8 More Sleeps!

My basketball team played in Monday and got beat like they stole something from someone's mama. Now they didn't get beat. They essential were scared and just refused to overcome and conquer their fears therefore giving away the power to even be close in the game. With two minutes left in the game and the other team up by more than 20 points, the other coach subs in a kid who was at the deepest end of the bench. This kid comes of the floor and before he could even get a little sweat on his brow, chooses to throw a punch at my star player. I ran across the floor and grabbed my guy before he could even imagine doing something and then placed myself between the crazy kid and my bench. One of my nuts who was playing like a scared rabbit because his shot got blocked early, tries to run from off the bench (yes, the kid who has the following as his MSN name, ("You niggers are like dicks in a swimming pool, none of you hard"). The referee gets control of the situation. The teacher supervisor of the home school where we were playing clearly has no control of his maniacs didn't even move. We end up shooting 4 free throws plus get the ball back and Issac scores a 3pt shot making this errors in judgment worth a 7pt turnaround. In a close game that matters. I spend the better part of 5:30 to 6:30 chastising my players for the poor choices they made that contributed to the loss and then yesterday during study hall and practice we regroup to prepare for today's game. Now, remembering that the contract I have my players on in order to play is ironclad and absolutely ridiculous but they all signed it. I left them to organize themselves for a team meeting today at lunch. What do I get in return for this donation of trust? I go downstairs for cafeteria duty to observe none of them in a meeting and in fact, they aren't even together as a team. Then the cafeteria lady comes over to provoke me further in order to tell me about the player who was rude not only today but so much so she was required to revoke his cafeteria privileges for the rest of the school year. Would these be the same young men everyone was ranting and raving about Saturday night who were two hours late for a contribution opportunity? Would this be the same young men who claim they are learning from this opportunity? What would happen if their progress was not being fostered, encouraged, or monitored? Why do we teach?

"beaten into submission"
"It's so bad, now I'm irresponsible"

The Loss of a Legend -- Tamara Dobson RIP!

Just today I read an article about whether or not the black community is to share the blame for the poor self-image among our youth. The fact that the "Doll Test", originally done in the 1930's by Dr. Kenneth Clark, can still bring out feelings of upset, is a sign that there is still much work to do. At the same time, it got me thinking about my own ideas of self-image and who were some of the people I aspired to be like when I was growing up. My mind immediately went to Tamara Dobson.

Growing up all of the super heroes on television were white and rarely women. Wonderwoman was the only one but she wasn't real. As a little black girl in Canada, I was consumed by wanting to look like and be like "Cleopatra Jones". The first time I ever saw her, I immediately wanted to star in the movie that revived her ground breaking role. Who was the woman behind the image of this powerful, unstoppable black woman?

Her name was Tamara Dobson. She passed away quietly on Monday, October 2, 2006 of complications from pneumonia and multiple sclerosis at a Baltimore rehabilitation facility where she had been living for the last two years. She had no children and was never married.

Where were the tributes, the news breaks, celebrity support, the specials in the name of this sistah? Nothing about the impact this sistah had on the development of positive self-image. She made little girls feel powerful, grown women feel sexy, and men fall to their knees wishing for just a quick glance from this tall African goddess.

Tamara Dobson was born May 14, 1947. She worked as a model appearing in magazines such as Vogue, Essence, and Mademoiselle. Her best cover ever was on Ebony magazine sporting her signature giant afro. She also appeared in a number of television commercials and served as the face of Faberge's "Tigress" and Revlon's "Charlie" perfumes. In 1973, Ms. Dobson burst onto the silver screen in her pioneering role of "Cleopatra Jones",

the introduction of the world's first black super heroine. Prior to her role as Cleopatra Jones, the blaxploitation genre had been distinguished primarily by black men doing battle with the white establishment, crooked cops, drug dealers, and pimps. "Cleopatra Jones" would be the inspiration for other tough, black female leads like "Coffey", "Foxy Brown", and "Black Belt Jones".

In 1975 she reprised her super spy role in "Cleopatra Jones and the Casino of Gold". A federal agent fighting the drug trade in the United States and abroad, her character was considered to be the female version of James Bond.

This kung fu kicking, afro wearing, six foot-two inch sistah, made being tough hot and sexy. She inspired many of the mid-1970s fashion trends, including the popular waist-length, leather-trimmed fur jacket.

