On the Fulfillment of Dreams

So, I’ve come to the end of my undergraduate journey, and I feel obligated to say something profound. YES! YES! I DID IT! I got my Bachelors of Arts Degree in English! Okay, maybe not as deep as you might expect, but powerful nonetheless. It seems not so long ago that I embarked upon this educational odyssey, along with this public journal documenting the bulk of my hopes and aspirations. Until now, I’ve felt as though I have been playing catch-up and that finally, I am beginning. So, I have to be a little sappy and say to anyone over 30 or 40 or whatever, who desires an education, but think that it’s too late for them: it is never, ever too late. It is never too late to learn something new, or to reinvent yourself.

Never…ever.

For as by now we know that, "boldness has genius, power and magic in it."

And, while I shall continue working toward a Master’s of Arts in Literary Studies, this is the end of the online journal, Boldness, Genius, Power, Magic. And what a way to end; with the fulfillment of a goal! Thanks again for all of your support. If you've missed any posts, please go back to the beginning, and share the adventures of a non-traditional student all over again.

Singing Horn Parts, Baselines Like Thunder

While I can be just as romantic as the next woman—roses and all have their place—over the last five years, or so, I am completely jaded by music artist whose main objective is always to love me down, massage my toes, “lick me up and down ‘til I say stop,” (there was actually a song that says that), get me pregnant, take off my clothes, and well, you know the rest. Sometimes after driving home from work having my ears and sensibilities musically molested, I often want to call the DJ on my cell phone and ask if it was as good for him as it was for me, then smoke a cigarette.

Maybe it’s just me, but what happened to songs that documented what was going on in the world? Curtis Mayfield’s 1972 album “Back to the World” was essentially a commentary on men coming back from Vietnam facing the hardships of no job, dealing with the stress and memories of the horrors they’d seen in war, drug abuse encouraged by war, and even worse, coming home and learning that your woman cut out on you. His “Super Fly” soundtrack, while some say the movie glorified the life of a drug dealer, balanced if not negated that life by exposing the detriment of the drug user (“Freddy’s dead, that’s what I said”), and the lost souls of friends as in “Eddie You Should’ve Know Better”:

Eddie you should’ve know better,
Brother, you know you’re wrong,
Think of the tears and fears
You bring to your folks back home,
They say where did he go wrong, my Lord?

We all remember James Brown’s “Say it Loud, I’m Black and I’m Proud,” and in 1978 the Whispers lamented the plight of many young girls who succumbed to the streets and slick talking men,

“…a wolf in lambs clothing came,
Blew her mind and changed her ways,
And now she’s turned out…”

Or, Dion’s 1968 classic “Abraham, Martin and John”:

"Anybody here seen my old friend Martin?
Can you tell me where he's gone?
He freed lotta people but it seems the good they die young
I just looked around and he's gone".

Still, a beautiful song.

Where is our “What’s Goin’ On?” album for the 21st century? In an interview, Smokey Robinson discusses a conversation he had with Marvin Gaye about the making of that album in which Gaye reveals that it was in fact God who was writing the lyrics for that masterpiece. I believe him. Gaye’s soulful plea to “Save the Children” makes me shutter in light of the children in today’s world who are suffering needlessly.

So, where’s our Marvin Gaye?

Where’s our Parliament/Funkadelic, Chicago or Earth, Wind and Fire? Where are the bands, I mean, real bands with 20 members, two drum sets and a brass section? All you have to hear is the horn parts to songs like “Shining Star,” (Earth, Wind & Fire) or “Sir Duke,” by Stevie Wonder, and you’ll know the song before a word is sung.

So, why is it that:

“We don’t listen anymore
To baselines like thunder, and
Guttural testimonies in the midnight hour
Professing anguish for a wayward woman.
Soldiers return from war
Back to the world they thought they left behind.
No baselines for them;
Just drum machines and angry lyrics
Numbing rhythms that freeze the brain like ice.
We don’t question anymore
What goes on in the world or,
Sing horn parts, like words to the song, or
Name that tune because we’d recognize the baseline
Driving past in a ’72 Duce and a Quarter,
Lemon yellow, fuzzy dice, and gangster whitewalls,
Like, sunshine on a cloudy day”.

