bryanjazz

I met LeRoy Whitfield 14 years ago. It was the spring of 1991, my last year in Chicago, that city which I love so much, yet which I felt compelled to leave then as my spirit called me out and onward into new territory. LeRoy and I got to know each other pretty well that spring, yet as the summer rolled through, and fall found me heading east, we lost touch as folks sometimes do, no matter how good the times are that they share. (Well, to be honest, we had some kind of falling out, as folks often do too. LOL) What I remember most about him from that period, besides his beautiful spirit and smile, was his dream and determination to become a leading journalist, perhaps the anchor of a major broadcast.

It was several years later before we connected again. It was at an AIDS conference in Miami. He now had locks, and it wasn't until half way through dinner that we realized when and where we had known each other before(!), which, in that moment, created a deeper bond between us than that of colleagues in the field that had brought us together again. Yet, it was AIDS and its impact on our community that did shape much of our discussion and sharing, as we were both working in the field, and he was also living with HIV. One of the things that I always admired about him, was not only his passion about addressing AIDS and the Black community, but also his commitment to challenging the conventional wisdom about it. Keith Boykin has an excellent remembrance of him and links to some of his writings on his website. More than just a workaholic, LeRoy took his work very seriously.

LeRoy's spirit also moved him into new territory...he moved to New York City in 2000. His career blossomed, and he became one of the nation's leading journalists on AIDS and the black community, writing for Vibe, HIV Plus and POZ (where he served as a while as senior editor). As the epidemic continued to grow in the Black community, he continued to witness it through his writings. And our conversations often turned to "what is to be done?" as the numbers continued to rise. There were no easy answers.

LeRoy and I also shared a great passion for many other things, two in particular: a deep love for Chicago and a joy for all things Apple...as in Macintosh. We giddily connected as hard core Mac fans, appreciators of the beautiful elegance of the Mac OS. There's a certain, ok, zealousness about us Mac users that elicits joy when we find out about each other. And LeRoy and I were no recent "switchers". We prided ourselves as having been Mac users for some nearly 20 years. We shared the joy if one of us got an upgrade. From various peripherals and third-party software to the performance of Tiger on the PowerBook, we loved to talk Mac. He was an early adopter, one of the first I knew of to try things, like Bluetooth to wirelessly sync devices. I relied on him for advice on gadgetry, from hardware to software, and we loved to speculate about the future of technology, especially Macs. He was the first person I knew to get an iSight, which later enabled me to see him in live video through iChat when I was in Ghana. Waaay cool!!

As far as Chicago goes, he always profoundly missed the place. There was a way he talked about the windy city which revealed that New York, with all of its offerings, was still missing a certain something from home. There is a certain grounded, down-to-earth quality that I connected to in Chicago and which I have seen in many of those from the city; a quality which I appreciated in LeRoy. Both of us were transplants to the East Coast, however, and our last time together was up in New York this summer, in Harlem, where he had finally found (after a long search) a very nice apartment on Striver's Row -- strewn with, among other things, an extensive collection of old Wired magazines he was wondering if he should keep, LOL (and a new cordless phone...always some new gadget). It was a beautiful, sunshiny day, and he mentioned getting out more. Our conversation was mostly serious, though not somber, as we walked around Harlem and talked about the future. He shared with me his decision to get a home health aide, and the difficulty leading to it. But, he was doing fine, he said. He was enjoying Harlem, beginning to feel good about it, he said. I sensed a spiritual weariness in him, though, and resignation. I wanted there to be something I could say or do, something I could give him, to take "it" all away...

It was always a pleasure to chat with LeRoy. And even better to see him. For a string of years we would always hang out on or near his birthday. As it so happened, the annual conference which reunited us usually took place around the date. I did not attend that conference these last few years, but I would generally give him a birthday shout out. I did not call LeRoy on September 19 this year. I thought about him that day and in the weeks that followed. It's interesting how someone can be so strongly on your mind, yet you don't reach out. It's funny how someone can be so strongly on my mind, yet I don't reach out...