Tamara Dobson was my hero and I wanted to just be like her. I am tremendously saddened by her death. She was a pioneer and trailblazer in Hollywood at a time when a black women were rarely shown in a positive light. She was powerful enough to challenge the stereotypes of black women in both black and white America. Other than Angela Davis, she rocked the afro like no other! Hail to Queen -- Tamara Dobson.

When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Parts by Spike Lee

All four parts of Spike Lee's "When the LeveesBroke..." aired last night on the Movie Network from11:30pm -3:45am. An odd time but it means that itshould be on several more times and I suggest youwatch it if you get a chance. This is my second time seeing it and I still believe it to be some of Spike's best work ever.

It brought you back to all of the emotions of a year ago while at the same time giving you some incite into the intentions/feeling/actions of some of the players in this natural/human disaster.
Still unresolved are the actions of the Core ofEngineers, FEMA, and Bush "Satan" Jr and his minions.

There is much work that needs to be done in New Orleans. The call to us is too powerful for us toignore. As we dwell in the IBS declaration for thisyear, "I am my vision fulfilled", and we prepare for our journey to New Orleans for the 2007 IBS event, I can't help but feel a strong connection to the contribution we can be for that community and how fulfilling that experience will be for those of us who are a stand for New Orleans (and its residence) to return to its former magnificance. Bigger, better,brighter because we as a community refuse to allow this community to stand alone.

Stay tune for more opportunities to engage in that dialogue and please watch Spike's documentary.

Random "Wow" moments

"Intelligence plus character -- that is the goal of true education" -- Martin Luther King Jr.

What if there is no character? What happens to or in the education process then? Well this week I am learning, getting that "education".

Student #1 - Case of the mysterious stolen email account

The following was emailed specifically to a group of basketball players and one coach:

"I QUIT THIS TEAM YOU FUCKING IDIOT THE WHOLE TEAM IS HORRIBLE IM THE ONLY GOOD 1 !! FUCK YOU AND THE TEAM"

I was surprisingly calm when I received the message and not in any way ruffled or surprised. I replied to let this individual know that although their action were extremely disappointing, they still had an opportunity to mend the relationship that they were in the process of destroying. At about 9:45 pm that evening I received a paniced phone call. The young man in question was offering a plea claiming that he would never do that kind of thing and that someone had broken into his email account and sent the message. When I inquired about how someone knew to send it to the members of the basketball team and the coach, the young man had no answer. I hung up the phone saying that I didn't know whether or not I should believe the "stolen email account" story. The next day I got another message from the same young man asking when the next practice was so that he could attend. WOW!

Student #2 -- Case of the PINT

There are three students from my high school who also play on my club team. The instruction was because you are already at the school where we practice, it doesn't make sense for you to try to get home before practice. Use your time wisely and go to study hall in the coach's classroom before practice (school ends at 3 pm, practice starts at 4:45). One of the students was attending regularly but on the day in question he made a poor choice and was being punished for it. The second student never attends so while I was dealing with one, I thought it was appropriate to deal with the other. Both students were told not to return to practice for the rest of the week as punishment for not attending study hall. The next day one of the expelled players came to my room claiming the expulsion was unfair because I was mad at the other guy so that's why he got in trouble too;

Coach: "Were you in study hall?"
Player: "No, but..."
Coach: "What is your point because right now you only have a PINT?"
Coach: "Have you been to study hall since you got kicked out of practice?"
Player: "No"
Coach: "Have you attended study hall regularly?"
Player: "No"
Coach: "Since March, how many study halls would you say you have been to?"
Player: "Um, two"
Coach: "I have nothing more to say because obviously you don't get it"
Player: "I do get it"
Coach: "Then sit down and be quiet because if you keep pissin me off study hall isn't going to be what you need to worry about and if I start cussin you are going to cry"

Coach leaves the room but is stopped in the lower hallway before leaving the building. Three minutes have elapsed and the same student comes walking down the hallway escorted by a young lady. At that point I tell the player to return the jersey and not to return to the team at all. The next day he's at my door and wants to apologize for his behaviour and wants another chance. WOW!

