James Harrison: Untitled

[wpvideo yxqjg7oc] What I love most about working with the younger generation is being able to learn from their honest and earnest perspectives. Listen to James as he questions color politics and understanding history within the black community.Untitled:this is supposed to be our monthbut why do we have to celebrate our historyonce a month, once a year at one timeand that's only for the ones that noticei never wanted to come off offensivebut blacks need more than just one monthto be rememberedthis is just compensationfor the one twelfth of the yearbecause we were three fifths of a personnow is that fair?i never wanted to be national tragedyor neither a national treasuryi just want to be able to lookthrough the history books andsee what we did rightbecause February isn't justnational black history monthit's national minority montha month for confederates to say,"oops, we'll do better next time."the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juicethe darker the flesh the deeper the rootsbut how far do we date back when the blackwas forced to mix with the whiteand didn't make fifty shades of greybut the next generation of house slvesand now a hard history filled with cotton ballescovering rock spires not knowingthere's a deeper meaning behind what we saylike #lightskin #darkskin wars on social mediabut really mean #houseslave vs. #fieldslaveeven rap and hip-hop is corruptedwith images of black bodiescommitting all the bank robberiescause corporate America's scandalousthat's why they still can't handle usliquor straight to my livahignorance just might kill yahpoverty just might hit chahwhile walking home from the riverit's racismbecause we are constantly being force fed liesof how one shade of slave is better than the nextbecause after two-hundred years of overflowing hatredif we don't know our rootsthen why did we leave the plantation?

James Harrison

[wpvideo vMheZDn7]Name: JamesAge: 17Hometown: Baton Rouge, La (Scotlandville)

Love Is:

Love to me isn't really a specific, defined thing.  It's something that you actually have to get through to a connection with somebody. Love and hate, you actually have to tough it through with somebody , be with somebody, with all their quirks and actually understand and work through even if you can't stand it at [some] times. It's not just about giving up, it's also about that connection that you have to have with somebody and it's not always in a positive way. [Because] some people claim that they're in love but it's always a negative relationship. So you have to have that honesty, the understanding, that respect in the relationship and you actually have to want to be with the person, for them, instead of what they have.

Black Love Project x The Baton Rouge Youth Coalition

 I was recently asked to be the Poetry Slam Coach for the Baton Rouge Youth Coalition, a non-profit that works with high achieving, low-income high school students, preparing them to succeed in their collegiate careers. I will be working with local young poets and coaching them on their writing and performance, at the end of the season our goal is to compete in All City, a nationwide poetry slam for teen poets.Out of this opportunity also comes something I've envisioned for a while and I'm pleased to announce that  Black Love Project will be working with the Baton Rouge Youth Coalition in facilitating Griot, a creative writing workshop.  The workshop is a safe space for the kids to learn and discuss music, artists and socio-political statements of the African Diaspora. They will also be able to explore and express themselves creatively. Since a goal of Black Love Project is to gather black stories from black storytellers, these workshops will be filmed in order to give light and a voice to the young, gifted and black students of Baton Rouge.Griot will be held every Saturday morning at 460 North 11th Street. Baton Rouge, Louisiana 70816If you'd like more information or know of any youth who may benefit from the Baton Rouge Youth Coalition or Griot, please contact me directly: blackloveprjct@gmail.com

Reverend Victor White II

Last night Baton Rouge's Eclectic Truth Open Mic and Poetry Slam, Forward Arts, Inc., the Poetry Alliance and the Unitarian Church of Baton Rouge held a special reading called Voices for Vic in dedication for Victor White III.If you are not aware, Victor White of New Iberia, Louisiana, died in police custody. The official report is that Victor, who was handcuffed, shot himself in the back. His autopsy shows he was shot in the chest. Victor was murdered in September 2014 and his family has yet to receive answers or justice for his death.His father, mother and fourteen year old sister were in attendance. In this age of activism and gross violence against black bodies, it is easy to be involved from a distance. So many of us have the opportunity to tweet a hashtagged name or share a link, but you never think about what happens when you are in the same room with a family who bears the burden daily.I had the chance to speak with Reverend Victor White II, Victor's father about love and his love for his son.Monique: Thank you for speaking with me, I want to ask you, in light of what has happened to your son, what does love mean to you now?Reverend White: When I think of love, I have always thought of community, I think of family and supporting one another even in a struggle. Stand with one another. Believe and hope, no matter what. When I see that, I understand what l-o-v-e is, all the way. We can get so far with that.It's all about brothers and all about sisters, it's all about being together no matter what.M: And when you think about your son and the love you have for him, what comes to mind?RW: I think about his life, when I think of love I think of his life. The life that was taken and the life that he lived. But also, realizing that he lived.  You can't demonize him. And one thing about it is that he was love, he was an example of love. Everywhere he went, he brought love. He brought us love, as a son he brought me love. So when I think about Victor, I understand what love is.

Mrs. Lois Ricard

Name: Mrs. Lois RicardHometown: St. James Parrish, LouisianaAge: 86Age You First Fell in Love: 19Love Is: Well, in those days everybody was in love with everybody.On Love: I was married at 19, in 1947. In those country towns all the families know all the other families. He told his mother he wanted to marry me. He wanted to marry me because he knew his faults, he was thrifty and I was a miser. When we would go out, we went out with families. See, we were family oriented, we could go on picnics and ride horses. There were big farms and we were very family oriented; I'm the only one living now. I never had any children.On Racism: Being in a country town, you didn't feel it because we had a bond. When you came out to town, you met them like they were your family. You went to the levee [to sit] and we didn't feel it. You knew it was there, but the [older generations], they didn't hate, they did it because it was a tradition. There was always helping going on and people shared their fruits. It wasn't integrated but all of them didn't hate because they were too giving, we had a bond.On Life: I've been blessed to be here this long and I'm anchored in my faith. I have everything a poor person could need in this world. You've got to value your youth and your knowledge. Our race needs a lot of help. If the younger ones would listen, they would have power. They don't see what's good for them, all they want to do is keep up with The Jones'. All these young girls want to be Madam Queen and ain't nobody even paying attention to you. Degrees don't mean a thing, but use your intelligence.

Mama E.

Name: Mama E.Age: 56Age You First Fell in Love: 9Hometown: Savannah, Georgia "But the spirits brought me to New Orleans, they told me they'd take care of me if I took care of them, and they have."Love Is: Love is who loves you.Mama E. was cool. She had a very fun spirit about her and large, somewhat sad eyes. We met her while in Jackson Square and learned that her father was from Benin, "My mother's people are from St. Thomas." At some point in conversation, my sister asked if she ever saw spirits, to which she replied, "Yes, I see some of our ancestors. He was standing on a corner and in chains, they were around his feet and around his neck. I asked him if there was any problem,  he asked for fruit and gin. Spirits always want gin. So I went home, ate fruit and drank gin for him." We ask if she learned his name, "Yes, it was Domi-something, it wasn't quite Dominique, but a variation. He was very tired and hungry."Side Note: I believe in spirits, so Mama E saying the spirit asked for gin, makes sense to me. When we were younger, my father, who is from Ghana, would take us outside every once in a while to perform libations. Libations, are in the most basic sense, a drink offering and what we see in the African Diaspora when drinks are poured for the deceased. There would always be a handle of gin, with roots soaking in it, to offer to the ancestors whose name he'd call. We'd all take a sip and he would pour the gin on the ground three times to share with those who came before us.

New Orleans, Louisiana

Song: It Ain't My FaultArtist: Dejan's Olympia Brass BrandWriter: Smokey Johnson and Wardell QuezergueRelease: 1964, original releaseSampled By: Silkk the Shocker, It Ain't My Fault, Charge it 2 Da Game (1998). I love that Silkk the Shocker sampled this, as it is a testament to the strong cultural influence of New Orleans.[audio http://blackloveproject.files.wordpress.com/2014/01/01-it-aint-my-fault.mp3]I was first introduced to New Orleans more than ten years ago, when my sister left Atlanta to attend Xavier University. That beautiful Crescent City, with its living culture and magical, almost spiritual pull, will always have a special place in my heart. From the music, to the food, the history and the friendly people, there is not much I don't like about New Orleans. If you choose to only visit the city to drink on Bourbon Street, you should know that you're missing out on so much.We all know the most recent history of New Orleans; the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, which exposed so much about American society and politics. My sister returned to Atlanta, at the behest of our worried African mother, leaving one hour before the only exit highway closed. Stories of friends floating on mattresses, as their homes flooded. University students and nuns (Xavier is a Catholic university) breaking into dining halls, stealing frozen dough because they had not eaten in days. The people she'd grown to know and the city she'd learned to call home were destroyed by Mother Nature and forsaken by a faulty government. Sons and daughters of this great land were called refugees and looters, and treated as such. Hurricane Katrina outed the rampant racial and socio-economic inequalities of New Orleans and America; birthed from a long standing history of infractions against black civil rights, (Solomon Northup writes of his experience of being sold in New Orleans, in his memoir 12 Years a Slave).Yet and still, that great city shines on. It shines on through the preservation of its cultural history, which cannot be said for many southern cities, that are overgrown with shiny, pretty buildings. You can hear it in the way they talk (baaaybaaay), the syncopated rhythms of every footstep that echoes of spirits past. The music and dance, the beautiful brass and percussion, buck jumping and Indian Krewes and of course, bounce music (rest peacefully, Magnolia Shorty). The food is the proof and legacy of every culture that's ever breathed there; gumbo a direct descendant of the West African okra stew I was raised on, or the beignets and coffee of European lineage. This is New Orleans, wearing the mask of a drunken city, but underneath a rebuilding and resilient one, its culture the foundation. It is a city that opens its arms to those free spirits who search for a place to call home, it is the home for those who have wandered only to be found in New Orleans, Louisiana.