LeRoy Whitfield left this plane of existence on October 9, 2005.

I always saw in LeRoy so much...so much passion, so much care and concern, so much love. I always felt that his voice was so much larger than what the world was able to hear. The following quote from Charles Mingus keeps coming to mind:

Here is a piece I wrote in 1939 and I wrote it like this because I thought in 1939 I would probably get it recorded some day. But when you have to wait 30 years to get one piece played----what do you think happens to a composer who is sincere and loves to write and has to wait 30 years to have someone play a piece of his music? That was when I was energetic and wrote all the time. Music was my life. Had I been born in a different country or had I been born white, I am sure I would have expressed my ideas long ago.

Charles Mingus, referring to his composition,
“The Chill of Death” on
Let My Children Hear Music

I know there were many, many compositions in LeRoy's consciousness that were not yet brought to life. Unfortunately, we won't have the next 30 years to see them blossom.

What we do have, though, is the memory of a beautiful man, a loving spirit, who through sharing his voice touched many lives, and who through sharing himself through friendship touched many hearts. He touched my heart deeply.

Ache.

Below are a few pictures I took at the Millions More March. My own participation this year was much more ambivalent than it was 10 years ago at the Million Man March. It just didn't call to me as much as the excitement about the first march did. (My photographs aren't even inspiring, LOL. See great photos from the March at Brothalauva Cafe.) Back then, I marched with the LGBT group as we made a statement about visibility and inclusion. This year I arrived later in the afternoon (after doing some volunteer work earlier in the day) mainly to meet some friends who were already down there. The difference this year, however, was that there was supposed to be a representative of the National Black Justice Coalition (NBJC) addressing the crowd, in what would have been a major step forward in healing many of the wounds homophobia has inflicted in the Black community. What would have been...

NBJC's representative, however, Keith Boykin, was prevented from speaking at the March at the last minute...literally. There is much commentary (see, e.g., Pam's House Blend and Sex and the Second City) on Black LGBT participation in this year's March. I was just gonna post my pics, but then I had a couple of things I thought I'd share (then I went on a bit). :-) I have to disagree with Terrence's view at The Republic of T (though I usually share his political perspective) in which he concludes, as he has before,

So, why even bother trying to make inroads into black communities where we, as black gay people, are not welcome or wanted? Sometimes it turns out that home was never really home to begin with.

This notion of "coming home," which we invoke often, while excellent and poetic, I just don't think applies to most Black gays and lesbians. I think most of us have not "left home" but are integral parts of the Black community (as teachers, doctors, lawyers, business owners, etc.), working to "uplift the race" like a lot of other Black folks. Many of us, however, are home in silence, not sharing ourselves fully, for the reality of possible persecution or alienation at home is real should we choose to do so. To me, the point of a speaker at the March was not to say "We're coming home?" but rather to let folks know we are here (home), we are and always have been with you, and we always will be. (Indeed, we are you.) I think the point is telling our community "Hey, you know what, I'm working to improve our people's lives, too, so instead of bashing me because of who I love, why don't you take that energy and help me save that brother or sister on the street, or help me clean up this school, or help me teach these children over here to read." Kinda like what the theme of the March was supposed to be...only for real: unity.

This point was beautifully articulated in Keith's undelivered address:

And finally, I want you to know that we are your brothers and sons and fathers. We are your sisters and daughters and mothers. And we are your cousins and nieces and nephews as well. We cannot separate ourselves from the larger Black family because we are an integral part of the Black family. We raise our families, we send money to our nephews, and yes we sing in the choir as well.

...

When Black people were forced to sit in the back of the bus, Black gay people were forced to sit in the back of the bus. When Black people could not vote, Black lesbians could not vote. And when Black people are beaten and abused by the police, Black bisexuals are beaten and abused by the police.

