Insanity: Sick & Tired Of Being Sick & Tired...

"Insanity: Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results." - Albert Einstein.

From the time that I was a kid I was told by my elders (father, mother, brothers, sisters, etc.) to always show respect for police officers and for that matter any figure of authority. I was told to always be mindful that as a you Black boy, I was and am a target for hatred and fear for those that might want any excuse to do me harm. I was told to walk with less swagger in my gait, talk with less bass in my voice, be less expressive with my body gesturing or arms flailing and a host of other coping mechanisms. But what happens when all of those things fail to work? What happens when the very things that you were taught as survival techniques start to make you more of a target. This brings me back to the A. Einstein quote at the top of the page.

As the video starts (See Above) I see two smaller officers confronting a bigger man that seems a bit animated but is non-threatening to either officer in frame. To be fair, there seems to be an edit but then as the video continues I see one of the officers make contact with Mr. Garner from behind and then that same officer applies a choke hold to Mr. Garner. As more officers join in you can see that Mr. Garner has both hands up (in an act of compliance or at the very least, non-aggression)  he then immediately tells the officers that he can't breathe. As the fray continues, Mr. Garner hits the ground with with both hands loose before his right hand is placed behind his back by one officer and his right hand is free, with his palm open (another act of compliance or at least non aggression). At this point you can hear a muffled Mr. Garner telling the officers repeatedly that he can't breathe...

Let's forget about the race of all of these men for the sake of argument. Let's forget about the fact that there are 4 officers to 1 civilian. Let's even forget about the FACT that the officers initially confront Mr. Garner for suspicion of an offense that requires a fine and not arrest, despite that fact that it was later discovered that this man didn't even have in his possession what he was accused to have. Let's even forget that the choke hold used to subdue Mr. Garner has been banned for use by police officers for years. No matter how many elements we attempt to eliminate it still comes down to this one truth, a man died for nothing more than refusing to be bullied by a cop. We actually see this man's last moments on this earth play out for the entire world to take note.

Mr. Garner was a hulking man. Does anyone actually believe that he couldn't toss these little gnats off of him if he wanted to? He instead took the passive approach, that same approach that most if not all Black men are taught from an early age. I can clearly see and hear that he wants to be left alone. I can clearly see that he is afraid that if he uses any sign of force that he might pay for it with his life. I also see that he trusted in a system that is there supposedly to protect and serve but instead was swarmed upon by a pack of rabid hyenas there to take down their prey, dressed as police officers. All of this over a cigarette (loosey), the same item that can be purchased at any bodegas on that very block. Mr. Garner is dead.

Let me ask each of you one question? If you knew that you were about to die and you had a chance to defend yourself wouldn't you do so? Most people would come out kicking and screaming yet in this case Mr. Garner didn't appear to use any of his physicality to fight the officers off. We didn't see him throw one punch. We didn't even see him ball up his fist in an attempt to stop the officers from choking him. What we saw was a man passively resisting at first and then pleading for his God given right, A CHANCE TO BREATHE! What more do we have to see?

Wake Up America! How long are we supposed to trust that we are all safe? I'm serious! How long are we supposed to remain passive as we are rounded up for any petty reason that officers choose to detain us to have it end in murder? Why should I continue to trust that I won't be next in the fray? When did public servants take on the role of public masters & executioners???

There are some that will read this as an attempt to drum up trouble or a call to arms against the police,  to those folks I'll say simply this; Try that old "distraction tactic" on someone else, re-read what I have written without trying to read into it. I am saying that reform is needed in the worst way. I'm saying that our coping mechanisms have reached a tipping point as they no longer work to save us at all. I'm not so sure that they ever did work, after all I've learned that until you stand up to most bullies, you will indeed forfeit your lunch money to them on a daily basis. The day for being passive is over, it time to stand up and hold these few bad apples accountable for their crimes. The police are supposed to protect and serve not play judge and jury, not to bully folks just because they seem out of place and certainly not to assume criminality based on race or stereotypes. If the rough and tumble times are character defining moments, then America it's time to see what type of character we really have. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.

  

 

 

Let's Listen, Internalize, Share & Discuss... Personal Interactions...

A friend posted a Vlog on his FaceBook page the other day about the Ferguson situation. While I didn't agree with most of what he said, I appreciated that he had an opinion and was urging his friends to express theirs. I have maintained that I would never do such, as a lot of times these things get way off topic and seem more like a forum for racist ideas, sexist rants and hate-speech, none of which do I want any part of.

After thinking for a while I decided that I can do my part in the conversation by asking folks of all races, colors and creeds to tell their own stories. What better way to help someone to understand your particular stance on related subjects is there than allowing someone to take a walk in your shoes by your own account ?

What I am asking is the following: Share whatever experience(s) you have had with the police be they good, bad or both. It's your story so be as raw or guarded as you wish and let's get the conversation(s) started. The intention is to garner understanding for and from both sides of the aisle. This is simply an attempt to help us understand each other and what we have gone through in hopes that change(s) can be made effectively. If not by us then whom? If not by now then when? My three stories will follow this sentence, yours will be captured by adding them to the comment box. All I ask is that we be respectful of each other as human beings, everyone has that right!

