From the monthly archives:

November 2009

Mr. Vilson’s Guide To Jerking a Teacher-Blogger (Unabridged, Unadulterated)

by Jose on November 30, 2009 · 9 comments

in life

Lost Highway

Lost Highway

whisperwhisperwhisperwhisperwhisper …

“Jose Vilson blogs, you know.”

Right then, I realized that, around the corner, where ed-techies and Twitterholics never venture, infrequent visitors of the web and unintentional saboteurs congregate to discuss ways of discouraging people from using the Internet. I’ve heard (and understand) many of the arguments against the power of said Internet:

“It’s too many people.”

“1s and 0s scare me.”

“Google can’t be that simple, can it?”

“When did people start booking faces?”

“Where does all my personal data go?” (Frankly, this is the only one that’s valid here.)

And time and again, I revert to my computer science degree in hopes of trying to translate the language of those of us who eat, sleep, and Facebook to those who still have a hard time finding the little button with the circle and line on it that makes the fans in the metal box go woosh. I’ve converted a few of those people into addicts that play Bejeweled in their free time, a grimy territory in its own right, but I still get the ornery feedback about that there Interwebs.

Today, I came to the realization that people may actually care and respect me, but can’t stand it when I do something that they don’t have complete control over yet, so instead of trying to understand it, they try to tarnish my name with something that’s going to lend more credibility to the next generation of workers in any field.

In this case, blogging.

If you shook when I mentioned the word, then yes, I’m talking about you. </ carlysimon>

Therefore, rather than actually show people how to constructively and honestly manage one’s Internet personality as a teacher, I’ll take a page from Wendy Day of the world-renowned Rap Coalition, who wrote a Swiftian guide to how a record executive can swindle their rap artists in lieu of developing more resources for burgeoning artists looking to make it in the industry. Here’s a 10 point plan for jerking over a teacher from becoming more technologically advanced.

10) Tell the teacher the Internet barely works in the building. Even when it does. That way, they can’t ever feel like it’s reliable even when it was upgraded a few months prior to fives times the previous speed.

9) Force them to use their district’s e-mail, knowing that the district can check their e-mail as the district sees fit.

8) Send the teacher huge files every time you e-mail them so their inboxes freeze if they don’t delete your message within the next hour.  Add a cute e-mail signature that’s contrary to everything we know about you for good measure. (Extra points for sparkles and lavendar.)

7) Only suggest closed-source resources for any development of web pages, blogs, etc. Or for that matter, get grants from companies who do exactly that. And try to sway the more advanced teachers that, while the functionalities don’t quite fit your necessities, the backgrounds are bright and cute so get over it.

6) Ask them how one opens up Word. Just one. More. Time.

5) Keep whispering stories to them about how you heard on the Faux News that some older teacher found a younger student on Facebook and did all sorts of disgusting things to them in the back staircases, documenting all their activities through that new social media site you don’t quite understand. While the stories are sparse and just get repeated time and again, it’s important to keep repeating them because the bigger the lie, the easier it is to believe.

4) Limit the amount of time one teacher can use the lab while the substitute who has nothing to do abuses the lab all throughout. For extra points, hold no one accountable when the equipment gets damaged and the once useful lab becomes a hallow shell of itself.

3) Have every slightly controversial site blocked by the Internet filter from the district, monitor the other sites that people regularly visit, and filter those, too. Especially if it’s a personal site because G-d forbid the teacher may be infected with a little knowledge.

2) Inspire fear of the Internet by telling your boss that this teacher goes home and writes about him and the school. If that doesn’t work, say he’s writing about the kids and posting pictures of them in questionable poses.

Look at that little boy smiling in front of his work. That’s a sign of sure trouble.

See? We should have never hired that thug. Look at the signs he’s throwing up with one of our kids. So what if it’s a peace sign? Only disorder can soon follow.

One of his students’ got her hand on her hip. How can we allow that in our school?