We share the same goals and aspirations as the rest of the Black community, but none of us can accomplish those goals without unity and courage.
(click here for complete address)

To me, it's simply sad that the attendees did not get to hear this speech. Sad, not only because it would have been an opportunity to open up positive dialogue about inclusion and acceptance in our community, but also because the very act of blocking its delivery was an act of smallness and disunity amongst those who are our so-called leaders.

[Note: We could also use more unity within the Black LGBT/SGL community as well. I applaud and admire Keith's courage and willingness to address the gathering, standing as one voice among a million, adressing issues many find uncomfortable. And, I also applaud Cleo Manago who actually did address the gathering as a same-gender-loving man of African descent. (A label distinction which I ultimately find more divisive than useful. I'll post something about that at another time.)]

------

Maybe we should take a different approach. I think we should have had a plan to bum rush the stage if we were not allowed to address our people. I'm not talking about violence, but simply a planned and coordinated effort to get what we wanted (and which was agreed to) no matter what. Tell the press it's going to happen beforehand, and then proceed to the podium at a predetermined time. Now, perhaps folks would have gotten arrested and not allowed to speak anyway, yet as history has shown us, civil disobedience is often the only way some folks are moved. Maybe we shouldn't just turn around and go home because they tell us we can't play. We've got to stop letting a handful of bigots set the tone of the dialogue. (In fact, judging from Cleo's reflections regarding the response he recceived after giving his address, the bigots are fewer than the open hearts.) Farrakhan, himself, hinted at this in his speech (perrhaps unknowingly), when he referred to one US president who told civil rights leaders to force him to take action which he was inclined to take, because a simple request could not be granted because of the politics of those around him. If National Black Justice Coalition leaders believe, as they have stated, that Farrakhan has shifted in his position and is now open to hearing the voice of Black LGBTs, then perhaps it is time to force him to take action in that regard (whether or not his shift in position is genuine). Maybe our movement for civil rights is mired in too much civility.

It seems that a category 4 hurricane and the failure of the levee system was not enough for New Orleans to endure. As the rest of America is now learning, the city, like many other tourist destinations around the world, was one in which lots of capital and resources flowed through, but also in which the wealth, as I've mentioned before, largely benefited those other than the local inhabitants. The word "exploitation" comes to mind.

Now, in its latest scheme to destroy poor and working class Americans effort to assist in the aftermath of Katrina, House Repugnats Republicans, in their increasingly stingy attitudes and disdain for those in need, have come up with a plan for $750 million dollars in loans to the devastated areas, with the "unprecedented" contingency that the loans are not to be forgiven if the local governments fail to repay them. From the L.A. Times article on Friday:

Lawmakers Put Stringent Conditions on Federal Relief Loans
By Mary Curtius, Times Staff Writer

WASHINGTON -- In a sign of the growing backlash to rebuilding costs, lawmakers attached unprecedented strings today to legislation that would provide $750 million in federal loans for hurricane-damaged cities.

The action came just weeks after President Bush pledged to spend whatever it takes to rebuild the Gulf Coast...

Eventually, the [Louisiana] delegation was forced to accept a measure that, for the first time, explicitly forbids the federal government from forgiving the loans if state or municipal governments fail to repay them. In the past, the federal government has often forgiven all or part of such disaster relief, offered under the 1974 Stafford Act.

A crippling prospect. Keep in mind that we are talking about a region in which at least one city (New Orleans) has already laid off municipal workers, or face the prospect of doing so shortly, and face a near non-existent tax base since much of the area is uninhabitable. This, of course, will lead to a region within the United States that mirrors those of other so-called third-world nations. I guess it's a natural extension of international monetary policy within US borders. (For insight into how this policy works in the Caribbean, I highly recommend the film Life and Debt.) Contrast this federal approach with the quick promise of $20 billion to New York City after 9/11.

This is the national response to the most expensive natural disaster in US history...perhaps human history.

Choices, choices...

