Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Black in the Box 2012 Vol. 3: Memories


Memories are something we all have.  We can remember them or forget them.  Memories are being made daily no matter how bad or good they may be.  I remember growing up around the fast life and the day I became a part of it.
 I remember the day two of my school teachers called me a street thug.  Not to my face but amongst themselves.  I just happened to be walking by.  I had an A in one of those teacher’s classes and a B in the other.  Not bad for a street thug.  I remember asking them about certain problems and the short answers I received.  Answers that weren’t really answers at all. 
I remember trying to get a job at Taco Bell and being turned down.  I can read well so I know the sign said, “Now Hiring.”  Can’t say I didn’t try.  Some of my worst memories are the day I got arrested, the day I was found guilty and the day I was sentenced to death. 
I was 18 when I was arrested and 20 when I was sentenced.  Memories that were forgotten were starting to be remembered.  One in particular is of an old man (may he rest in peace) who used to drink wine a lot.  He used to talk to me (whenever I stopped to listen) about the old days.  Being that he drank a lot, most people figured he was talking non-sense and passed him by. 
Whenever I open a book I think of him.  Because of him Malcom X wasn’t just a movie to me.  Martin Luther King, Jr. wasn’t just a holiday and a boulevard.  Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad weren’t just some words mentioned in the same sentence. 
Now after learning about some of our history through books and word of mouth, I know that the odds have always been against us.  Slavery isn’t a myth to us, it’s real.  Racial profiling is just our imagination, its real.  There are still obstacles when it comes to schools and jobs.  We’re forced to do what we can to survive. 
We’ve made sacrifices and have taken a lot of losses in the past and the present.  No matter the odds we’re still here.  As far as I’m concerned we’re not going anywhere.  I remember what our ancestors went through what I went through and what we’re going through now.  Memories are something that we all have.  We can remember them or forget them.  They’re experience that makes us who we are.  Let’s remember every day and never forget.
Black and Proud,
Scrappy
Copyright © 2012 by Bryan Bell

Black in the Box 2012 Vol. 2: February... what's the significance?

The month of February, the shortest but maybe the most significant…
It’s not about a color or shade
It’s about the fight for justice and equality. 
The search for truth and right. 
It’s about finding your purpose in life.
The young schoolyard boy who will whistle at Amber tomorrow, iIs he conscious?  Does he know to be on alert for what he is doing?  How many of us have a little bit of Emmit Till in us?  Don’t we all have a Dream? 
Is it wrong to educate a little girl and allow her the justice of knowing about Assata Shakur.  Or if I told my sister to be a Soulijah and don’t be afraid of “Midnight” after “The Coldest Winter Ever.” Who knows how many dark nights you experience? 
This is Black History month, but why and how is that significant?
What about the revolution?  How earth revolves around the sun.  Mother Nature works hard putting in overtime.  So every four years we can have an extra day, February 29th.  What one can accomplish in a day.  What better example signifies hard working people who struggle for so long when they make progress the world acknowledges.  I’m sure you know Harriet Tubman carried a revolver, but that does not have to be a revolving door.
I need a mentor.  I want to learn the drive and motivation behind an A student like Maya Moore; Exceptional baller, Uconn Alumni and champion.  The winningest athlete who’s collegiate history may never be broken.  Maya Moore is a rare link.  She is the lynx between Jim Crow and Minnesota.
The coldest month, the end of winter, leap year that sacred #4.  Four seasons, winter, spring, summer and fall.  Four ways to go north, south, east and west.  And you should feel blessed to have two arms and two legs, water, earth, wind and fire.
What are we celebrating?  Are we glorifying the suffering or recognizing triumph over oppression.  Many more martyrs will be made, paving the road to freedom will not cease with Malcolm X or MLK.  Do we salute Barack Obama for just being the president or should we salute the man for setting a strong precedent.  The zeal and longevity of the value in the 1st family and the beautiful strong black woman.
Who is your Valentine?  Some send their love anonymously, but February is not a mystery.  For some of the most extraordinary people life is cut short.  Maybe if they are lucky enough they may get one day where the world learns who or what they were.  Who hears about Michelangelo, Leonardo and Van Gogh?  But in America who knows the innovator the revolutionary who at 22 painted ‘Charles the First.’ The name is Jean-Michel Basquiat and he died forever young, you know the club 27.  Should he have a street? What better name will represent royalty and heroism? 
When in Rome you know to see the Sistine Chapel.  When in New York you should know to see Basquiat.  Was it graffiti, the voodoo, certainly a man is not his hair.  But before the Internet or an I-pod, myspace or facebook.  The Empire State was a canvas and Black History was there.
February everyone knows it’s Black History month, but why, what really are we focused on.  Because for me and other prisoners, I know we are focused on life.  You don’t need to be on Death Row to be focused on life.
Black and Proud,
J-Rock
Copyright © 2012 by Dushame Murrell

