generations. You remind me of my dad and uncles–a mix of Chicago’s Englewood, Ivy league books, the grit of the streets, consciousness, and unrighteousness–all smoothly tucked into a black American male body.

You made being black and revolutionary, cool and deep, so I took your music along my journey to adulthood– from LP’s to tapes to CD’s to MP3s–your voice has never been far.

I learned of your writing in the dusty stacks of the Huston-Tillotson College library in Austin, TX.  At 19, I remember reading “Nigger Factory” in the bathtub of my shared one-bedroom apartment with CeCe and that crazy Andre. You made me want to write poetry and tell stories about the black experience.

In graduate school, you helped me figure out how  to be black around a lot of white critics.  During those years, I also learned that your music went well with cognac.

When I bought my first home in the hood, your music fit well.  I’d play “Home Is Where the Hatred Is” for the drug addict couple I’d hired as cheap labor to help fix and clean my house.  From you, I learned that the best artists actually live the stories they tell.

You were a cultural icon, and the voice of a world-changing cultural movement.

And, you successfully, authentically, and beautifully, channeled the emotion and thoughts of an important group of the world’s people.

Thank you for your art and life.

-Ayana Atsu Haaruun

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cOUMvjw9RlA&feature=related

I’ve spent much of my talking life trying to merge  “smart” and “ghetto”, and “super black” and “kind of white”.  In my work and performance as Professor, I am often reminded of the difficulties of this kind of dual identity.

I found Nate Dogg’s album, “First We Pray” at a discount music store.  I was working on my thesis project, and immediately knew the album’s title was significant.  The lyrics articulated what I couldn’t.

Thank you Nate Dogg.

Here’s an excerpt from my paper:

First We Pray

I titled my thesis work “First We Pray” to allude to the historic role of spirituality in African American culture, and most obviously because the work begins with a prayer. “First We Pray”, is also the title of a rap song written by Nate Dogg.  In the chorus he sings,  “First we pray, then we ride.”  Although, the song’s lyrics are about preparation for gang violence, I believe that the words clearly articulate a far-reaching phenomenon and profoundly illustrate a kind of radical spirituality.  The same theological notion in Nate Dog’s song has been responsible for fueling many liberation movements throughout the world.  In America, the separation between whites and blacks in the spiritual realm dramatically effected slavery’s end.  Aside from the well-documented legacies of Dr. Martin Luther King and El Hajj Malik Shabazz, the slave insurrectionists were also spiritual leaders. Gabriel Prosser, Demark Vesey, and Nat Turner were slave preachers who were able to read the bible themselves.  After discovering the liberation motif of the bible, they embraced the idea that the kingdom of heaven was not symbolized by peace but by the sword.  The use of cotton and makeshift blood in the decoration of my thesis exhibition pays homage to Nat Turner.  In the story of his rebellion, he stated that after a remarkable vision in 1825, he began to receive strange signs from heaven.   One day while in the fields, he saw blood on the corn, which he took as a sign that his rebellion was to soon begin (Earl, 1993).

Tanzania 12.13.07

07Expatriates