Student #3 -- Case of absences being more than my age

This particular student has a double double going in my class. Great if we are talking basketball but hers are double digits for absences (28) and double digits for lates (15). Mark in the class is 25%. Yesterday we had a futile conversation in an attempt to help shake her to consciousness about how she is being in my class and in all her classes is affecting her achievement. We go back and forth, going to great lengths to demonstrate that her leaving teachers with the impression that she is "less than capable" can't possibly serve her desire to attend a post-secondary education institution. After an hour of overstanding the student says:

Student: "Can I have the work for tomorrow?"
Teacher: "Why?"
Student: "I won't be in class. I'm going on the grad trip"

WOW!

Being Smart will make you unpopular...

A student shared an article with me the other day that was claiming that being a "nerd" or "smart" will make you unpopular. It may seem strange to say that because these are suppose to be diametrically opposed understandings - smart versus dumb, powerful versus powerless. How could someone who is smart be the unwanted individual while playing or appearing not so smart be the more desired outcome? This has been the position of my inquiry on this issue since I first heard Marianne Williamson's poem used in both Akeelah and the Bee and Coach Carter:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.

Your playing small doesn't serve the world.

There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people will not feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.

It is not in just some of us; it is in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give people permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

For me what this poem gives me is power and permission to be great. I AM ENOUGH! It does not serve me to be small in order to not make others feel secure and that kind of power must certainly be a more attracting commodity then mediocrity. The work around this is recognizing those moments when I am feeling powerful and being able to duplicate them not only for my own growth and development but to also provide an opportunity to manifest that in the world around me. If this makes me unpopular then so be it but I doubt that it will because

"Sometimes we wake up knowing that something wonderful will happen. Most of the time it doesn't but when it does, it happens for real"

"My son has nothing to show for his win!"

This past weekend was the first annual Firebird Classic basketball tournament for Ottawa Phoenix Basketball. It is always amazing to be part of something that was once just in your imagination. That being said, I became very conscious this weekend about some of the things that we all hold as representative of our success. Unfortunately, these are not always things to be treasured but really meaningless trappings of a materialistic and unconscious existence. We have become so consumed by this false understanding, we place importance or emphasis on things that don't really bring anything into our lives and all of the things that should matter, get lost.

After the awards presentation at the tournament, a parent ran across the floor claiming that I must have made some kind of error and she wanted to know where her son's medal was.

Let's backtrack slightly. The losing team was presented with medals and the winning team was given a plaque. We then gave out nearly $400 worth of prizes to individual players - All Stars.

Back to the parent. She first approached Coach Waterman and when she was unsatisfied with his response, she came to me. All of her tournament experience over the years has lead her to the conclusion that he son is now going to leave our tournament experience heartbroken because he did not receive an individual medal as part of the "winning" team. When I told her that the award to the team was the plaque, she replied, "That means my son has nothing to show for his win." She then demanded that I print medals for the winning team. I responded to that with a resounding, "Hell no I won't!" I then asked her if she might want to address the possibility that her son's experience was greater than the $1.50 medal and that since it was a team effort (basketball being one of those sports), that it may be more appropriate to celebrate that the TEAM won. She wasn't hearing that at all. Her response was, "Who gets to keep the plaque?" The coach of the other team even offered that his team would be more than happy to give their medals because the last thing he needed in his life was another $1.50 medal. I reemphasized to her that it was the experience that mattered.

Now this would make so much more sense to me if we were talking about the feelings of a small child. This is the parent of a 17 year old young man. To win this tournament you had to play 7 games - 5 of which were all on Saturday. No one in that organization has ever had to work that hard, together with 11 other guys, to get a win. That is an experience! Instead of celebrating that, we were bickering over a $1.50 medal.

What is the world coming to? A place where someone must give you something for you to feel that your efforts are valued, a world where the individual is above the group, a world where it is always someone else's fault, a world where you never grow up because your parents enable you with everything, a world where, if we are not careful, our children will not develop the tools to do more than just survive, a world where selfish is celebrated and selflessness is shunned.

Just a thought. Holla back.

UPDATE - Black History Month has been saved!

This is the update of what transpired last night at the Toronto District School Board Trustee meeting in regard to the motion to change Black History Month to a homogeneous Heritage Month that is 'inclusive'.

This was the 3rd attempt that a number of members of Toronto's Black/Afrikan community have made to deal with this issue. The turned out wasn't as large as expected given how widely the email was sent out, nonetheless it was a very significant moment for several reasons.

Here are the events as they happened:

1. While they were in closed session, the trustee who tabled the motion came out and was confronted by the community who wanted to know why he would want to pass such a motion. He had no qualms telling the tv cameras that his motion was in support of the Tamil and Somali communities, who had expressed their dislike of Black history Month to him. The community challenged this and asked him to bring those constituents so we could hear them deny the honoring of their cultures and heritage for ourselves.

2. The trustee also claimed that another trustee, of Black African descent, was in support of his motion and that he was going to help him reword his motion to make it more appealing. This was also in front of the tv cameras.

3. Clearly this trustee must have missed history and geography class because he was not aware that Somalis are Afrikans, and Tamils are Asian. What was also evident is that this trustee did not seem to know that there was a difference between Somalis andTamils proving once again that we are perceived to be all the same because we look the same!

4. Members of the Afrikan/Black community, DEMANDED an immediate apology when the session resumed. One of the other trustees also demanded an apology from the nut in question for misrepresenting himself to the entire board and hence, tarnishing them by association as a TDSB management body.

5. This guy refused to apologize and repeated he had withdrawn his motion. At that point, the community SHUT THINGS DOWN! Vickie Mcphee, a powerful First Nations and Afrikan woman warrior, confronted the trustees and publicly demanded the matter be dealt with immediately and the trustee with the bad judgment be made to apologize. The board tried to shut her down but she boldly responded by saying she did not have to respect the chair because the chair DID NOT REPRESENT OUR COMMUNITY! They owed her respect as a 6th generation First Nations Afrikan Canadian. Civil disobedience instincts took over when the group started, "We demand an apology!" This forces the meeting to grind to a halt. The trustee in question took the opportunity to literally run out of the room and he went to hide in the safety of the back room.

6. After some hasty negotiations with the chair and other TDSB reps, the chair made a formal apology to the Black/Afrikan community and to those who the trustee had smeared with his lies.

The "oppressor" has been sent away to lick his wounds but you can be sure that he or someone like him will be back to try this mess again. The will step up the lies and deceit the next time so it's up to us as a community to make sure we stay diligent. The struggle continues!

"Let's cancel Black History Month" - NOT!

I received an email from a friend in Toronto and I am very disturbed that the Toronto Board of Education is even going to entertain this motion considering all of the problems they are having with youth in their city.

To marginalize black youth further will certainly result in even greater problems. Clearly there is some failure in the understanding of the purpose for this celebration and that making it "Heritage Month" is NOT inclusionary if that means you will limit the celebration of ALL heritage groups to the month of February.

It is incumbent on school districts to find more effective, proactive ways of demonstrating the importance of the historical contributions of people of African descent while at the same time honouring the same thing for people from other diverse backgrounds. If this plan is going to come with a complete change of the current education system, then great.

Since it will be more of the same, then this is a step back to the stone age. As a community, we have worked too hard to get schools to do the bare minimum and we already know that what is being done is not enough. Our children are suffering already and having them buy further into the stereotypes of black culture will never allow us to progress forward as a people. We know that doing more of the same will not work so imagine if we do less! Shame on the board of education for thinking they can sneak this one past us and then shame on us if we don't mek dem know we are a force to be reckoned with.

Sensation and Perception

I just experienced a hilarious and sad moment today in my Sociology, Anthro, Psych class.

We are doing Sensation and Perception. While handing out the work to students I overheard one student say to another, "Isn't perception what happens to women when they give birth?" This is what happens when you let a good public school education go to waste. As Kwame Dawes pointed out in his lecture the other weekend when he was here in Ottawa, Damion Marley's lyrics to Welcome to Jamrock address this,

Come on let's face it, a ghetto education's basic
And most a the youths dem waste it
And when they waste it, that's when dem mek the guns replace it
Then dem don't stand a chance at all

This young lady unfortunately doesn't have a gun to replace her lack of knowledge/understanding but it makes you wonder what she will replace it with because she will replace it with something. What am I doing as a teacher? I have had this student on two previous occassions. She managed to pass one and fail one. She is no closer to graduating then she was when I first had her in grade nine but I find it distrubing that she has been able to progress this far. Now just because she doesn't know the difference between "perception" and "conception" doesn't mean all hope is lost but you have to ask yourself, what the hell does she know?

She has fallen so far behind in the education process that she is no longer functioning with the confidence to even get through high school. How do we rescue students like this? How do we create an education system that is full of empowering experiences for all students versus what we do now -- a series of irrelevant or unrelated experiences that allow students to accumulate credits.