Black in the Box 2012 Vol. 1: The real measure of progress

It’s February again and time for Black-History Month.  And, once again we’ll sit through half-hearted presentations about African American’s contributions to American society.  I think it’s time we faced the fact that this concept has become dated and be done with it.  Really, how many more times do I have to hear the story of George Washington Carver to know my man was a wizard with the peanut?  I mean, if his descendants aren’t receiving royalties from peanut butter manufactures then what’s the point?
Last year, Governor Bob McDonnell of Virginia proposed a confederacy month to commemorate a time when black people knew their place, but the ridiculousness of his proposal only crystallized for me the futility of the whole concept.  The genius of African American ingenuity is part of the fabric of America, as is slavery, segregation and lynching.  No need to have a national ceremony for any of it.
The fact is as a whole we have regressed.  Kudos for the progress we’ve made.  We have been resilient throughout the most brutal, inhumane treatment of any people on earth.  And it is that fortitude that needs to be channeled today to achieve greatness the world has yet to witness.  However, do not be deceived, the progress we’ve made to date has been mostly cosmetic and illusory.  Our hierarchal status in American society is the same today in the 21st century as it was in 1911; even below that of recent immigrants to this country.
We should know our history; a lot of us don’t.  And it should not be relegated to one month of brief overviews of certain individuals.  And when you declare one month as a time to celebrate your history, you inadvertently imply the other eleven months are not; and how ironic that February just happens to be the shortest month.  Your culture and history are what link you to the human family.  And that requires a life-long commitment to study-everyday; especially for us – a people whose history has been attacked, suppressed and hidden.
And while we’re at it, let’s stop playing the color game; we should be beyond that now.  There is only one race and that is the human race.  People with pigmented skin are descendants of Africa and originate from that continent.  The color game was introduced to create a pseudo-hierarchal order that placed us on the bottom, and still impacts us to this day.
Let’s leave the Crayolas to the grade-schoolers and get down to grown folks business.  Leave the antiquated concepts to the revisionists who need them.  And let us begin to make some history here, now – today that will make a better world. 
Black and Proud,
Mr. Blue
Copyright © 2012 by Paul Brown