Before There was "Milk," There was "Philiadelphia"

A few weeks ago I finally got to see Sean Penn’s portrayal of Harvey Milk, the first openly gay rights activist and Politian who was gunned down in San Francisco in 1978. His Oscar-winning performance of the popular Milk was a stark contrast to his brooding and masculine portrayal of Jimmy Markhum in Mystic River, for which Penn also won an Oscar. But, before there was Penn as Milk, let’s not forget Tom Hank’s brilliant, 1993 portrayal of Andrew Beckett in Jonathan Demme’s Philiadelphia.
We see a youthful Hanks transform from a healthy, crackerjack attorney with a top law firm, to the withdrawn, gray shell of man who sues his employer for discrimination after discovering that Becket has AIDS. The scene where Becket (Hanks) is interpreting the opera, "La Mamma Morta" by Maria Callas, to his lawyer (played by Denzel Washington) still moves me to tears.

A Funny Thing Happened On My Way To A Job Fair...

Well, as my undergraduate career comes to a close, I'm working as an editorial intern for a local magazine. But, this time it's a paid internship; which is nice because I'm finally getting paid to do what I do best, write....although it is internship wages. Unfortunately, because of the current economy, (I'm going to assume that it's the economy and not my writing skills...okay), like so many other industries, the publishing business is hurting too, and as a result, it doesn't look as though I will get hired. Although I plan to be in graduate school this fall, I still must work. And, while I'd love to be working in the publishing business, instead of waiting and hoping for the "right" job, I am looking for the "right now" job.

Since I last HAD to look for a job, job hunting has changed a little. When I first came to the Atlanta area I was amazed at the fact that there were actual "Help Wanted" signs displayed all over the place. Of course, that was about 18 years ago. I've always prided myself on being able to find jobs rather easily, but now...whew! I have filled out at least 40 applications and have gotten ZERO responses. That's scary for someone who has worked all her life. The funny thing is, I've filled out all of these applications online. You can't just walk into a business now days, with your interview suit on and your honest face and apply for a job. The problem with Internet applications is that you literally become just another number, and you have no idea what happens to your application once it it delivered into the web sphere.

Then, there are the job fairs, which implies that it will be a free-for-all, fun, carnival-like, career grab bag, with enough jobs for everyone to leave with three. Lately though, they've become just another local tv news story, (along with apartment fires and shootings), looking more and more like cattle in their best outfits, all with a bag full of cookie-cutter resumes, being lead into perpetual lines wrapped around some convention center from hell. Everyone, it seems, is looking for a job; and the smiling recruiters with strong hand shakes who get paid to go from city to city to build up people's hopes seem suspiciously in on the conspiracy to make people actually believe that they will leave with a fulfilling and rewarding career.

So, I went to one such job fair that was actually called a "Career Fair," because of course, I don't want just a "job," I want a CAREER. And, that it was a CAREER fair for my school, made me feel like I might of really had a chance. Well, about a quarter of the recruiters were government entities, (I am too old to be a DEA agent or a Secret Service agent.) Then, there were the companies who wanted you to become a Manager Trainee. Another quarter of the companies were looking for interns, unpaid. And of course, no one was actually hiring, and in fact, if you wanted to apply, most suggested that you simply go to the website. A few actually collected resumes, but then what?

So my question this week has been: "Do you personally know someone who actually got a job as a result of a job fair?" I mean a REAL, pay the bills, the car note and buy groceries, job. Of course, if you don't have a job, you've got to go to these things when you can, because if you're hopeful, (like me), there's always that one, one hundredth of a chance that the job you want is there waiting for you, right?