1) Random summer day early 80's - My first real interaction with the police was around 1982 (I was in my early teens). I had just gotten home from the REC (playing basketball) and was in the garage feeding my dog Rex, when my sister Joanie told me that a police car was in the driveway. I came inside to hear them asking my mother if she had a small light skinned son that was driving a red car earlier that day. My mother told them that she had a son that was home but, he is of a dark complexion and that he was too young to drive. As I walked in I remember one of the officers looking at me and saying "That's him right there." and grabbing my arm. I snatched it back and asked him what I was accused of when he told me hit and run. My father then told the officer not to touch me again until he spoke to me to find out if I knew anything about what they were talking about. The police didn't care at all, as far as they were concerned I could tell it to them at the station. As a Black kid in Southern Maryland a trip to the station was never to be trusted. By the time they would have finished with me (in the 80's) I would have been a suspect for every crime in a 4 state radius, at least this was my parent's thinking back in that day. So my parents held on to me for as long as they could. Despite the fact that I repeatedly told the police that I wasn't their man, despite the fact that I had an alibi, am darker than light skin and despite the fact that I didn't even know how to drive, I was handcuffed and walked down my driveway about to be put in the back of the police car when another officer pulled up and told the other officers that he knew me and my family from church and that there was no way I fit the description other than being Black. Thanks to excellent timing and a previous relationship with this officer that happened to be positive I was spared. I found out later that day that the REAL criminal had turned himself in and if you looked at the two of us side by side we would have looked as different from each other as Kid & Play did. It's worth noting that each of these PG County officers were White.

2) New Year's Eve late 80's - I was party hopping with a friend for the entire night when we decided to go to just one more spot before calling it a night. While we both had more than a few drinks, I decided that I would drive his car for him because I held my liquor better and was calmer under fire. As luck would have it, a state trooper pulled up beside us and looked into the car. As we looked back he slowly tapered off and pulled directly behind us staying there for about five miles before turning on his lights and pulling us over. As he approached the vehicle, I went into "save that ass mode", it's a mode that everyone in a precarious situation should know how to access and when to do so. Anyway, I told my boy to mess his hair up, prop his chair back and look as drunk as he possibly could without saying too much.

"Can I have your license and registration please sir?"  The officer asked, rather politely.

"Sure, what exactly did I do wrong sir?" I asked in the least defensive (most passive really) voice I could muster up.

"You seemed to be swerving when I got behind you. Have you been drinking?" He asked

"Have you ever had the pressure of driving behind an officer for five miles sir?" I asked as I handed my documents to him. "I had a couple of beers earlier and will gladly do a field sobriety test if you need me to, but as you can see my friend here had a bit too many so I need to get him home before he throws up in the car." I continued.

"Ft. Washington, you guys are quite a bit away from home, but Fort Washington is nice area. " The office said as he called in my license info.

My boy then said something that amounted to gibberish but seemed to validate my point to the officer and then it happened.

"Young man, you can learn a lot from your friend over here, don't drink more than you can handle and be respectful of yourself and those around you." The officer said to my boy Steve as he handed my back my stuff and told us to be on our way home.

We both laughed as he walked off but thanked God that we were spared for the night. It's also worth noting that Steve is Black and the officer was White.

3) Random summer day, late 90's - I lived in NW, Washington DC and was in my walkway going into my place when I heard a horn blow. I looked and saw that it was my girl Monique so I walked to the the  driver's side door as she pulled over to the side of the street so that we could talk. As I stuck my head in the window to kiss her on her cheek and be on my way an officer came zooming in, turned on her lights and started to yell at me.

"What in the fuck did you just put in her car, what did you just sell her?" The female officer said as she got out of her car and approached us with her hand on her gun.

"What?" "Are you talking to me ma'am?" I asked in shock.

"I saw you selling her drugs and throwing it in her car!" She snarled. "Ma'am, get out of your car!"

"Monique stay in your car, she's tripping and talking to the wrong dude!" I said back to her. "Do you know who I am lady? Do you know where I live? Have you ever introduced yourself to the folks on your beat? Get the fuck out of my face I ain't giving you shit! Now what?" I continued.

"Who in the hell are you talking to nigga? I'll take your stupid ass in right now!" She came back.

"Do you know officer Johns, the liaison for this district? Ask him who I am and you'll probably be reprimanded for violating my rights?" I shot back as her back up came down the street.

The officer that pulled up looked at me and said, "Mr. Crawford, is there a problem?"

"I'm good but you might need to tell your fellow officers that intimidation doesn't build the bridges to good community and police relations in the neighborhood.And while you're at it you might want to tell her that it's not professional to start off interaction with an adult by cursing at them." I finished as Officer Johns shook my hand and called off his rabid dog (that over zealous officer that had seemingly stereotyped me for having dreadlocks being Black and having the nerve to converse to a young lady while to Po-Po was around). It is worth noting that Officer Johns was White and the female officer was Black.