* (Listening to Jill Scott's, "My Petition")

Another guest post on Katrina, from my friend Audacity:

“Louisiana Goddam”

(based on the composition “Mississippi Goddamn” by Nina Simone; adaptation and additional lyrics by Audacity Audazmenté™)

Eron had Me so upset
Abu Ghraib made Me lose my rest
And everybody knows about Louisiana, goddam

Iraq has Me so upset
North Korea makes Me lose my rest
And everybody knows about Louisiana, goddam

I know U saw it
I know the experts predicted it
Now a stench is in the air
When the people couldn’t take it any longer
Governor Blanco told us to say a prayer

Florida had Me so upset
Ohio made Me lose my rest
And everybody knows about Louisiana, goddam

Gulfport had Me so upset
Biloxi made Me lose my rest
And everybody knows about New Orleans, goddam

Floodwaters rise when the levees fail
Rescues delayed to put people in jail
Buses sit in a flooded lot
Stranded people suffer: sick, hungry, thirsty, and hot

I thought this “superpower” nation was prepared
I thought the “compassionate” administration cared
But nothing’s happening; it goes on day after day
There is no action to back-up what they say
People in New Orleans starve & drown
While we’re assured aid is coming by Michael Brown

Journalists & celebrities arrive where the people wait
Showing us the bodies of those for whom it’s too late
We see it on TV, we watch the suffering continue
It turns-out the man in charge, he has no clue

Well, that’s just the problem (No clue!)
Waters are rising (No clue!)
Partisans are strategizing (No clue!)
People with no home (No clue!)
Convention center & Superdome (No clue!)
Under & overpasses (No clue!)
Officials sit on their asses (No clue!)
People forgotten (No clue!)
The bodies are rottin’ (No clue!)
Mothers are cryin’ (No clue!)
Babies are dyin’ (No clue!)

Where is the help, where is the relief
I don’t know, I don’t know
The people New Orleans suffer for nearly a week
For the rest of the Gulf Coast, the fate is just as bleak
‘Cuz everybody knows about Hurricane Katrina, goddam

Flooded streets, people on rooftops
For food & water people break into shops
But the media rather show Black men carrying TVs
They ridicule the teenage girl with boxes of Nikes

The disaster is declared poverty’s consequence
The culprit is really government’s incompetence
While wars on drugs & terrorism are fought
While new oil & weapons are sought
People pay their taxes, like U & Me
Everyone’s told they’re equal and told they’re free

This whole country is full of lies
We’re all gonna die, and die like flies
Please don’t trust them, and if they ask U to
Remember that they have no clue

And that’s just the problem (No clue!)
National Guard’s on its way (No clue!)
Red Cross will be there today (No clue!)
“Mandatory” evacuation (No clue!)
No transportation (No clue!)
Inaction by Mayor Nagin (No clue!)
Justice is forsaken (No clue!)
Lives devastated (No clue!)
Families separated (No clue!)
Pets not allowed (No clue!)
Officials scared of a Black crowd (No clue!)
Rumors reported (No clue!)
Truth distorted (No clue!)
Lies spoken (No clue!)
Promises broken (No clue!)
Why don’t they fix it?
Why don’t they save them?
I don’t know, I don’t know

U don’t have to be there when the cavalry’s sent
Just do your damn job as President
Everybody knows about Mayor Nagin
Everybody knows about Governor Blanco
Everybody knows about Director Brown
Everybody knows about Secretary Chertoff
And everybody knows about President Bush, goddam!

“Louisiana Goddam” ©2005 Audacity Audazmenté™
Based on “Mississippi Goddam” written by Nina Simone
Additional lyrics and adaptation by Audacity Audazmenté™

I think this is a pretty accurate, insightful update. Maybe someone can record it. LOL. Here is the original, in case you haven't heard it in a while, or don't know the song at all.

