Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Unwrapping G-Dad: A Birthday Gift for Daleah


PHILLY!!

I come from the cheesesteak hoagie,
     My neighbor’s camera,
          and Pop Pop’s hair clippers.

I belong to my Mom’s heavy hands,
     Pine Sol’s lemony fresh scent,
          City exhaust, ain’t nothing sweet.

I come from loving to write,
     The exhausted appeals of another death row prisoner,
          Everybody in prison is innocent.

I know thinking rationally isn’t the same across
     The board.

 And, I am an ocean,
      A tidal wave!

So much left undiscovered.


This was my opening monologue in the ground-breaking play, SERVING LIFE.  It is the “I come from” poem that symbolizes what was – becoming what is.  Twenty summer seasons have rotated throughout my time inside of “the Box.” The past four have been celebratory, a newfound freedom while remaining imprisoned.

My granddaughter, Daleah is the reason.  Now, I know at this juncture of her promising existence, the words I express may come off as a jigsaw puzzle without color, she can’t tell one piece from the next.  But G-Dad is here to reveal a clear picture for you, Lil’ Mama.

The beginnings of a Mann will always be tethered to you. So let’s’ put this puzzle together – decode this familial blueprint and you will see me, when I was you:
The cheesesteak hoagie is the sandwich of my city (PHILLY).  Served with the works and a side of cheese fries; your G-Dad was a fixture in steak shops.

My next-door neighbor was a professional photographer.  His work captured my earliest years – all the way up to my high school graduation, and eventually the promotional photos of a Hip-Hop career that ended too soon.  Love ya, Mr. V.

Julius Samuel was my maternal grandfather.  He was a barber by trade.  The “ART Barbershop” was a staple in our family dynamic.  Pop-Pop was a positive male influence when I needed one, Baby Girl.

My Moms’ heavy hands are easily decoded as, “Moms didn’t play no games.” The lemon scent of Pine Sol was common in our house, and the exhaust fumes of public transportation (SEPTA) were a constant.  There was nothing sweet about my treks through the city.

Writing has helped me to deal with loss.  Writing, to me, is like bench pressing: I get the stress off of my chest while raising the bar of my own expectations.  Feel me?

The stigma of “every prisoner claiming innocence” is frustrating.  I knew a man who said he was innocent for 33 years.  Because of that stigma, he entered prison a teenager, and then he was eventually released as a middle-aged man.  SMH.

And know this, Daleah; rational thinking can be deceptive when love comes into play.  An ideology that keeps me from holding you in my arms.

The beauty of an ocean is its mystery.  Most eyes can only explore the surface, but there is so much more to be discovered.  So much potential that goes unseen, but every now and then a tidal wave gets everyone’s attention.  Ya heard?

This “I come from” poem is my gift to you Lil’ Mama.  The Mann legacy is an ocean.  Be a tidal wave Daleah.

Happy Born Day, Baby!!!

G-Dad.
Copyright © 2016 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Seated As One


Re: SHOOT, THAT WAS EASY, by Helen Ubinas

Seven minutes is all it takes to own the weaponry suited for soldiers putting their lives on the line for the stars and stripes that represent this country’s freedom.  Seven whole minutes… The difference between patriot and domestic terrorist.

The recent sit-in protest concerning gun control legislation is an action that is long overdue.  200 democratic leaders, led by Georgia Rep. John Lewis shouted, “No bill, No break,” on the floor of the House chamber.  After the worst mass shooting in American history (if you don’t count the 1923 Rosewood Massacre or the 1921 Tulsa Riot or the Elaine Massacre of 1919) the whole world is watching US.

It is unfortunate that we are a culture empowered by guns.  On television and in our movies, guns are a stronghold that our children identify with whenever they are rewarded with water guns, cap guns, B.B. guns, and plastic M-16’s.  How is this any different than giving a child a replica of a suicide bomber’s vest for Christmas? Or a rope that assimilates a hangman’s noose as a birthday gift?

Our country’s progression is handicapped by the easy access to firearms that are constructed for the purpose of holding down battlefields – not for the sake of unleashing terror on an elementary school in Newtown, CT, or a gay nightclub in Orlando, FL.  This is why I applaud the cavalier journalism of Helen Ubinas.  Her guilty style of “getting the story,” demonstrated that it only took seven minutes to buy an AR-15.  Approximately 8 days prior to the efforts of democrats to shut down the House’s legislative work.

Gat, tool, heat, hammer, sender, strap, steel and cannon; colloquialisms that make firearms synonymous with crime.  “My Uzzi Weighs a Ton,” “Tons of Guns,” “Pass Me the Gat,” and “Reign of the Tec,” is a soundtrack, which perpetuates the stigma of a gun being a sensible resolution.  I guess this is why a middle-aged Latina woman had no problem walking into a Philly gun shop and purchasing an AR-15 assault rifle during her lunch break.

“Turn out I don’t need a story. The AR-15 is on display in the window of the gun shop.  It is being promoted as the gun of the week,” she says while carrying a cardboard box over half of her height.  Just think about the burning scent a cap gun leaves after each trigger thrust.  Or, how about the dialogue between kids when another doesn’t respect the rules of being shot while playing cops and robbers:

“You dead.  I shot chu when you was hidin behind the statue.”

“No I ain’t, cause I shot chu a long time ago when you tried to hide behind the car.”

These are words of make believe, today, but what do these words say about the future of this country?

If acquiring an assault rifle is as simple as presenting valid identification proving your American citizenship and $759.99, then Helen’s summation reads more like a cautionary take rather than a citizen being cautiously optimistic, “If nothing changed after children – babies – were slaughtered inside their school, do any of us really believe anything will change following the deaths of people so many fear and loathe simply for trying to live their truth.”

It took more time for her to turn the gun into police that it did to make the purchase.  As she filled out the lengthy paperwork, she noticed a sign hanging on the wall in the police station, “United We Stand.”

What is it that we are standing for as a country, when the barbarity of a few laying down Americans in masses?  There must be a vote on measures to expand background checks and block gun purchases.  “No bill, No break” is why the House chamber floor is covered with seated Democrats.  United so that it is safe to stand again.

Leroy E. Mann

Copyright © 2016 by Leroy Elwood Mann