Does Money Make You More Attractive? - by Yasmine Parrish

It can be seen throughout Hollywood and on the red carpets of all the hottest events: mediocre, yet rich, men with beautiful women. The age-old question, "does money make a person more attractive?" comes up time and time again. Hugh Hefner, Donald Trump and even Flavor Flav are all examples of how dividends can have an effect on a man's attractiveness. While many women won't acknowledge that money makes a man more attractive, a number of them will agree that having money can increase the potential for people to enhance their physical qualities. "Just because a man has money doesn't mean he's automatically more attractive" began sophomore biology major Brittany Slaughter. "It gives them the power to buy clothes and take care of themselves better.

For example, take Jamie Foxx, money has helped his style so he's more attractive now."Though Foxx isn't the best example of a naturally unattractive celebrity, he is living proof of how going "Hollywood" can boost a person's ratings by more than a few notches."

Most people find money to be attractive, not literally, but money in most cases indicates an attractive lifestyle and that is attractive to everybody; it's human nature," said sophomore legal communication major Ashtane Jordan. "It shouldn't be that way, but it's true. If you see two guys on the street and they both are equally good looking and nice, but one has a nice car, who would you pick?" Jordan asked."The guy with the nicer car," she said.Chances are many people wouldn't disagree with Jordan, but it's always important to remember why someone is really special, with or without a bank account slip."Although style and being financially stable is important," commented Slaughter, "I need to be physically and emotionally attracted to the person first off." While the term gold digger is usually reserved for women, the term can also be used for men. It's not an uncommon scenario.

"Guys like girls who have money so it's not a one way street," Jordan said. "A woman who has money would just like a man of equal stature, but a gold digger wants a man with money so that he can provide for her."Though many people would call the young beautiful women who marry men like Donald Trump gold diggers, they might be motivated by more than money, Dan Savage of Forbes Magazine and author of "Does Money Make You More Attractive?" said in an article on msn. com."No one cuts women who marry rich men slack," Savage said. "We refuse to believe they honestly find these men attractive--after all, the men they're marrying are usually decades older and long past their looks-good-in-the-light-naked expiration date. Models and actresses who marry obscenely wealthy men, everyone agrees, must be interested in the money alone, and the power and the status it brings.""Wealth can attract money-grubbing gold diggers, but that's not always the case," Savage said. "Determining whether someone who was initially attracted to you for whatever reason-because you've spent the last three years in the gym doing crunches, or because you're Ronald Perelman-is sincerely in love with you for who you are requires emotional insight, the advice of trusted friends and a good pre-nup lawyer."All in all, while money can initiate a relationship, it might not be enough to truly maintain and fulfill one. For many people, money doesn't equal love. Although it might afford someone the ability to go "Hollywood," when all the plastic surgery has faded and the veneers aren't as perfect, only the person behind the money is left.

Who Got Game?

One of the nuts at Woodroffe was trying to tell me some nonsense the other day about Kobe scoring 80 points against the Raptors. I'm not trying to hate on Kobe's efforts but I just don't think the NBA is real basketball anymore. I'm still waiting for 60 Minutes or the Smoking gun to break the story about the NBA decision to not play defense because someone decided that the fans wanted to see more offence. That will be the scandal of the century and when it happens you won't be able to say that you didn't hear it before. I feel like Huey from Boondocks. I'm alone in this conspiracy but don't worry, I will be vindicated. Into to the scene to save the day is a 5'9" GIRL named Epiphanny Prince (yes it is spelled with two N's). She scored 113 points in a high school game. The reason I think this is a greater achievement is because, in the NBA you are actually suppose to score large numbers of points. Look at the way they design the game to make sure you can score. On a team like the Lakers, we already know a player like Kobe is going to have a break out game where he will score that many. In high school though and especially in the girls' game where they lack the 'power' component, the impact of an 113 pt game is much more significant. This little sister kicked some ass that day. Her achievement is much more realistic an achievement because she did it at the level that most of our guys play at and none of you have ever scored close to that. The other reason she needs to be given props is because if scoring 113 pts at any level was so easy, how come no one else has done it? That's the down home dirty truth about the world of basketball. She's headed to Rutgers next year. Where are some of you going?

My boy Dauwud added.....

I would like to add a small note to further support the young lady who scored 113 points in a high school game. Just as I did when Dajuan Wagner and a kid from Texas both scored over a hundred points in a high school game several years ago. There are 8 minutes per quarter in a high school basketball game. Therefore in order to score a hundred points in a high school game you would need to score at least 25 points in eight minutes. Most players do not score 25 points in an entire high school basketball game. Now think about how mathematically incredible it is to score a hundred points in a high school game. Considering you give up possession of the basketball after made shot or a turnover. Therefore you could never actually have eight minutes of time to score the 25 points in a quarter. Think about that for minute. Then you truly understand how incredible it is to score 113 points in a high school game. My hat's off to anyone who can achieve that feat, girl or boy. It does not matter because the competition is relevant to the participants. If Kobe were playing against middle school kids that would make it different. But the fact that the game is much longer than a high school game makes Kobe's feat not as impressive.

Now that makes sense!

A Celebration of Life....Gary Marc-Anthony Thompson (June 29, 1964-Jan 7, 2006)

I was a senior in high school when my American History class came to DC and I spoke to Gary over the phone for the first time. We were supposed to meet during that trip but our schedules didn’t allow that to happen. Two years later, when I decided to attend Howard University, my brother became one of the many lifelines who assisted me in assimilating into DC living. Some of my most cherished memories of DC, some of which I will share with you today, come from the adventures I had hanging out with my brother and his friends. We are three years apart in age. His birthday was one day before mine. As Cancerians, we shared many of the same characteristics which meant that if you had to deal with both of us at the same time, you were in trouble. He was the funniest person I have ever known and he was the first man, other than my dad, to love me unconditionally. He was my number one cheerleader, and he was never stingy with his encouragement. The relationship that my sister and I developed with Gary was slightly nontraditional for siblings but that meant we didn’t love him just because he was our brother, he was our friend. That so many of you are here today shows that we are not unique in that experience because he had an amazing ability to galvanize and attract people to him.

Gary Thompson attended the University of the District of Columbia (UDC) earning a degree in Communications and Mass Media. He worked at the student run radio station as a news announcer, deejay, assistant manager and general station manager. Under Gary’s management WUDC AM 830 was “College Radio Station of the Year” for two consecutive years. While at WUDC he and his marketing team created a foundation, which is now a national organization, involving college radio stations across the country. He was the only student to work for WHUR 96.3 FM (Howard University radio) will attending another university.

After graduation, Gary was employed by a number of private industry firms, achieving success at every turn. Gary’s enthusiasm for Mass Media would eventually merge with his love for working with young people. He worked at Anacostia High school in SE Washington teaching computer and mass media courses. While at Anacostia, he also coached the girls’ basketball team, allowing him to participate in another one of his passions – Sports. Gary was also an instructor at Howard Community College. He taught at a number of schools in the DC area like J.O. Wilson and The Sylvan Learning Centre. He was most recently an educator at Washington Mathematics, a Public Charter School, which was ranked as one of the top schools in America.

In between his commitment to the classroom, Gary worked as a traffic and weather announcer for both XM Satellite radio and Sirius Satellite Radio as well as WOL AM 1450. While Gary was with Sirius radio he thought it was cute to call me in the middle of the night so I could listen to him doing the weather or traffic for North Carolina or Philadelphia.

Gary was an innovator with an entrepreneurial spirit. He was devoted to learning and had a thirst for knowledge. He could carry on conversations in a number of subject areas with great provost. He could use his mastery of language in academic settings or to participate in one of our favourite pastimes, LIMIN’.

As I mentioned before, some of my most cherished memories are associated with Gary and DC. In fact, it is very difficult for me to separate or distinguish whether or not I just love DC or if I just loved coming to DC to visit and hang out with him. Even after finishing at Howard, I continued to be a regular visitor to this city just really trying to recapture that special feeling being here always gave me.

As a freshman I remember the commotion that Gary would cause on Friday nights at my dormitory. Gary was Dean of his Alpha Phi Alpha fraternity chapter and because I didn’t know my way around yet, it was the duty of one of the brothers on line to check in with me to see if I needed anything. It was always the same, a knock on the door followed by “Greetings great black sister from the North. Dean Al Capone sent us to see if you needed anything”. It made me famous in Meridan Hall for sure.