A Wave of Feel Good

Don't you feel it? It's more than a moment. The world knows it. Can't you feel that we're living at a very special time in history? If you don't then you must not be living in the "now". I invite you to come from under your rock, because it is indeed the beginning of a new time, a new era. And regardless of what our personal issues are right now, we must be still and acknowledge that this is an awesome time to be alive. It is the Age of Obama.

Even more than the significance of a Black man coming to power in a country that could easily be conceived as the architect of racism, it feels like a collective confirmation of the humanity of us all. And while there are those who contend that President Obama is "bi-racial" or "mixed"; he is either a Black man by the very definition of those who determined from the beginning of this country what "Black" is, or we are all, every American, "mixed".

Witnessing President Obama's success, his self-possession and sureness, has conveyed a sense of the same in us all. It was there all along, we knew it. And now he is the collective validation of our individual faith. Moreover, the image of his strong black (and some white) family, reminds us of what has been important for us all along. His very public displays of affection for Michelle, Sasha and Malia endears us to him, and places the black family prominently in the forefront.

So in spite of labels, political, racial, or otherwise, and in spite of your fears, BE HERE NOW. This is a time to celebrate humanity, community and family. Use this historical momentum to propel your own goals and dreams. The energy is in the air, harness it in order to inspire your own ideas or motivate others. Let's ride this wave of "feel good" for as long as we can.

Goethe's Couplet Holds True

I begin this year with a reflection on why I began writing this blog. It was, in part, an effort to support and celebrate my decision to leave a job and work harder toward a lifelong dream to continue my education and earn a degree. I wanted to study literature to build a foundation for my own writing. It was also an effort to quell some anxiety I had about doing it. And it was in order to motivate me to write on a more regular basis in addition to the writing I've been doing for school, and staying connected to my own creative foundation. And now as I embark upon the last semester of my undergraduate career, there is a measure of happiness and satisfaction in knowing that there is this record, (public as it may be), of my very personal endeavor.

The economy has thrown a curve ball in my plans, so while I have two classes left to take this semester, a lack of funds (and funding) has made it imperative that I find a job. And though I haven't decided yet if the blog will proceed once I have graduated, I intend to be in graduate school come August. For having taken the GRE a second time, I am one step closer after raising my score by 150 points!

So I begin 2009 with the piece from The Scottish Himalayan Expedition,1951 by William H. Murray, in which he quotes Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe. It is most comforting and encouraging for me, and it is where I got the name for this blog. In the beginning, I wrongly credited Murray for the couplet, but in the piece, he properly credits Von Goethe. Here it is again, and I hope that you too will be as inspired by it as I am.


from The Scottish Himalayan Expedition,1951
By: W.H. Murray

Until one is committed there is hesitancy,
the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness.
Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth,
the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans:
that the moment one definitely commits oneself,then Providence moves too.
All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred.
A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favour
all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance,
which no man could have dreamt would come his way.
I have learned a deep respect for one of Goethe's couplets:'
Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.'

[Artwork is "Contemplation" by painter Marcio Melo, a Brazilian artist living in Canada.]

Happy New Year!

More than Christmas, with it's notorious shopping sprees, over-played holiday music and fruit cake, I am always considerably more giddy about the new year. I always look forward to new beginnings, starting fresh and all that jazz. This year will be extra special for me because for one thing, it is the Age of Obama. We will have our very first African American president of the United States. And if that wasn't enough, come May, I will be a college graduate; a moment I've been waiting for a long time. Here's hoping all of you have a gravity defying year.

What is the Neo-African American Aesthetic?

Since I have begun tossing this term around as though it was already a part of the literary lexicon, I thought that maybe it would behoove me to formulate an official definition, in order that others might understand what I mean when I say it. First, I should talk about how I came upon it.

Actually, it was a collaboration. A community effort. It was coined in an all black, African American Studies class on the Harlem Renaissance. It evolved.

New Black Renaissance.

New Black Aesthetic.