Then continue to repeat the meme at informal meetings and lunch periods to draw some negative curiosity from teachers. One might even find a picture of him on Facebook from before his teacher days actually dancing and drinking. (gasp)

1) When that last one fails, here’s what you do: make it personal.

Tell everyone that the teacher’s writing about you and you feel an allergic reaction whenever you read all the nasty things he or she has to say about you. Tell all the assistant principals all the nasty vitriol spit at you, warranted or not, and tell them you’re thinking about taking things way out of hand instead of addressing it right to the teacher. Make sure you continue to perpetuate the culture of spy games in which the one with the most secrets has the most power, and trying to knock the flashy teacher down a peg with your little not-so-secret secret.

Then again, if the teacher isn’t deterred by any of these things, it’s probably because

1) he or she has already told the whole world about their blogging habits (or hasn’t told anyone at all).

2) he or she is easily Google-able (or doesn’t show up on any search engine at all)

3) he or she has set guidelines for their Internet usage and actually says upfront what they’re about (or has none but uses a completely indiscernible pseudonym)

4) he or she has already created spaces by which anyone can access the person at his or her convenience.

and 5) already bought their independence from your ridiculousness (check their address bar for good measure).

Otherwise, if you’re someone who wants to frustrate up and coming teachers with a knack for getting the next generation of students into this new world, then follow these steps. Then again, I only have 10 steps. I think the other people who know about this not-so-secret blog have something to add right below.

Mr. Vilson, who should be on everybody’s list. Why not this one? ;-)

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Turkey, Smallpox, and the Inevitability of Just One Day For Eternal Thanks

by Jose on November 29, 2009 · 1 comment

in life

A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving

A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving

Human nature always leads us to believe that the days of yore had more promise and glimmer than they really did. We glorify the past as if present times overcomplicated living for every and any modern mainstream American family. Well, except for those disenfranchised in this country during certain periods of the calendar. We’re probably the quickest to recognize the sordid history of every and any holiday because that too matches up with our own experience in the Americas. While people throw firecrackers during July 4th, Blacks wonder when they’ll get actual equity in all institutions. While people celebrate Labor Day, Latinos and other immigrant groups wonder if they’ll ever find a path towards naturalization to continue their underpaid, over-utilized, non-union labor. While people celebrated this past weekend over turkey, stuffing, and zealotry for supposedly cost-effective early Christmas shopping, hundreds of indigenous Americans wonder whether the souls of millions of their ancestors have to wait for their histories to run through the scribes of the victor’s alleged history book.

All the while, those of many backgrounds wonder why we only have a dedicated, extended time to say thanks for the gifts we have all around us.

I’m not a fan of people trying to turn something historically negative into something positive, at least not without cleansing or dealing with the ramifications of that thing or things. However, let it be known that today, after everything I’ve seen this weekend, I’m officially happy to celebrate Thanksgiving. Yes, this comes from the very guy who only two years ago renamed this holiday Indigenous Slaughter and Genocide Day, but let me explain.

Everything I’ve learned about myself and others, the triumphs and negativity, the opportunities and shortfalls, and mainly the state of my life currently only give me hope that the road I’ve walked on leads me directly where I need to be. No minor feat on my end, I’ve kept much of this process to myself as I’ve sworn myself to secrecy about the details. It’s really easy for we pontificators, ruminators, and pseudo-psychologists to overanalyze our lives and nitpick at the unkempt and murky parts of our lives, thereby foregoing the light that calls us.

A few weeks ago, I dedicated myself to taking a step back and cleaning out some of the negativity in hopes of finding a center within myself. Now that I see it, i’ve become more energized and ready to kick butt at school. I have good family, good friends, and I can put food on the proverbial table. The same one where my now bald-headed younger brother, my mother, my stepfather, and my aunt sat with a forks and knives ready to clean up the few plates of rice and beans, turkey, pork, and Russian-style potato salad.

What’s more, the government of this land actually gave me a whole 2 days free of the hustle to pause everything and reflect like I just did.