I ran on the Howard track team. Gary was a frequent supporter at Howard track meets partly because I was on the track team and partly because it was the best way for him to see women in tight shorts. After a performance at Howard Relays, Gary, Nat and I were walking home from a party passing the track outside his Gresham Place apartment. He started bragging to Nate about how well I had done. “It’s in the genes boy”, he said. That began the one of several foot races that Gary would have trying to prove that he was once an outstanding track and field athlete. In dress pants and dress shoes, he and Nat stepped onto the track. They really should have only gone about 10m but they decided to do 400m, a formidable race even for the most seasoned track athlete. But this was about bragging rights and family honour. To this day I can’t remember who won because I was in the middle of the field laughing so hard I didn’t see the finish. After retrieving some oxygen, the argument continued well into the night.

As we both moved further and further from our college years, we discovered a number of common interests that only further solidified our relationship. There were countless Homecomings and DC Carnivals. When I came to Washington last year with my basketball team, he was right there on the bench cheering and coaching as though he was a perfect part of the team.

Today we say good bye to this great Prince. Harriet Beacher Stowe said, “The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone”. Gary, in his deeds and in his words, will live with us forever. Life can never die. There is only life after life. This is merely a transition.

Funerals are not for the dead, they are for the living. God is giving us notice that we must work toward living our full potential. The person who has left us needs no notice because it is their time. They have not only served their purpose but fulfilled it. It up to us now to discover what our brother, friend, father, son, husband is trying to tell us. He is only a whisper away. I see him the face of his children, in the legacy of his commitment to family and friends.

While I was in Brazil in 2003, I attended a festival called “Irmandade da Nossa Sennhora da Boa Morte. Its literal translation is “The Sisterhood of the Lady of Good Death”. The festival is a celebration of the strength and power of the African spirit. This was a society of women who were slaves and they believed that once free you would die a “good death” or Boa Morte. A good death was a transition from the material to the spiritual world, no longer a slave. Here today, surrounded by his friends and family, Gary Marc-Anthony Thompson has died a good death.

On behalf of our family, immediate and extended, we thank you for the love and support you have shown us and for being part and present at what has been a great opportunity for all of us to celebrate the life of a great brother.

Women of Distinction Awards

May 2005

I didn't win but if I did.....

I am here today because I stand on the shoulders of all who have come before me and sacrificed to ensure my success. I could come back 999 times and I want to be a black woman each time (there was that one time I wanted to be a black man but I'm over it now). I love being black and I love the Black community. That love is directly linked to my love for my family and friends. I would like to thank them all for their love, support and commitment to all of the crazy things I have done over the years.

I thank my father for teaching me understanding and forgiveness.

My sister is my greatest cheerleader and is my motivation for wanting to be better. She is a true trailblazer.

My other mother, Millie, has shown me what true grace and excellence looks like.

To the women who were the motivation for 3Dreads and a Baldhead, (Jackie, Michelle, Michelle, Collette, and Shaun), I thank you for helping me remain true to my vision of "empowerment through laughter". Through highs and lows you are all my inspiration. And lastly,

To my mother who has taught me one of my most important lessons; as women we are sometimes force to recreate or reinvent ourselves. You have done so with class, creating a path that I have no choice but to follow because it is the greatest model of success that I have ever known. "You are the calm in a world full of thunder. I have no choice but to listen". Happy Mother's Day to my mother and to all of the mother's in the room tonight!

What does being a teacher mean to me?

November 2004 --

During my lesson on Canadian Human Rights, I had cause to share with my students the story of living in Trois Riveriere (small town Canada) as a nine year old (my sister was 5) when my mother was learning French at the college there. We were the only black family in the whole city it seemed like. The black girls in the class were definitely feeling me when I described my mother's face when she would arrive to pick us up at the babysitter after we had been swimming in their pool, two ashy picaninies with hair in every direction. Just as the laughter was at its height, the Principal walked by and stuck his head in the room to see what the hell was going on. He actually left and came back to sit through the rest of my lesson. Even though my first feeling was one of being checked up on, what I noticed about the experience was for a brief and rare moment the black students and I had an unspoken connection. A truth that only we knew. It happened so quickly that I almost missed it. We totatlly knew what was going on and th white people in the room were on the outside looking in trying to figure it out. What was present was an experience that we had all shared as black people and in that moment, I felt free. For the first time since I came back from Africa, I became conscious to what motivated me to do this everyday and it was a great moment. I hope it happens again tomorrow!