Black in the Box 2012: The introduction

Hotep,
The progression of a people is underlined by the history of their struggle.  We tend to view African American sports figures and entertainers in music and movies as the manifestation of our progress as a people.  “Look how far we’ve come,” some would say.
For the past eight years the dominance of Lebron James has given the National Basketball Association a new face.  Without any college experience he took to the pro game as if he was meant to be a professional baller.  A beautiful thing, right?  That may be so, but if Lebron is the progress then Bill Russell is the undisputed struggle.
Throughout the 1950s and 1960s, Bill Russell was the man in the middle for the Boston Celtics.  He was loved by many for his accomplishments on the court (11 championships in 13 years), but he spent many sleepless nights on the team bus because blacks weren’t accepted as patrons in some of the hotels that Celtic management chose to frequent.
Bill used his occupational platform to stand for peace, equality and most importantly, humanity.  In some cases, he individually boycotted Celtics games by not showing up at game time, risking his career and fan base for the betterment of future race relations between whites and blacks.  That’s what’s up!
This month, people everywhere acknowledged Black history.  The genius of Benjamin Banneker should register when you’re looking forward to that extra hour of sleep in the fall.  Feel me?
The craftsmanship of John Standard and Garret A. Morgan should come to mind whenever you restore your drink with and ice cube or when you drive through an intersection accident free.  Na mean?
Welcome to “Black in the Box 2012.”  Simmering within this box is the Realness of veteran essayist, “Mr. Blue,” the educational wordplay of up and coming biographer, J-Rock and the compassion and subtle pride of a first time contributor to Word to the Masses, Scrappy.
Black history is more about humanity than anything else.  That humanity exists in your living rooms your workplaces and even here on death row.  So please allow me to turn the handle that unleashes their soul-stirring expressions.  What better way to end this leap year Black History Month.
Black and Proud,
MannofStat
Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Monday, February 27, 2012

Tick, Tick, Tick

Hotep,

There’s a science to doing time:  “You do the time.  Don’t let the time do you. “I observe cats everyday doing their time.  For general population, doing time could be working in the chow hall or maintaining the floors in the hospital.  There are a variety of janitorial jobs available for inmates in general population, but for death row, doing time isn’t as simple.
The jobs available to death row inmates are limited.  Unlike general population, death row is not a revolving door.  Jobs like the canteen operator and hall janitors have been occupied by the same inmates for years.  So, for most of the death row population doing time comes down to table-top games and watching television, which leads to in-depth discussions that eventually, evolve into debates.  Real talk.
This science of doing time works well for the cats who truly believe they deserve to be here.   In some cases, they may not feel as though they deserve to be on death row.  So a life sentence would be bearable.  Maybe they could get a job in the gym?  Or work in the captain’s office changing coffee filters and running errands.  These jobs help the inmate to do their time without concerning themselves about the remainder of their earthly existence being lived behind this wall.
You may ask yourself: “What death row prisoner wouldn’t be relieved by their death sentence being commuted to life without parole?” And the answer would be me, your MannofStat.  You see, writing, reading and playing basketball has helped me get through some rough patches, throughout this bid.  But nothing, and I mean nothing, can drown out the sound of my life’s clock ticking away.  Every minute.  Every hour.  Tick. Tick. Tick.  I’m a death row prisoner.
I’m not an inmate.  So life without parole doesn’t suit me.  I’m a prisoner.  Despite what you may think there is a difference.  An inmate accepts their punishment and finds a way to be thankful that they’re not in the next man’s shoes.  As long as they’re not facing execution, doing time is a piece of cake.  Na mean?
A prisoner on the other hand, constantly thinks about life on the outside.  A prisoner never forgets taking walks with his moms and the tone of her voice as she advises him about life’s hurdles.  A prisoner never forgets helping his pops repairs the roof of their home.  Or the sound of his instructions while changing the water pump of a diesel engine.  A prisoner will never give up hope and freedom is always his top priority.
Keeping fresh memories of holidays and family get-togethers and continuously yearning for the sweet touch of the woman who loves her Mann.  This is how a prisoner gets through the day, one minute at a time.  Feel me?
The state of North Carolina may refer to me as an inmate, but I assure you, I’ll be a prisoner until true justice is served and I’m living my memories on the other side of the wall.  Ya heard?
Peace,

MannofStat, NP 4 Life
Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Monday, February 20, 2012