Today, as I did a couple of days back, I give thanks for the ability to tell this all to you. Thanks.

Jose, who restarts the school year tomorrow …

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A Message from This Extraterrestrial

by Jose on November 24, 2009 · 1 comment

in life

Today, I had the distinct pleasure of going to two separate conferences: one on Black and Latino males in high schools and  the other on Blackness in America as it pertains to the release of the hardcover Black Book. In both instances, I found myself immersed in an idea that sits at the root of these conversations in whichever category or “subgroup” we consider ourselves a part of: we are human. While our conversation about humanity seems simple to the naked eye, the subjugation and misappropriation of all types of people throughout the world has everything to do with how we view each other and our capacity for moral, ethical, and human respect. In a way, the evidence for the norm of human behavior says that there’s never going to be true peace and the base nature of humans does not lend itself to tenets like love and care. On the other hand, the human populace seems to suffer precisely because of the lack of care for each other and love due to one another as a people.

After all, one of love’s primary characteristics is the ability to recognize and appreciate the next person’s humanity.

Word.

Jose, who will have notes from both panels tomorrow.

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The Doldrums

by Jose on November 23, 2009 · 5 comments

in life

Lost At Sea

Lost At Sea

She sits there, black marker in her left hand, pencil in her right, switching from one to the other like a pendulum, clocked to the rhythm of her observant teacher’s sustained looks in her general direction. Days after an extended conversation with her teacher about the merits of putting in her effort, weeks after a summer her teacher hoped might give her a little time to reflect and grow, months after an incident or two that have never really left her or any of the people involved, and approximately a year after her teacher first met this promising young lady, she’s as disinterested and disengaged as any one student the teacher’s ever taught.

He naturally blames himself. And he has every right to.

At some point, he, like everyone else whose had to confront any student far beyond their natural reach, had to come to a disappointing conclusion: one can’t reach every single child.

I came to that realization sometime my second year when the very students who I needed to reach out to had every and any excuse to excuse themselves from my class. As in most public schools across the nation, sometimes the only way to keep the student in the school is to set a much lower standard for them in hopes they catch up with the rest of the students.

Sometimes they do, and I can’t dispute that. However, some often don’t.

And you’re left wondering a few things about a school’s culture after that finally gets through to you. How detrimental is having that one student who blatantly disregards the school culture help out the rest of the students? Conversely, how much does the student care for your rules when he or she has more existential problems, ones that a free lunch can’t remedy? How much of a hit to your pride can you take when every impassioned speech, well-written lesson plan, perfect seating plan, referral for discipline and / or counseling, cross-meeting with parent / guardian / dean / fellow teachers, triumphant teacher movie viewing, and trials of multiple approaches only works for that period?

If it works at all.

Folks, I’m not saying we should completely give up hope. The 300 or so of you reading this now know I fight as hard as I humanly can. I’ve often take the ones under my wing that others consider untouchable and done a relatively good job in said situations (which is why I often get the difficult classes). I also know that much of the deliberations we go through, worrying about whether a student will eventually come around, don’t often materialize into much because oftentimes, it’s not about me or you. It’s not about whether the student is lazy, inconsiderate, raised badly, etc. The same formula that works on a similar student once may not work the next time. Even more so, you may not actually be the teacher that works for that student.

In other words, we’re human. We err. Bigtime.

Standing there as that teacher who’s slowly seeing his student crumble, I have a hard time scrambling for ideas to fully engage her since I know more than I often should. So what do I do? I continue the lesson, and keep the same standards for every child as I should. Somewhere in there, I hope she can purposely slip herself into the lesson.

Mr. Vilson, who knows he’ll learn something from Pedro Noguera tomorrow.