“Mississippi Goddam” – written & performed by Nina Simone
(1964 adlib: The name of this tune is “Mississippi Goddam” …and I mean every word of it)

Alabama’s got Me so upset
Tennessee made Me lose my rest
And everybody knows about Mississippi, goddamn

Can’t U see it
Can’t U feel it
It’s all in the air
I can’t stand the pressure much longer
Somebody say a prayer

Alabama’s got Me so upset
Tennessee made Me lose my rest
And everybody knows about Mississippi, Goddamn

(1964 adlib: This is a showtune, but the show hasn’t been written for it …yet)

Hound dogs on my trail
Schoolchildren sitting in jail
Black cat ‘cross my path
I think every day’s gonna be my last

Lord have mercy on this land of mine
We’re all gonna get it in due time
I don’t belong here, I don’t belong there
I even stopped believing in prayer

Don’t tell Me, I’ll tell U
Me & my people just about due
I’ve been there, so I know
U keep on saying “Go slow”

Well that’s just the trouble (Too slow!)
Washin’ the windows (Too slow!)
Pickin’ the cotton (Too slow!)
Just plain rotten (Too slow!)
Too damn lazy (Too slow!)
Your thinking’s crazy (Too slow!)
Where am I going, what am I doing
I don’t know, I don’t know

Just try to do your very best
Stand up; be counted with all the rest
‘Cuz everybody knows about Mississippi, goddam

(1968 adlib: I ain’t ‘bout to be “non-violent”, honey)

Picket lines, school boycotts
They try to say it’s a Communist plot
But all I want is equality
For my sister, my brother, my people, & Me

Yes, U lied to Me all these years
U told Me to wash & clean my ears
And talk real fine, just like a “lady”
And U’d stop calling Me “Sister Sadie”

This whole country is full of lies
We’re all gonna die, and die like flies
I don’t trust U anymore
U keep on saying “Go slow”
“Go slow”

But that’s just the trouble (Too slow!)
Desegregation (Too slow!)
Mass participation (Too slow!)
Unification (Too slow!)
Do things gradually (Too slow!)
Will bring more tragedy (Too slow!)
Why don’t U see it?
Why don’t U feel it?
I don’t know, I don’t know

U don’t have to live next to Me
Just give Me my equality
Everybody knows about Mississippi
Everybody knows about Alabama
Everybody knows about Mississippi, goddam!
“Mississippi Goddam” ©1964, 1993 Nina Simone

Nina Simone (1933 -2003) recorded “Mississippi Goddam” several times in her career, most notably in 1964 (included on the Philips album Nina Simone In Concert) and in 1968, recorded at a concert performed the day after Martin Luther King Jr’s assassination (included on the RCA compilation subtitled Sugar In My Bowl). The lyrics vary slightly in these different recordings. One notable lyrical addendum is from a 1983 recording of the song (available on the 1997 compilation My Baby Just Cares for Me), when Nina Simone repeats the line “Everybody knows about…”, finishing the line by interchanging a assortment of names, including Margaret Thatcher, Ronald Reagan, and Michael Jackson.

On this day (Sept 23) in 1926, John William Coltrane was born in Hamlet, NC. He would become one of the most significant and influential figures in the history of jazz.

Visit the official John Coltrane Website and learn how Alice Coltrane, John's second wife (a stellar recording artist in her own right), and his family is continuing his legacy.

Do a search on John Coltrane at allmusic.com to learn more about Coltrane's music and influence, and view his complete discography.

Here is a news story about the (now gone) Church of St. John Coltrane in San Francisco. I was fortunate enough to have attended a service at this church several years ago. It was quite a moving experience.

Do your own internet search on John Coltrane.

Or better yet, take some time today and listen to his music. If he's not in your collection, take this opportunity to add him. :-)

If you'd like a suggestion, I'd recommend Crescent, one of my favorite Coltrane albums, an awesome work with a somewhat reflective and somber mood. My pick of the tracks on the album: "Lonnie's Lamment".

One of his most popular albums is My Favorite Things, which contains a mellow and warm 14 minute version of the title track, as well as Coltrane's take on the classsic, "Summertime".

There's also, of course, the wonderfully magnificent, A Love Supreme, considered by many not only Coltrane's masterpiece, but also one of the most important records ever made.