These are just three of my stories and I have have many, many more from Oakland, Baltimore, New Orleans and all over.

In story 1) imagine being 13 or 14, coming into the house a facing the possibility of being ripped from all that you know by being accused of something that you have no knowledge of. All I can say is that it can't help but to shape future interactions and plant seeds of distrust.

Imagine story 2) Was it my savvy that saved me or was it the fact that I was pulled over by a kind-hearted cop? Maybe it was the fact that I was from a "good neighborhood" that he was familiar with? I have no way of knowing...

Story 3) might be the most perplexing of all to me, while some would ask the question, "why would you curse at an officer?" I'd say to that once you approach a person and set a tone, that tone is set! Had she not cursed at me, a stranger to her, and disrespected me then I would not have felt the need to be so confrontational with her. Had she not put her hand on her weapon, I wouldn't have felt so trapped and in need of defending myself. Had she not predetermined that I was a criminal due to the hair on my head and the color of my skin then maybe she wouldn't have imagined that I threw drugs in my friend's car. Had officer John's not come up in a nick of time who knows what would have happened. What I do know is that when people feel trapped we go in to survival mode.

You will notice that I added the races of all officers involved with each of my stories. I did this to show that I have had varying results with all races of cops so I'm not saying that race is necessarily an issue in my cases. In fact, I'd argue that the initial interaction was the most critical element of each situation that I laid out. In 2 of the 3, the first contact or interaction that I had was positive and respectful so there was a deescalation from the very start. In the other situation there was conflict from the very start, I was cursed at and called out of my name but even in this one, the fact that I had a familiarity with one of the officers was in its self a tool for deescalation.   

I have maintained for quite some time that as a citizen (civilian) I expect to walk out into the streets and be safe. As an adult I understand the risk(s) taken by living daily. There are criminals out there that mean you and your property harm, accidents can happen and there's always nature to be wary of, that's what we signed up for. Police officers take the risk of placing themselves in harm's way everyday, that's what their job entails and I respect that greatly, but also gives them the right to use deadly force as they deem necessary. This burden carries along with it a great deal of  pressure, they have to determine how to best deescalate a situation. They have to determine, who's a threat and who's helpful. They have to get out into the community and meet folks so that these people aren't easy targets and as a result easy to dismiss as criminal and not worth a trial in the first place. By no means am I saying that the police are bad. I am however, saying that as long as situations like the ones hitting the headlines of late go unchecked or unchallenged the more likely we are to putting a segment of society in the hands of those that seem quick to judge and execute before dehumanizing and demonizing in order to justify their rash reactions and more importantly FEAR.

I can't help but be disturbed by the account of a grown man that is supposedly trained to protect and serve, a man standing 6'4 weighing 210 lbs giving an account of a child 6'4 292 lbs and saying that this man seemed like the Incredible Hulk to him as if that young man had super powers. I see it as a way to make the deceased (victim or perp depending on your side) sub human and attempt to explain, through FEAR why that ultimate decision was made in the first place. I wasn't there and have no idea what happened but I know that I don't want the situation to be repeated regardless of the color of the accused or the officer. That's my two cents, I hope that you will be kind enough to share yours with me. The only way that we will ever mend the fence is if we all talk about it for change...

Chuck Baby! Chuck Brown Memorial Park

Park Info

I can be a bit long winded, but for this entry there are very few words needed so I will keep this post short, sweet and most importantly, relevant. I took a visit to Chuck Brown Memorial Park today and was pleasantly rewarded. The park itself is immaculate, with a children's playground, tennis courts, basketball courts (glass) across the street, a bike trail and rolling hills, it really is a work of art on its own, but the job that was done on the Memorial really blew me away. It's classy, whimsical and appropriate. From the shiny, polished silver, to the pictures that seem to be alive, I think they (planning folks) really got this right, the only thing missing is an actual recording of Run Joe playing as you walk around, but I find it hard to imagine that anyone that knows his music and spirit doesn't have their own sound track of their favorite God Father songs playing in their head.

When I was in high school, back in the day, I remember playing Go Go Swing when my father walked in and quickly told me that I was singing Misty's Blues. Until then I swore I hated every and all forms of jazz, but leave it to Chuck to open my mind to something that I was unfamiliar with and make me not only open up, but love it. I imagine he had that effect on everyone that listened to his music. In fact I guess even in death he still has that effect, always the elder state's man but rocking out the youngins'. If there is anyone more deserving of a memorial, I surly have never heard of them.

 Trust me, these pictures don't do this place the justice it deserves so please go out, take the kids and a camera and check it out for yourself.

The Everything You Fear Is Fear Itself!

I needed to take this picture…

I suppose the first recollection I have is when I was about 6 or 7 years old. I would scream at the top of my lungs whenever my parents would leave me and my younger sister in the car so that they could drop in to the grocery store for a minute or two. These screams were by no means muted or normal, I would have full on fits while Joanie, my younger sister would stare at me and shake her head in both annoyance and disbelief. 

The next memory I have is from about 20 years ago. I was playing basketball at the Y, after a night of drinking and took an elbow to my neck. As I struggled back to my feet, and leaned on the wall, my whole world changed in a flash. With one elbow to the neck I was back in that back seat in my parent's car screaming at the top of my lungs not wanting to be left alone. I could see my heart beating out of my chest and felt that I was in danger. I wasn't sure of what the danger was, but I was sure that in a room full of no less than 30 grown men, I was all alone. 

Last year when I left the States to go to Dubai while sitting at the Social House, a restaurant in The Mall Of Dubai, as I ate it started to hit me. Suddenly my chest tightened, what I was hearing seemed garbled and my arms started to tingle all over. Here it is again, I'm all alone in a place that has at least 200 people in it and I'm losing it. I quickly asked for the check and left as coming up for air normally did the trick. 

Yesterday as I took on the task of taking a 60 mile bike ride, I decided I'd take a familiar trail in order assure myself that I would get it done, the only issue was that I would have to head down that trail for at least 10 more miles than I had ever been before. As I approached the very spot that would mark my new conquest it hit me. Suddenly the road closed in on me, the sky darkened, my breath quickened and my heart started beating out of my chest. As I continued on my head started to spin and I felt disoriented. I looked ahead and for the first time in 20 miles of riding for the day, I noticed that I was all alone. It was as if the world was suddenly depopulated and there I was having to fend for myself. The music in my headphones became deafening and the trees along the trail started to crowd me. I thought to myself, "my only hope is to turn around to what is familiar." I started to turn around and then it hit me. This wasn't panic, there was nothing wrong with me at all. What I was feeling was fear. I was caught in the cold grip of it and needed to break away from it in order to save myself. 

Panic attacks should be redefined as fear attacks, it's easier to combat when thought about in proper context. Trust me, in my head I am going through a list of things to define the moment at hand and help me to cope with the situation so the least of the issue is the panic. It is fear that keeps me still. It is fear that has my mind wandering. It is fear that makes me take an assesment of each of my faculties, my heart, my pulse, my breath, my vision, my hearing, my soul, my sense of abandonment and my sense of security in that moment. 

In an attempt to understand why I am haunted by the issues from time to time, I have linked the feelings that I have shared in these times to my first account, maybe the feeling of abandonment or feeling alone was the trigger in that case, maybe it's the trigger in each case. Knowing the trigger(s) is helpful to me in the defining moment as it helps me to realize that this thing can be fought and conquered if I am properly prepared. 

Fear has a crippling effect, it grabs you by the waist and holds you in place as if the only protection is to stand in place and do nothing. I'm sure of the road that I just traveled, but I have no clue of what lay ahead and after all, there could be danger, is the thought that dominates you in that moment. 

As for my ride yesterday, I'm happy to say that I continued on after realizing that the issue was the road yet to be traveled, the one unknown was the road that lay ahead. I'd traveled the road behind me more times than I cared to share, but that road ahead was full of goblins as far as I was concerned. I submit to you that the day was sunny and bright with the exception of this minute, the picture at the top was taken in that moment. It's funny, that this entire episode only lasted for about 30 seconds or so but to me and people like me, this 30 seconds seems to last for days and can strike at any moment. I wasn't going to write about this, as it is so personal, but a friend posted a video on Facebook today (the video attached) 

that was THE right thing at just THE right time. Jim Carey's video spoke to my soul and gave me another tool in which to arm myself in my childish moments. I beg you to take the time to listen to this 3 minute video and send it to a friend that may be in need. I chose a few of my favorite quotes from his speech that related to the issues that haunted me in the past and claim that today I choose Love and will never look back again. I claim victory over fear and would like to give others a chance at the same peace that came over me yesterday and was confirmed today after watching the video. "The effect you have on others is the most valuable currency there is."  "Our eyes are not viewers, they are also projectors that are running a second story over the pictures that we see in front of us all the time; Fear is writing that script."  "Choose love and don't ever let fear turn you against your playful heart." 

I'd like to thank Angela Clark for posting the video, the timing couldn't have been more suitable...

Run Go Tell That! The Grand Age Of Misinformation.....

Eggs on Windshield Hoax

At some point the world spun backwards on its own axis. It used to be that reporters, writers and the like did their due diligence before releasing a story for mass consumption but at some point that all changed. Was it pre or post 9-11? I'm not quite sure, but the one thing I do know is with the advent, accessibility and popularity of social media the age of misinformation is in full bloom.

Semen in Mayo Hoax

Social media like Facebook, Vine, Twitter and Instagram have sprouted a wave of freelance journalist, reporters and photographers. This in and of itself is useful but when the person reporting, writing and capturing pictures or video of critical moments in a bystander's life has absolutely ZERO integrity, there is a high probability that misinformation will be spread. There's also the chance that  threads of ignorance will be spewed as pious opinionated assholes give unwanted and more importantly un-researched opinions on subjects that they are just not an authority on. All this while the fears of an already overly fearful society will be realized and acted upon by the "town criers". Those that stand downtown on their soap boxes screaming "Run for the hills the end is nigh!" "Get batteries and water the world will end in 2000!" or "Dec. 21st 2013 is the end of of the Mayan Calendar, get your affairs in order !"