{ 5 comments }

Augmented Reality

by Jose on November 22, 2009 · 1 comment

in life

Heath Ledger

Heath Ledger

In the latest edition of Esquire Magazine (yes, I read Esquire, at least once a year, particularly their end of the year specials), Stephen Marche has an article entitled, “A Thousand Words About Our Culture: Aren’t We Enjoying All This Death A Little Too Much?” In it, he analyzes this idea of celebrity death, its permutations, significance, and manifestations in 2009. In general, his point is two-fold: we make celebrities in large part to celebrate their fall / death and in death, celebrities find new life.

I gave it some thought with a critical eye, and I realized just how right he was. While we may have noted more famous names dying, we also know that the names of notables recognized at any given award show won’t change by much. We so just so happened to have given each and every one more analysis.

I don’t remember much about Heath Ledger before The Dark Knight came out other than his pretty-boy charms and the buzz of his role in Brokeback Mountain, a movie I never watched. I became more intrigued by this man, not so coincidentally, when I heard about his role as The Joker in The Dark Knight and as the details of his death slowly trickled out.

Almost ironically, his role as a demented, tortured, and purposely ugly man hellbent on destroying the psyche of all around him made him most notable to a society that let the affable, incredible, and handsome actor behind the role die silently and with no one to save him before he became a tragedy. Everytime I watch The Dark Knight, I still think about the dichotomy between our culture’s dual isolation and community.

And if it can happen to Heath Ledger, it may certainly happen to any one of us, no matter what we bring to the table.

This year’s even stranger in that now we not only have 24-hour news channels highlighting every ambiguity and angle possible with people who may have had an experience with the recently deceased delivering some off-kilter and semi-unique eulogy to their sibling / friend / acquaintance / former interviewee / co-worker, we also have floods of messages from the Internet controlling our opinions and giving us different dimensions, some warranted, some not-so-much.

Now, celebrity deaths become more than events, but memes ingrained into everyone within a few feet of a keyboard.

It’s to the point where we want to have first dibs on the breaking news of failure and inevitably telling the world how they stuck by that person through their travails, whereas we take our time celebrating successes while people still live. Everyone’s a Michael Jackson fan again this year, whereas before his death, people hid. Everyone’s naming their babies Ted or Edward [Kennedy], but only nodded while his name came up for the last 20+ years. Everyone pontificates on the merits of John Hughes movies, but only caught the ones with commercial interruptions on TV.

Still ruminating over Marche’s article, my thoughts went out to those who currently sit at their deathbeds that matter to us, whether visibly or not, and I thought about how we, as a whole, could remind these folks that they matter before and after they’ve passed on. Thus, when that person passes, the procession of memories don’t pain us as much, and we get to keep those pillars of our lives exalted before our human instinct to knock those individuals down overpowers our rationale. With our impermanence so inevitable, we owe it to ourselves to do so …

Jose, who gives thanks for life daily …

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At The End of the Day [The Letters Series]

by Jose on November 18, 2009 · 1 comment

in life

This week, I’m writing a few more letters to different people, whose names shall be removed from the post, but who nonetheless are amalgamations of real characters. I won’t be mincing words this week, and in these letters, I hope to address some issues I find in education as a whole through these letters. If need be, I’ll apologize later. Actually, I probably won’t.

Barack Obama at School

Barack Obama at School

Dear Barack Obama,

It’s me again, hoping you’ll soon respond to my letters. As always, I have respect for you and what you’ve done thus far in office (most of the stuff anyways). At the very least, you’ve brought many issues into the national zeitgeist in ways only few have the power to do, particularly education. My letter comes on the heels of a Meet the Press interview with your Secretary of Education Arne Duncan in tow with Al Sharpton and Newt Gingrich. As the video plays, I found myself shaking my head at almost every assertion these men made. While I expect a shallowness over educational issues from afternoon specials and morning wake-up shows, I still don’t expect that from men who have positioned themselves as “educational gurus.”

Very little about their collective histories build confidence in me or many others in their ability to understand the intricacies of the classroom, from the pedagogy and praxis of the everyday K-12 classroom and the management of an actual school because and despite restrictions from underfunded districts to the egregious practices of college loaners and their universities and the ultra-selectivity of the economically and / or racially underprivileged into post-graduate programs. Even if these individuals have tried to make a conscious effort to discuss the numbers behind their message, they sound more like they’ve dined at the corporate line table rather than actually having thorough conversations with people on the ground.

Let’s say we actually took the socialized system of public schools and turned them all over to private corporations and “non-profits.” When the next recession hits, as capitalism is prone to do, will we finally see a bailout then? Will the government have to step in and tell these “CEOs” to take paycuts but turn their backs when they take private trips to islands for professional development? Will our children have to shred all their papers and use the remaining documents for ticker tape, too? Will some of us teachers walk out with only socks and remaining curriculum in our suitcases? Or will we have a situation akin to Major League Baseball where we’ll hire “scabs” like proferred by Teach for America in lieu of qualified teachers with masters and / or years of experience in their profession?

A big part of me gets it, too. The one thing that most people seem to agree upon is that student achievement trumps everything else when it comes to education. However, the ends doesn’t always justify the ends, especially if the ends depend on unsustainable means. When I heard “Teachers have to come into a classroom and believe that they’re going to be ready and disciplined,” it says to me that we have yet to understand the conditions in which our children grow up and how so few actually make it out of the same system we come out of. When I heard “If the schools are failing, we just won’t give them money,” it sounds like it’s a problem that’s already been happening and it’ll continue promulgating the difference between the haves and the have-nots (for that matter, the halved or the halved-not).

To wit, in New York, we had plenty of schools who received the highest rating possible from the NYC Department of Education’s grading system, an A. By plenty, I mean 77.6%. Conversely, we only had 2 schools who received an F. Now, looking at the metrics, one might think NYC has done rather well, and deserves the monies from the Race to the Top fund. At a second glance, we see just how these numbers have manipulated so many of us. Our overcrowded, underfunded, parted, and soulless edifices can’t compare to the gloss Bloomberg’s coated over his office.

But maybe asking those three to visit a very low-performing school, even with Secret Service in tow, would mess up their shine. At the end of the day, as in the beginning, sunshine doesn’t gleam on brick and mortar. Yet the new glass ones aren’t so transparent either …

Mr. Vilson, who wants nothing more than Obama to read …

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G-d Takes Care of All [The Letters Series]

by Jose on November 17, 2009 · 5 comments

in life

This week, I’m writing a few more letters to different people, whose names shall be removed from the post, but who nonetheless are amalgamations of real characters. I won’t be mincing words this week, and in these letters, I hope to address some issues I find in education as a whole through these letters. If need be, I’ll apologize later. Actually, I probably won’t.

P.S. – As a special note regarding this particular note: any immature or ridiculous comments concerning my relationships with my students will get rebuked. There’s a reason I left my last blogging environment, so let’s not take it there. Thanks.

Man's Heart

Man's Heart

Dear Student,

Tonight, I probably had one of my most humbling moments when your parent told me that the reason why you even came to school was me. At first, it took me aback because I’m always shy when it comes to these sorts of compliments. Your parent told me stories about how you gush when talking about me in school, how you show your father your math grades online after they start doubting your excellence, how you get embarrassed when you get low grades in his class, how, when you moved, you begged to stay in the school you were in because of me.

When I first thought about becoming a teacher, I knew I wouldn’t be perfect, but I tried my absolute best. Even to this day, I don’t have it as great as I’d like. You’re the good student, too. You’re one of the students I’ve relied on so thoroughly, one who actually does what’s asked without being submissive. You’ve grown so much academically and personally, and I believe in everything you do from here on out. I’ve spent more than the 45-90 minutes most teachers have spent with you because we’ve hung around after school, sometimes during lunch, on trips to the Old and New Stadium, through exam after exam.