On the Move Volume 3: Crutchless

Hotep,
Ice Cube – one of the greatest MC’s to ever rise from the West – gave a true account of a man not knowing what to expect from day to day, but acknowledge the vibe of goodness when it’s in the air. 
“Woke up this morning, gotta thank God. 
I don’t know, but today seems kind of odd.”
It’s Saturday (1/7/12/) and I’ve been on my feet couldn’t resist a dose of some Divine Creation.  Na mean?  The warmth of the Creator’s star sparked an adrenaline rush that coerced me to try a single set of bench press.  I haven’t done any weight training since my surgery (12/6/11), so feeling that weight across my chest was somewhat exhilarating.  “Philly” (my boot) and I are still rolling like the Obamas; inseparable.  Ya heard?
Needless to say:  I need to remain cautious about my physical activities.  I’ve been doing pull-ups throughout the week – as a means of giving my body some form of cardiovascular activity.  Dr. Charron is scheduled to follow up on my progress this Wednesday (1/11/12).  I’ve shelved the state’s crutches for my daily trips to and from the chow hall.  But, I will make use of them when I make the trek to the new prison hospital and the new prison hospital is where those crutches will remain.  Feel me?
I’ll expect the good doctor to clear me for some minor physical therapy and give the okay for my return to pod 6.  I mean, it’s not like I’m not enjoying politicking – on the daily – with Nasty Nas, Jamil and my youngsta Streets.  We got H.A.M. with the topics of life, law and music. 
I’m going to really miss our rap sessions, but the environment upstairs is more conducive to my love for sports.  Ironically enough; today I watched the college b-ball tripleheader – followed by a doubleheader of the NFL playoffs.  With another day of football to come; you’ll get no complaints from me.  Ya heard?
This fourth week of my recovery process has been the reflection of Ice Cube’s timeless quote that I spoke of earlier.  I put down the crutches this week.  The flow of holiday mail was unending (Good look, Aunt Cat!  I love you madly), and the visit from my homegirl editor, Rochelle was the icing with extra sprinkles on my TastyCake.  Even as youngstas in the hood, she’s always been able to make me smile.  Talking with her puts me in a better place altogether.  She never lets me forget that my purpose is much bigger than any concrete box.  That’s what’s up!!  Asante, Ma.
A surge of independence flows through my core whenever I walk past the state’s crutches, but when times get rougher than a Brillo pad; it’s a blessing to have someone to lean on.  Word is bond!
I love you fam.
One,
MannofStat
Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Monday, February 13, 2012

Realness 101

"A downward spiral in our education system is that there is too much stroking and too little real feedback."- Randy Pausch

Hotep,

The above quote was taken from the National Bestseller, "The Last Lecture," a book derived from the lecture of Professor Randy Pausch; a man dying from terminal cancer.Reading the words of a dying man was nothing less than a moving experience for me. Now, I'm sure hearing that from a voice that's speaking from a death row prison cell is like a Philly snowfall in mid-January; it's expected. Right?

Well, the fact that I've been sentenced to die isn't the only reason I'm feeling the words of a dying man. Professor Pausch's entire expression was the result of his intent to educate and inspire anyone taken aback by life's mudslides. I mean, sometimes falling down can be a very painful experience. But, getting back up can lessen the sting of that fall depending on how determined you are to succeed. Na mean?

Mrs. Daisy Meyers was known as the "Rosa Parks of the north." on August 13, 1957, she and her fam integrated Levittown, Bucks County in Pennsylvania. The days to follow turned out to be a racial hell, rather than a peaceful homeowner's transition. She and her fam endured weeks of constant harassment, vandalism and snarling racist neighbor's screaming insults. At one point, hundreds of demonstrators surrounded the house. Cars rode up and down the street blaring "Dixie" and "Old Black Joe," along with a confederate flag being hung from a vacant house across the street. SMH

That mudslide was incapable of suffocating the moxy of an innovator living her dream. Mrs. Meyers became a school teacher/principal in York, PA and went on to pen a book, "Sticks and Stones" about her experience with the Levittown miring. Ironically, Professor Randy Pausch felt that innovators were similar to the initial penguin that jumps into waters that might contain predators: "somebody's got to be the first penguin. Feel me?