Crying Baby Gang Lure Hoax

The issues that I have are these:

1) Spreading misinformation makes you part of the problem.

2) Refusing to fact check makes you a non-credible source for information.

3) A failure to understand what satire is makes you an idiot that should want to stop posting.

4) Posting scandalous nonsense for likes or hits makes you desperate for attention. * They have help for that....

5) Profiting from lies and rumors make you a smut peddler.

6) Spreading fear leads to erratic behavior, control and violence.

Spider Under The Toilet Seat Hoax

At the end of the day we all do what we do for our own personal reasons and that's fine. I'm a chef, blogger, photographer, writer, cyclist, traveler and humanitarian that happens to be opinionated, but I tend to base my opinions on factual, tangible and provable information before I throw it out for consumption. The media carries out enough smoke and mirrors tactics on the public at hand (that would be you & me) so there is no need for us to follow suit with them. We should want for more and demand more from them, but that's got to start with us checking ourselves and each other first and being receptive to change once we are called out on it. Some may still ask, "What's the big deal?", the big deal is FEAR, it's controlled the masses since the beginning of time and cost lives, millions and peace. I'd much rather do my part by spreading truth and understanding.

NAACP Gives Zim Lifetime Achievement Award Satire

I have pledged that this year whenever I see a post like the examples that I have given in this article, I would do my best to research the story and post its origin so that people have both sides of the story. It may seem petty to you and some may even be offended but I have my agenda which is to hold myself, my friends and those that want to "Run Go Tell That" accountable for the things that we post and by that hold the media to a higher standard.

Ignorance & Rap (Not Hip Hop there's such a difference) 

On a separate but related note I saw several post about the damage that VH1 and its programming is doing damage and harm to Black men, women and children. I tend to agree in some ways but I have a different take on it. After all the participants aren't White people dressed in Black face acting out the parts, these niggas are actually Black, ignorant low-brows that have found a way to make money off of their "caricaturized", stereotypical ghetto azzes. We can refuse to watch those things by simply changing the channel. We can refuse to acknowledge them by not posting about them. We can refuse to allow them to profit off of the smut they peddle by avoiding their sponsored events, websites or related entities. The one thing that I know for sure is the way to make change is to take the ability to profit monetarily from a thing. Posting about these things only  brings more attention to it. *I'm sure some of you are asking "Ain't you the pot calling the kettle black as you post about these things here and now?" To that I say, I'm doing so responsibly by posting truth and an educated opinion of the things that I would like to see changed positively. I'll support anyone else in their venture to do the same but if you happen to spread misinformation I will come at your post. Please don't take it personally I just have a penchant for wanting to see more truth than lies, a need for seeing more positive than negative and a duty to spread more love than hate. 

The Misconception of Crabs In A Barrel....

The Killer Lie.....

Today on Facebook I saw this illustration along with the title The Truth. After looking at the comments that were left I was surprised by the amount of Black men and women that agreed with the caption and illustration. Being a Black man who held a different opinion I needed to analyze a few things in order to weigh in. 

While some might wonder why the rest of the world was tripping, I set out to understand why I saw things differently than everyone else on the thread and then it hit me. I felt differently because I have gone about things in a more self responsible way throughout my life. With that in mind I offer the following examples of why the thought that Blacks don't help each other is not only a misconception but a down right lie..... Let the truth be told...

In the 90's I worked as a Social Worker in Washington, DC, which at the time I thought, was my life mission. By that I mean I really loved this job and saw myself doing it forever, after all it was a noble calling. One day I had a surprise dinner party for my good friend Jason at our house. I have always been able to cook so this was the perfect time for me to showcase one of my hidden talents. To say the menu was challenging is a gross understatement, I was shucking oysters, making mignonette sauce, searing rockfish, wilting greens and making caramelized bananas with home made tequila-lime ice cream and pouring specialty drinks. To make matters more complicated I was doing all of these things by myself for twenty-five people. Talk about exhaustive.....The party went seamlessly and everything was a success. The next day my best friend Shelby Jones called me to tell me that the menu, printed for my party, was given to the Executive Chef of the Motion Picture Association. Shelby went on to tell me that the chef was not only impressed with the menu but amazed that a social worker was able to pull this off by himself and he wanted to meet me. The following day I came in to meet the chef, we talked and I was hired on the spot. Talk about life altering moments.......

In 2008 while traveling to Dallas to visit friends for the holidays I met someone that would alter my life. At the time I was a kitchen manager at Google in Mountain View California. Yep it was THAT Google and life there was great. State of the Art equipment, the best product money could buy, knowledgeable mentors and an educated customer base. This place is heaven to work in for a chef so I was a lifer as far as I was concerned. On that trip to Dallas while staying with one of my boys, I met Charles Sherrard. Charles was working in I.T. for KBR in Iraq at the time. We talked about life, had a few drinks and played cards for the rest of the night. The next morning I made breakfast for everyone  and Charles looked at me and said, "Damn man you need to bring these talents to Iraq and cook for the troops!" I was flabbergasted. Little did he or anyone else know but on Sept. 12 2001 I called Red Cross to offer my services to cook for the first responders at both the Pentagon and The Twin Towers and was rebuffed. "There's no need at this point sir!" Is what I got each time I called to ask so I let it go. I turned to him and said,"Where do I sign up?" I was on my way to Iraq less than 3 months later. While in Iraq I worked my ass off. I was never in the military or any military setting so this was culture shock. Shit, The acronyms alone sent me into a tailspin let alone the culture, but within four months I was promoted to Supervisor and three months later again promoted to Area Supervisor. I came in hungrier than anyone else there. I knew I was behind everyone else that was former military but I outpaced everyone there and as a result was rewarded time and time again. 

In 2013 while teaching culinary arts in a DC High School, I got a call from a friend that I met in Iraq. Kita Riley called to tell me that help was needed in Afghanistan and the first person that she and her husband thought of was me. "We loved the Dining Facilities you ran in Iraq and knew you would be perfect for Afghanistan if you are interested." She said. I talked to her husband RJ Riley a few weeks later for more details and within the month I received a personal phone call from the C.O.O. from Taylors Inc. "Are you ready to come to Afghanistan and turn things around Mr. Crawford?" I was asked by Mr. Murphy. I was in Kabul a week  later. 

In the late 80's me and my boy Shelby watched a tennis match on T.V. and afterwards we were hyped. We went out and decided that we would get tennis rackets and tennis balls so we could go to a local court to hit a bit and teach ourselves how to play the game. It looked easy enough to us on TV so we didn't need any damn lessons. Once we got out there we swung for the fences. I mean you would have thought we were playing baseball, home-runs a plenty and more. This had to be one of the funniest days ever. As we rounded up the balls from the neighborhood (I said home-runs, right?), I knew I would never try tennis again. We went to the grocery store and bought food for me to cook. Shelby stuck with it and is a Tennis Pro & Instructor, I on the other hand am a Chef. 

One of the facts that each example has in common is obviously that each facilitator is Black, the more important but equally relevant fact is that each situation required a certain amount of prior preparation for the door that was to be opened and/or a willingness to find a passion, work hard at it and master. It's one thing to make a great menu and impress someone based on that but I still had to go in and sell myself in order to work at MPAA. I was the one that would need to walk through the door that Charles opened up for me in order to work in Iraq but once there I would need to prove my own worth, not only to keep up his reputation but to prove my worth to the company that hired me. I was the one that would need to take my job seriously enough to warrant promotion time and time again. It was the foundation that I laid in Iraq that impressed Kita & RJ enough to think of and reach out to me that landed me in Afghanistan. The knowledge that myself and Shelby went out to play tennis together and were both so horrible in the beginning that I turned to cooking immediately, is overshadowed by the fact that he is now a tennis pro and I'm a professional chef. These are a testament to our will and intestinal fortitude. 

The point is, while people are offered help in various forms it is that person's responsibility to take it to the next level. The misconception that Blacks don't help one another is a gross misrepresentation of the truth. The issue that I have with some folks is the expectation that they are owed a hand up or hand out by someone of the same race simply because they are of that same race. That notion is ridiculous, if I give you the information that I have worked hard to attain then it should be your mission to use it wisely. No one has the time to hold your hand to make sure you are using it wisely, that's your job not mine. Once someone has blessed me with a hand, I feel as if I owe them my best foot forward out of respect for what they have done for me. I also feel the need to prove myself worthy of the chance taken and opportunity afforded. As a Black man, do I owe other Blacks the right to know all that I know? Perhaps I do but I'd say I owe that opportunity to anyone that wants to learn what I am teaching. If that person happens to be Black then kudos but if not my teaching must go on. People be they Black, White or otherwise need to understand that help is a two way street. If you are given something then payment is always required in some way or another. Payment isn't always money and it's not always directed back to the person that gave it to you in the first place. In some cases it may be paid forward, while in others it may be repaid through bettering yourself and making things easier for those around or affected by you. Whatever the case is I refuse to allow the lazy few to speak for an entire race of people. We don't owe each other because we are Black. We should want to help anyone that wants to make their lives, communities, jobs, country and world a better place for each and every one of us. Magic Johnson, Bob Johnson, Oprah Winfrey, Tyler Perry are a few great examples of how Blacks actually help each other but I guess in order to see them as great examples it might depend on your perspective. I'd say to be able to see that they continue to be successful in their fields and happen to be Black is motivation and help enough for me to want the same for myself. We are not Crabs In A Barrel.....

First Impressions Are Lasting......

Reading Time: 5 Minutes

Impressions 

The words that come out of your mouth upon a chance meeting can have a lasting effect on both the sender and the receiver. It is imperative that one put out the image that is an honest depiction of what is intended to be conveyed rather than what you think someone might want to hear. The following is a completely true story.