Each instance gave me a chance to love what I do, and thus give so much of myself as the student body. While so many of us teachers believe in full detachment, and I see the value in that, when one teaches with all they’ve got, it’s HARD to not care at least a little bit. You need more than just the academic development. Much of your personal development comes from understanding that your teachers care about you, and the more your teachers care (with variation about how your teachers show that love), the more you respond in kind.

Your heartbreaks, your pain, your greatest moments, your aches, and your griefs, I’ve heard them all.

Even the time when I thought you’d move. I heard. I responded that I’d think about adopting you for a year just to keep you here. I was totally kidding and never told your mom, but in my heart-of-hearts, I totally believed I’d consider it. Hearing today that your mom heard about that and that’s why she opted to keep you in the school says a lot about my relationship with you. You could come to me for anything within my reach, and I’d make it happen.

I don’t always get to say this aloud but thank you for you. Thank you for allowing me into your life and letting me bring you more than just math. Thank you for the pride you take in this journey we’re taking until June. Thank you for being part of my G-d …

Mr. V, who had a hard time writing this without choking up …

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No Hammocks, No Papers [The Letters Series]

by Jose on November 16, 2009 · 7 comments

in life

This week, I’m writing a few more letters to different people, whose names shall be removed from the post, but who nonetheless are amalgamations of real characters. I won’t be mincing words this week, and in these letters, I hope to address some issues I find in education as a whole through these letters. If need be, I’ll apologize later. Actually, I probably won’t.

Wimpy Asks for a Bailout

Wimpy Asks for a Bailout

Dear Mr. Sleep-a-Lot,

In the smaller scheme of things, you really don’t matter as far as my work with the math department or my work with my kids. You come briskly in and briskly out, saluting the strangers in our school while the rest of us consider ourselves family, dysfunctional and all. There’s a sense that you don’t want to be here, and I fully understand. When the principal makes his presence felt around you, you’re quick to pat him on the back, tell him you’re working hard for him, and should he need anything, you’ll take care of it. When asked to come through on this promise, you fall. Flat. Hard. With no remorse.

Good luck with that.

First, I gotta say I’m annoyed with your lack of care for our students. You let them pretty much run all over you, and you almost purposefully ignore the hard work the prior teacher left up on the board just so you wouldn’t have to collect the residual class work from the students. You call them all types of names without actually knowing who they are, and call in others to help solve your discipline problems. You sit in the hallway desk reading the paper, never minding the students fighting right across from you or the loud sounds coming from the boys’ bathroom right next to you.

People throughout the district know all about your incompetence, and yet, you’re so happy to deliver your [lack of] instruction to our students who need this so desperately. It’s even worse because you have a similar background to the students we teach, so your employment under the school system is as much a swindle of your culture as it is of the area’s taxpayers’ hard-earned money. You’ve learned every trick in the book when it comes to keeping yourself afloat, and I can’t imagine you ever having been a competent teacher on any level.

The worst part is: you’re the teacher who makes veteran teachers look like the problem in education.

The ratio of excellent vets to people like you could be 234850298345 to 1, but because of you and your inability to adhere to some semblance of educational pedagogy, those other great teachers have to constantly prove their worth when they always had worth in my eyes. You’re the reason the edu-deformers have attacked the union so thoroughly. You’re the reason why some people in the new teacher programs chastised newbies who followed the veterans and create schisms between staff members. You’re the reason why edubloggers always have to go on the offensive when it comes to their own pedagogy. You’re the reason why The Simpsons had to make Mrs. Krabappel. Frankly, you’re the reason why the conversations about tenure and salary differentials exist anyways.

If it was up to me, we’d raise the years needed for tenure to 5-6 years, the average time for a teacher to leave or stay. I’d probably lower the length it takes to give a teacher “due process” to 2 years. I’d probably ask for clearer definitions of competency since 90% of all teachers in this country get satisfactory ratings throughout the year (which either means we have a lot more competence teachers than the edu-deformers admit to or the people who administer these ratings don’t always know how to measure teacher effectiveness, a discussion for another time). I’d increase the amount each school gets in their budget so they’re less tempted to cut out highly competent vets who can then mentor younger students, producing more whole school communities rather than the current schema.

Lastly, I’d have a “no hammocks, no papers” rule. Just for people like you.

I’m not saying you’re not human, and that you don’t have a family to feed, your own issues to take care of, or your life to sustain. You could have been an ambitious and idealistic teacher who fell by the wayside from a system that still fails to support teachers enough for true teacher retention.

Yet, teachers fuel the schools’ bodies, and the weakest blood vessel can disrupt the whole body of work.

No administrator would give you a U rating because you’re either too nice or they don’t want to go through a 3-year process to dismiss you thoroughly. No union member will actively fight for you because in the national scheme of things, you’re making us look bad. No student will vouch for you because you read the paper before, during, and after class.

While you’re in tune with what’s going on in the world outside of school, you’ve completely missed the boat on transforming the world inside the school for those who need it most …

Jose, who’s as pro-union as they come, but recognizes the need for change …

p.s. – In related news, check this post by Larry Ferlazzo on the myth of “teachers coming from the lowest third of graduating classes” …

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Short Notes: Day and Age (and My Radio Show Appearance)

by Jose on November 15, 2009 · 6 comments

in life

Sammy Sosa: Before

Sammy Sosa: Before

A few links:

On Friday, I was blessed to be a guest on Rise Up Radio, a program on WBAI Radio, New York City’s awesome radio station on 99.5FM. (Those of you who didn’t get to hear me on Rise Up Radio on WBAI can download the hour-long show here.) On the show, I discussed child sex acts, the 25 Chicago children arrested for their food fight, health care and the Stupak amendment, and Sammy Sosa’s skin bleaching.

While we really went into these topics, I failed to make a few points important to the topic of Sammy Sosa and why it hurt the Black and Latino community when we saw Sammy look so ghastly.

  1. Rafael Trujillo, the most famous ruler of Dominican Republic to date, advocated for white supremacy and changed the whole dynamic of race in a country with a huge African ancestry to a country where most of the darker-skinned people believe they’re “Indian-colored” even when their facial features say differently, differentiating themselves from “Blacks” (read: Haitians, who were slaughtered under Trujillo’s rule). Thus, Sammy Sosa’s color change resuscitates the ideology that pervaded the Trujillo era.
  2. This kind of stuff happened in America often, most notably with Rita Hayworth who changed her whole name, electrocuted her hairline to push it up and straight, lightened her whole skin tone entirely, and made a few other alterations to become acceptable to Hollywood … and became very successful in the process. This is the first time I’d ever known that an Afro-Latino ever went through this process, at least for non-medical reasons. We question, then, why Sammy would do that since he was already successful … at least until recently.
  3. Raquel Cepeda is mulling some of these topics herself on her blog. Check it out.

This week, I’ll be discussing my stance on a variety of educational topics. Please check it out. Let me know what you’re thinking.

Jose, who likes his skin color a lot …

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A New Moon (My First Kiss)

by Jose on November 12, 2009 · 5 comments

in life

Full Moon

Full Moon

It’s been a long time since I’ve shared any work from the Acentos workshops on Sunday. I didn’t share this at the workshop because I got shy. Yes, I have that emotion in my arsenal. Follow:

My first kiss was the sweetest “Shut the F*k Up” I’d ever gotten from the first of many curvy, sassy, infuriating, mostly-older women I’d ever met liplocked with this brotha with no way of experiencing anything like this until he traveled physically and mentally to places he never thought possible like his mother’s place of ancestry at a time when night meant white rice, prayer, a faint scent of Johnny Walker, and a new moon chillin’ with Antony Santos and a gang of friends pushing him too far to a lady six years his senior chasing him until he submitted to her will 10 years after his first Christmas where he got his first gift which made him want that gift over and over like a new moon rising right over his house …

Jose, who was reminded tonight that he was a poet, too …

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