Neo-Black Aesthetic Movement.

I don’t remember which name came first, but Neo-African American Aesthetic (NAAA) developed from a discussion about what we personally expected from the literature and art of our people in the Age of Obama. It does, in fact, proceed from a combination of the intellectual efforts of the leaders of the Harlem Renaissance and the Black Arts Movement, in which members sought to create a black identity based on the black experience.

The Harlem Renaissance, which took place roughly from 1919-1940, was divided into two camps which became the primary debate of the movement: Art vs. Propaganda. But generally speaking, black writers during this time “shared common literary experiences,” and Sterling A. Brown lists those as: “(1) a discovery of Africa as a source for race pride, (2) a use of Negro heroes and heroic episodes from American history, (3) propaganda of protest, (4) a treatment of the Negro masses…with more understanding and less apology, and (5) franker and deeper self-revelation”.

The Black Arts Movement of the 60s and 70s, was spawn by young, politically conscious black artists who “proposed as one of its principal aims the grassroots mobilization and politicization of all black-identified people, using literature, music, dance, film and other art forms to achieve both artistic and political autonomy at any price”.

So, may I suggest, that the Neo-African American Aesthetic (NAAA) is a continuation of all these things. It is the best of both, with a 21st century awareness. It is art and propaganda reflecting the experiences of us all, the middle-class and the “low-down folks”. It is our beauty and our ugliness, however, presented in a way that is not always crass, not always proper, but always honest. It is an understanding that we no longer have to prove ourselves to be human and worthy to anyone but, each other. It is, in the Age of Obama, an understanding that “we can disagree without being disagreeable”. It is the profound declaration that who we are artistically is essentially priceless, and that no amount of money is worth selling our souls or the souls of our brothers and sisters. The Neo-African American Aesthetic (NAAA) should reflect our love of and commitment to craft, and it should always represent the apogee of our creativity, spirituality and humanity.


Source: The Handbook of African American Literature by Hazel Arnett Ervin
Artwork: John T. Scott, 1940-2007

Contemplating My Non-Traditional Time

Though this semester was supposed to be a little less stressful in order to have more time to work on my thesis, I’ve managed to incorporate History Society meetings, a fitness class three days a week, Sigma Tau Delta, and a hour between classes, twice a week, for elliptical and treadmill. My victory for the last few weeks though is that I have managed to stay consistent in my workouts. (And I’ve even lost a few inches and a few pounds!)

But, I sometimes feel like a bit of a fraud. Classmates and colleagues seem to think I have it all together, but as a non-traditional student I have to work really hard to maintain some kind of orderliness in my life. And let me tell you, even though I invested in a really good planner this semester and keep my vacuum cleaner in a visible spot, the truth is, I’m not that good when it comes to organization; that is, organizing my time, activities, studies, etc. I’m more spontaneous, and I tend to handle things as they come; is that bad? I work on class assignments according to what’s due next. And if I can get in a little house cleaning, do a couple loads of laundry, cook a meal, I feel like I’ve had a productive day. But then there are those little jobs I’ve been meaning to get to, but just haven’t had the time, like taking all my photos out of old shoe boxes and buying some of those cute little photo storage boxes to file them in.

In a recent lecture on How to Write a Research Paper, there were two words that stood out for me: Time Management. Does that mean scheduling everything? Does it include learning that in the middle of your thesis that your hard drive is dying? Does that include having to wait a half hour before someone takes an hour and a half to install a new hard drive? Does Time Management include standing in those long lines at Wal-Mart to buy a frozen dinner when you don’t have time to cook? How about chatting with your spouse about how his day at work went? How about when the garage door opener stops working?
Alas, this is the life of a non-traditional student.

The Opening of Perry Studios Prompts Some Old Questions

The opening of the Tyler Perry Studios here in Atlanta reminds me of the central debate during the Harlem Renaissance of “Art vs. Propaganda,” and how among black readers and writers, there is still a bit of a conflict surrounding what some think is real literature and “urban fiction”. During the Harlem Renaissance, “a flowering of black culture which included literature, music, painting, sculpture and politics,” there was much discussion of what African Americans should project in their art and literature. The W.E.B. DuBois camp (which included the likes of James Weldon Johnson) felt that “all art is propaganda,” and should reflect the best part of our community and uplift the race (see "Criteria of Negro Art"). The Alain Locke camp (which included Langston Hughes and Zora Neale Hurston) believed that we “must choose art and put aside propaganda,” and “choose the role of” not only “group expression,” but “free individualistic expression” as well. We’ve all heard about Richard Wright’s discontent with Zora Neale Hurston’s (and James Baldwin’s) work. He criticized her and Baldwin for not dealing with race or “the Negro problem” in their work.

So in 2008, as writers and readers, what should we be dealing with? Some might argue that during the Renaissance, when Negros were becoming new (see "The New Negro " by Alain Locke), there was a need to portray an image of ourselves that we could hold before the world as proof of our competence and desire to live equally among the human race, (mostly white America). Some might say that we shouldn’t air our dirty laundry, or show the ugly side of black life, (even today, when you’d think that the Oprah’s, Condoleezza’s and the Baracks would be proof enough of our possibilities).

I think that we are still becoming new; not so much to the world as to ourselves. And while I don’t have a problem with Omar Tyree or Zane getting paid to do what they do, I’m hoping that in my lifetime, black writers who are motivated by a true desire to master the craft of writing, building a strong literary foundation, and adhering to the standards of traditional, classic literature will encourage readers to elevate their reading expectations and experience through their work. [And, while I am more likely to see an August Wilson play than any production starring “Medea,” I applaud Perry for his determination, his success, and on being the first to build a black-owned and operated film empire.]

Of Historical Proportions

No matter how you slice it, it's just plain Historical; that a black man is accepting the nomination of a major politcal party to possibly become the president of the United States of America. I have to admit, I didn't think he'd get this far. Now, I believe that it just might happen. But, I just wonder though: remember how your grandmother or auntie used to have the photographs of Martin, John and Jesus hanging on the wall like members of the family? Will a new generation add Obama's portrait?

Look Ma', A Conference Just for Us!

It had to happen, right? That's right sistahs and brothas,now there is a conference that celebrates the growing number of African Americans using the web to publish our thoughts from politics to family photos. And why not? There's a convention for superheros, and Tupperware (I imagine). The Blogging While Brown Conference will be in Atlanta July 25-27th. (Oooo, right in my back yard, and summer school will be over!) The Electronic Village reports that there are currently 1,269 Afro-blogs, and lists them, (I'm uh...still looking for Boldness-Genius). Of the top ten black blogs it lists, the topics are politics and entertainment...(no literary or personal journals in the top ten). But that's okay, it's an international conference for people of color and they also have a uh, a blog! So, if you're Blogging While Brown you may want to come on down to Hotlanta; it looks like it could be fun. But you'd better hurry, registration ends July 14th!

Funerals for Us Tree Huggers

Though in my old age I am becoming increasingly practical about my ultimate demise, admittedly, even for me just the sight of a casket can evoke the heebie jeebies. But let's face it folks, while death and dying is something we all hate to think about, one thing's for sure: you can't get out of this life alive. If you are not quite comfortable with the very commercial (and unnatural)way in which we bury our dead, or you're confused about the funeral industry, or even if you're simply concerned about the environment, this might make for an interesting and enlightening read. This article by Brendan Kiley of Newsweek talks about the possibilities of a "green burial" for those of us who are not Muslim, but also may not want our bodies preserved (with the help of embalming fluid) through the year 3052.

My London Dream Comes to an End

Bayswater

Well, I've been home for just over a week now, and it's time to get back to reality; no more petite custard tarts from the sweet, little Portuguese baker on the corner, no more Tube hopping in the middle of the night, no more imagining Mrs. Dalloway strolling down Bond Street with a bouquet of flowers.

Now, it's time for summer school, and maybe a gig in the Office of Student Affairs. Now, I really begin my countdown to graduation, which includes preparing to take the GRE at the end of the summer. My course loads will be a little lighter from here on out. Two classes this summer will include Gender and Sexuality in LIterature and finally, African American LIterature to 1850. I saved African American Literatures for my last year, because I know I already enjoy it, and I wanted to be able to focus on something I really loved. (As opposed to being stressed out about something that doesn't hold my interest as much.)

So, fare thee well, my London....maybe we'll meet again.

What Is Soul-II-Soul?

There is about four or five weeks left in the semester, and I have three 8-10 page papers to finish within that time; and not-to-mention a Spanish composition, presentation and final exam. And, while I was poised to graduate in December, I’ve decided to stick around for one more semester to try and increase my grade point average just a little more. I’m hoping this move will help increase my chances for getting into graduate school. Besides, I’ve been pursuing a college degree since I graduated in 1981, one more semester won’t kill me…(or at least, I hope it won’t).

So, meanwhile, I’m thinking about my trip to London coming up in May, and wondering how I should spend my free time while I’m there. For this two-week trip, I’ll receive three semester hours, so tours, theatre, reading a novel, and some class time will count as course work. But, evenings and weekends we’ll be on our own. One of those weekends, I’m certain will be spent in Paris (or possibly Venice but, I’d prefer Paris). And, I’ve been online checking out jazz spots: Jazz Café, 606 Club and maybe Spitz. And, then I got to thinking, wouldn’t it be cool to be able to see Jazzie B and Soul-2-Soul perform in some, cozy joint in London?

And, whatever happened to Soul-2-Soul anyway? And, Caron Wheeler…and Carl McIntosh with Loose Ends? Y'all remember "Keep on Moving", Wheeler's "I Adore You", and "Hangin' On a String".

This is why I love the internet. It turns out that all three of these 80’s, British R&B hipsters have MySpace pages. And, though I don’t think Loose Ends is still performing (hit me up, if you know different), it just so happens that Jazzie B will be performing at Jazz Café twice while I’m in London town. If I can make that set, it alone might just be worth the trip.

Studying Slave Narratives

Since my academic focus is beginning to narrow down to 19th century African American Literature, it is impossible to avoid reading some of the many slave narratives which often document relationships between masters and slaves with amazing clarity. As a citizen of the 21st century, it is sometimes frustrating to witness these affiliations, from the safety and comfort of my livingroom, knowing and believing slavery to be only a cruel and injust system inflicted upon people just like me, for profit and sport, to the benefit of others. It is bewildering while reading these narratives when some of the individuals, in spite of the cruelty they have been subjected to, still find that they feel much affection for their former masters. In the narrative Behind the Scenes or Thirty Years a Slave and Four Years in the White House, Elizabeth Keckley, former dressmaker to Mary Lincoln remarked,

"how warm is the attachment between master and slave."

I could understand the attactment a master would have, as a slave performed those duties that I wish I had someone to do for me at times. But, a slaves' attachment to a master? I don't quite get it, nor do I think I ever will. Upon a long awaited visit to her former master after the Civil War, Keckley goes on to say,

"Could my friends of the North have seen that meeting, they would never have doubted again that the mistress had any affection for her former slave."

In spite of my own mistrust (well founded, I think), still there is something for us all to learn in these narratives which often bring to the forefront the human interest aspects of slavery.

A New Year, A New Semester

Next week begins the final year into my quest for a Bachelors degree, a semester that will be at the least engaging, if not arduous. I chose to forgo my gig in the President’s Office, and instead take on an 18 hour load which includes an internship with a literary journal. I will also be doing a directed research for which I created the syllabus. (I’ll talk about that in the next post.) I actually only have classroom time for my four other courses which includes fourth semester Spanish, Renaissance Literature, African American Literature before 1850, and a Contemporary Literature course. And, because I’m not working in an office everyday, I can revert to the comfort and ease of wearing jeans and tennis shoes to school again, ah….

I’m excited about this New Year, because for the first time since I first pursued a college education many, many years ago, I am actually beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel; my goal of continuing my studies and building a foundation for a writing career is conceivably in my reach.

I watched the movie The Hours again for the second time. And while I always thought it was a very good movie, and knew it had something to do with the writer Virginia Woolf, I now know and believe that if you have never read Mrs. Dalloway, you really haven't seen The Hours. The homosexual inlay become not just obvious, but pertinent, and the thread of mental instability provoked by societal expectations and the status quo become another character in the story. If you've read the book, then you should enjoy this story. If you've enjoyed the movie, but couldn't quite make all the connections, the book will make everything clearer.

Semester Reflection

Virginia WoolfThe Thanksgiving holiday is a good time to begin reflecting over the current school semester. It’s the point where you’ve become progressively sick of school, but still schizophrenically looking forward to a fresh start in the coming semester. It’s also a good time to catch up on upcoming assignments, journaling, housecleaning, and oh yeah… blogging.

Now that I’m looking forward to my trip to London next May, I’ve been thinking a lot about the British Literature classes I’ve taken and the Brit Lit that I’ve read, including the Postcolonial stuff. I wasn’t expecting to like Shakespeare, or Milton, or Emily Bronte, but I’m really enjoying the wonderful connections and segues into early American Literature (for example the John Locke stuff), the similarities in subject matter and issues of the Victorian era on both sides of the pond, particularly in terms of the value of women and Africans in society. I love imagining that Bronte might of had a different ending in mind in Wuthering Heights where Catherine didn’t have to redeem herself by acquiescing to the idea of an “angel in the house”. And I’m totally into that scattered, fragmented narrative that Virginia Woolf uses in Mrs. Dalloway to reflect the alienation of individuals in a society that can’t talk to the people closest to them, and that delicate line of “Proportion” between the sane and the insane. Mrs. Dalloway uses that "stream of consciousness narrative technique" that is indicative of twentieth century literature; a quintessential Modernist work.

But, there’s this guy in my class…we’ll call him Jerry. Jerry absolutely doesn’t get it. He doesn’t like fiction, regarding it as “just a bunch of made up stuff that doesn’t make sense”. He only took the class to fill an English requirement, and Brit Lit was the only thing that fit into his schedule. I guess I should point out that Jer’ is some kind of technical major, and in a way I understand. I felt a similar isolation in a math class involving assigning equations to lines on a graph…((ugh)). But, I think Jer’ needs an attitude adjustment. I think literature, fiction can teach us a lot about societies and eras in our history through the lives of ordinary people. I don’t think it matters whether the character in the story is “a real person” or not. All of the values, beliefs, ideas, desires, dreams, etc. of the person who wrote the story are reflected in every aspect of a narrative; even if it’s not autobiographical. And that is real.

So Jer’, free your mind; consider the possibilities, breath…breath…breath…

First Presentation Now Just a Memory

The Southern Women's Writer's Conference has come to a close, and my first presentation was very successful. It was a small conference, so all that stressing I did over my little paper was for nothing. The Berry College community (about one and a half hours north of Atlanta) was very welcoming and the campus was beautiful, idyllic even. But, my most memorable moment at the conference was...no, not my presentation. It was meeting Ms. Vertamae Grosvner. She spoke at one of the lunches, but while I walking accross the scenic campus, I heard that distinct Gullah accent asking for directions to the dinning hall. She was radiant and hip and I just had to introduce myself. Poet, actress, culinary anthropologist, and writer Vertamae Grosvenor is the reason I know how to cook rice ("properly" she added). She also had a featured role in Julie Dash's Daughters of the Dust (one of my most favorite movies), on which she was a language consultant.