Have you ever heard the tale of the corny idiot & thuggish wise man? No?? Well, just sit back and allow me to share the story with you.

Ballin' @ The Y

Mac had been to the YMCA to play basketball every weekday for the last 8 years or so. The YMCA had a mixture of folks from all walks of life, blue collar to the power elite. There was always the usual crowd but there would also be out-of-towners that would come in and play. On this particular day the place was full of regulars for the first few games and then in walked a dude that no one had ever met before. He walked in with a chip on his shoulder and seemed to be kind of thuggish in appearance to the group. He had on all black and the new A.I.'s with gold chains and rings. He also stood about 6'1" tall and appeared to weigh at least 230 so he stood out to all of the guys in the gym, even though he was on the sidelines and it would be a game or two before he was able play.

Mac, the corny idiot had been on the court since he arrived. This dude was one of the better players at the Y and winning was the norm but today he was particularly dominant and the thuggish guy must have taken notice. Another win for Mac and now the two meet up on the court. "Hey man what's happening?" The new comer said to the idiot. "Ain't shit man", said the corny idiot, this was surprising as this was not something that he would normally say. Now it was time for each team to decide who will check whom in the game. "I got Shaq!", said the newcomer in a sarcastic tone. "This dude is about to get the business for that crack!", thought the comfortable local to himself. "Hey man what's your name?", said the new guy. "Mac, and yours?" said Mac. "Lawrence" the new guy continued as the game began.

The first couple of plays went off as if it was another day at the office for Mac, a spin move and a lay up, a tip in and then a quick post up and it was 3-0 Mac. The next play Lawrence took Mac straight to the basket and laid it in. A quick elbow to the ribs and another lay in and now it's 3-2. As the game went on both Mac & Lawrence developed a level of respect for each other's game so when it was over they both sat down and started to talk.

"Where are you from young man, I'm from St Louis?", said Lawrence. Mac looked at him and said, "DC man!" "So what is there to do here in DC for the weekend?" asked Lawrence. As Mac looked Lawrence up and down to assess the type of things that he thought Lawrence was sure to appreciate, he blurted out what can only be described in hindsight as a theatre of the ridiculous. "Dude there's a club on U st where there are freaks galore, trust me get there and you will walk back to the room with company if that's what you want". "There are always the strip clubs on Ga. Ave if you tryin' to see some pussy popping, they off the chain there!" "If you want a strong drink or two then Stan's is the place to hit up, chicks in there too!" Mac was too busy fronting and running off at the lips to notice that Lawrence's mouth was gaping open in disgust or that he had a wedding band on so he continued on his rant. "This city is ripe for the plucking on a Friday night if you are single man, trust me you can run up in 5 or 6 before you leave if that's what you want to do." Mac finished up. What's funny is that Mac the corny idiot was nothing like what he was suggesting. While he was fun loving he rarely went out at all let alone to any of the places that he was suggesting to a stranger. One would think that Mac of all people would be an ambassador of culture and all things other than what he was preaching to this guy that he had just met. He was a guy that would go out of town with a list of museums to hit up rather than information on where the trendy clubs were. He was also a guy that was more comfortable having conversations that ended with, "it was a pleasure meeting you, here's my email so we can keep in touch!" much more than "why don't we move this up to my room?" Suddenly Lawrence interrupted the rambling idiot from further embarrassment by asking a simple question. "What do you do for a living Mac?" While the question was so simple  and commonplace the timing made it extremely probing and liberating. "I'm a chef", shared Mac. This was the perfect redirection as the conversation steered to different types of food and Mac was able to share his passion for food and as a result for life. He went on to talk about all of the culture that DC had to offer and shared some of his favorite haunts. "There's the nice spot down the street for a quick burger", Mac shared. "The cherry blossoms are out", "museums all around the city and bike trails." Mac began to beam with a sudden comfort as he shared the things that he actually loved to do. "Now this seems more like what I hoped you'd recommend man" Lawrence said with a clever smile. "What is it that you do?" Mac asked bluntly. Lawrence answered, "Me, I'm a reverend and the MC for the National Christian Revival this week!"

It's Time For The Clippers & The NBA Players to Take A Stand By Sitting......

A Racist Just Speaking His Narrow Mind. 

I'm not much for telling grown folks how they should live or react to adversity in their lives. In fact I'm normally the one that says live and let live, but there are times when molds must be broken and if ever there was a time then this, most assuredly is it. By looking at the title and the picture above I'm sure that we all know that this is about the "shituation" in L.A. with the owner Donald Sterling.

Clips New Additions 2013-2014 Season 

Listen Please 

Audio of "alleged" Sterling remarks 

After hearing the audio of what is alleged to be Donald's remarks, I'm certainly not surprised to find out that a filthy rich, older man would hold on some of the beliefs that he grew up with, especially if it's worked for you for more than 80 years. I'm also not surprised that so many are offended by the remarks, and finally I am least surprised by the Clippers President Andy Roeser's decision to put out a statement that seems to reduce Mr. Sterling's statements as an attempt to "get even" after a bad breakup, by his former girlfriend or mistress.

It seems to me that more and more each week there is some old White man spewing remarks that would harken us all back to the good ole days. You know the days when my Black ass would be serving massa a cool mint julep in a brass cup on the big ole porch on the plantation. Here's the rub racist white guy - the good ole days were not good for everyone. The days of free labor are long gone and should stay that way. The days of "staying in one's place" is a thing of the past never to be revisited. The day of racist remarks going unchallenged is a thing of the past but the day of making one pay for the fraudulent check that their dumb asses tried to pawn  off on the rest of the world, is something that is still in question.

If you listened to the audio and are not offended, I have no issue with that but if you can do so and fail to see why others would be, then I would say you lack compassion & decency. Chances are that the majority do understand so no need to belabor that point except for to say that we should all work on helping Mr. Sterling and others like him to understand why this "good ole boy" way of thinking is harmful to the inclusive process that is supposed to be the American Way.

Seriously Dude?!?

 Andy Roeser, president of the L.A. Clippers, today issued the following statement:

“We have heard the tape on TMZ. We do not know if it is legitimate or it has been altered. We do know that the woman on the tape -- who we believe released it to TMZ -- is the defendant in a lawsuit brought by the Sterling family alleging that she embezzled more than $1.8 million, who told Mr. Sterling that she would “get even.”  Mr. Sterling is emphatic that what is reflected on that recording is not consistent with, nor does it reflect his views, beliefs or feelings. It is the antithesis of who he is, what he believes and how he has lived his life. He feels terrible that such sentiments are being attributed to him and apologizes to anyone who might have been hurt by them.  He is also upset and apologizes for sentiments attributed to him about Earvin Johnson. He has long considered Magic a friend and has only the utmost respect and admiration for him--both in terms of who he is and what he has achieved. We are investigating this matter.”

While I'm fine with the idea of a statement being made from the front office of the Clippers, I want to bring attention to the highlighted part of the statement, "Get Even", by asking a simple question directly to Mr. Roeser; Are we to give the rambling musings of a racist a pass because someone was out to "get even"? Nigga please!!!! That is a part that would have been better served being left out of the statement. It's as if saying that she was out to get him made him the racist that he appears to be or spew his racist nonsense and attempts to exonerate Sterling from his hate speech.

Russell, Ali, Brown & Jabbar

I won't go on a tirade on what should or should not be done. I won't even try to compare the social and moral stances taken by some of our athletes in the 60 & 70 to the ones that seem not to want to take a stance now. Instead I'll make a suggestion to a few groups as to what can be done by starting at the top.

• 1) The Owners should take a unified public stance and then make a unified statement justifying the stance that they have taken in order for us, the consumer to determine if it is in line with what we will continue to support. 

• 2) The Clippers should refuse take part in the playoffs until this matter is resolved. Due process is understood so getting to the bottom of this will be a priority if the owners want to get the playoff money that is needed to line their pockets. 

• 3) The NBA Players should refuse to participate in the playoffs until the owners step up and take charge of one of their own gone commando. Imagine what can be done if each of the 16 teams refused to finish the opening round of these playoffs (the most competitive opening round in the history of the playoffs) until the issue was investigated, resolved and punishment doled out. This is a league that is 80% Black so this can't all fall on the Clipper's they are a small part in the cog. There is revenue sharing so each owner gets a part of the pie so this has to be affected for change. 

• 4) The Fans should stop watching the playoffs, especially the Clippers until the issue is resolved.

• 5) The Media should refuse to cover the Clippers except for the scandal until there is resolution. There are enough people that have come on TV in waxing poetic on how appalled they are about that statements being attributed to Mr. Sterling some have even said that they are in no way surprised as these and similar statements have been whispered in the corridors of the Clippers front office since he's owned the team. I ask them; what are you willing to do to "facilitate" the change? 

A Damn Shame 

Here's why this is important to each and every one of us no matter what color, creed or gender you happen to be, this is a man that has the ability to cost lives, careers and livelihoods. This is a man that would seem just as likely to hold a woman back as much as he would a Black person. This is a man that has the audacity to think that his money holds him to an elite status where the rules are and should be applied differently for he and his power elite. This is a man that clearly seems to think he is bigger than the NBA. I remember thinking that the NBA would be boring once Jordan retired but then came Kobe. I also remember thinking that same thing again but then came Lebron then K.D and now Damian Lillard, Step Curry and others. The one thing that time as a fan has taught me is that if the game could continue on without Jordan then it damn well can do so without Donald Sterling. I get that some of the players have waited a lifetime for the moment to compete for a championship but the more pertinent issue seems to be at hand. It's time for us all to take a stand by sitting this one out. 

Boycott Sterling 2014

Update : Adam Silver has come out swinging and I am happy to once again support the NBA and now him. Adam Silver we thank you for having the courage and conviction to do what needed to be done.