As always, I gotta keep it 100. All of this talk about education and innovators leads me to a commendable expression catering to the recent and future achievements of my niece, Denyse (Nyse) and my cousin Jasmine (Jazzy). Nyse recently received her Associate of Business Administration with a concentration in Information Systems. She's currently pursuing a Bachelor's of Fine Art in Visual Communication with a concentration in Web Design and Development. That's what's up! Stay on your grind, Playa.

Jazzy is on track to graduate at the top of her class at Cardinal O'Hara High School. She co-produced a documentary about the mudslides suffocating Philly's inner city youth called: "For Our Eyes Only," as a high school sophomore. Real talk.Jazzy is currently weighing her academic options as to where she'll attend school this coming fall. Her recent acceptance of admission into the Film Bachelor of Science at a particular film school is a strong indicator that Jasmine is well on her way to an exciting career within the world of entertainment and media. Word is bond!

Congrats to the both of you. The x-chromosome in my fam unleashes the pride of a Mann. Feel me? Nyse, Jazzy, please hear me when I say, we are the fruit that came from a tree of innovators. Don't be afraid to fail. Living your dream is a success within itself. You just gotta get it in! Ya heard?"

Experience is what you get when you didn't get what you wanted."- Randy Pausch

Holla if ya hear me,

MannofStat
Copyright (c) 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Monday, February 6, 2012

Have Another Sip

Hotep,
I know we’re well into 2012, but I still have a speck of negativity on my shoulder from 2011.  This blogosphere never ceases to amaze me.  I get love from all corners of the map.  Na mean?  When I wrote “Hot Chocolate Takes Me Away” (http://word2themasses.blogspot.com/2011/10/hot-chocolate-takes-me-away.html), my intent was to pass through some of the pivotal episodes in the story of my existence, while professing my love for the sweetness of Hot Chocolate.  It wasn’t meant to inflame the insecurities of an “Anonymous Husband.” Real Talk.
It’s clear this “Anonymous Husband” has issues with me.  Believe me; I recognize this transmission of W2TM isn’t easily accepted by those who may choose to believe everyone inside the box is guilty of whatever they’ve been charged with.  So, it’s all good “Anonymous Husband.”
However, I do have to question your judgment.  As a father of 2 sons, do you really think it was wise to denigrate their mother (my ex) in cyberspace?  What type of example does that set for these young black men you’re raising?
I mean, the credentials you listed, in your comment, make you sound like an educated fellow, who’s well respected in his community.  Even I applauded your efforts to rehabilitate convicted felons.  Trust me, you’ve helped me a great deal already.  What I can’t understand is your position of defending “The Sistas who are no longer here,” while you publicly attach and ridicule the mother of your children – as well as the strong minded Sistas who support this blog.  Don’t you realize this transmission is worldwide?  Your words are now and forever a part of this movement “Anonymous Husband.” Do you not think that your sons will one day read this?  SMH  Wow!!
I promised my editor that I would respond to your comment without joining you in disrespecting your wife.  So I’ll apologize for you taking offense to my revelation about who I should love.  But, allow me to ask you this, “Anonymous Husband:” Would you reveal to a court of law your connection to W2TM, if you are called to serve on the jury of a capital murder case?  Will you tell the court about your “One last cup of Hot Chocolate?”  Or, will you allow the court and the defendant to believe you can be rational-minded and without bias, while performing your civic duties as a juror?
First impressions shouldn’t define a person’s character, but I get the distinctive feeling that your jury duty would be too convenient for you to hand down a life altering punishment to someone you wished was me.  If I’m wrong, you’re more than welcome to correct me.  If I’m not, your silence is the only answer this blogosphere needs.  Ya heard?
Keep it 100,

MannofStat (NP 4 Life)
Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann