Brother Author Aaron McGruder wrote:
And I was very aware of how valuable that little piece of real estate in the newspapers had become when
the so-called free press lost their minds and started censoring themselves. I knew on that tragic day
that more tragic days were to follow, and I made the decision that I would use my little space to scream
out louder against the great injustices the United States government was about to unleash upon the planet.
From the foreword of a Right to Be Hostile
His agenda was clear, and he used he pen to shape his agenda.
Meet Huey,
"Oppressors, run and hide! Fear the arrival of the Righteous! I, Huey Freeman, represent your darkest fear. I am a black freedom fighter! My knowledge of self shines boldly in the face of the beast."
p. 14 of a Right to Be Hostile
You will create a young agenda builder - young philosopher, young artist, young activist, young community worker, young poet, young dancer, young talker, young athlete, young politician, young ???? - who is keenly focused on some issue.
You will work with other Brother Authors to describe three events with your young agenda builder centralized in each event.
I am so looking forward to meet your young characters.
Spiking Minds
ReplyDeleteAt the daycare center 3:30 Pm
Reginald: You children will fail in life. You waste your time spitting and crying, you’ll never amount to anything that way.
3 Babies: bllahhh ga goo gaa? Gibbbbb!
Reginald: ..Retards
Later that day at the retirement home 5:24Pm
Reginald: Old man your existence is useless if all you do is sit there and wallow in your own experience.
Old man: But I can’t move.
Reginald: Useless I say! You’re not even trying to move. Old men are the wiser with willpower.
Old man: ….
Even later that day at the neighborhood park 7:36 Pm
Reginald: You teenagers are foolish all you do is smoke weed and listen to angry music and act stupid. Get your lives together.
Teenager 1: Who is that kid?
Teenager 2: Who?
Reginald: Neanderthals.
Even more later that day in front of the police station 8:45 Pm
Police officer: Aren’t you that kid that’s been harassing the elderly and the daycare?
Reginald: Mr. Police officer you suck! Do your job once in awhile, there is so much crime that could be avoided if you actually cared about serving and protecting! Police shouldn’t get paid. Do your job.
Police Officer: Ok, ill do my job. You’re under arrest for disturbing the peace and for verbally assaulting an officer of the law.
Reginald: Oh shit.
Reginald: Wait you cant arrest me, I’m eight years old you idiot. I know my rights.
Police officer: Very well im going to call your mother.
Reginald: ….This never happened
Police officer: Yeah.
Even more later then later that day Reginald arrives home 9:40PM
Mom: What’s wrong sweetie you look disappointed.
Reginald: Another failed revolution attempt mom.
Mom: Boy didn’t I tell you to leave the police alone?
Reginald: Yes mom…
The Lazy Life Of Reginald
ReplyDelete(Skit)
Reginald: Are you okay Mr. President?
Barack Obama: LEAVE ME ALONE!
Reginald: Yes sir. (Reginald goes to the bathroom and stands next to a familiar man at the urinal)
Man: How is he doing? (Wesley looks over)
Reginald: You’re President Bush! Oh well. (Reginald washes his hands and leaves the bathroom)
Reginald: You’ll never believe who I saw, Mr. President.
Barack Obama: Who?
Reginald: An old friend.
Barack Obama: Look, Reginald, sorry for snapping at you earlier, I'm just tired of all these haters.
Reginald: But you should love your haters.
Barack Obama: Not these, Reginald. Not these.
The protector Episode 1
ReplyDeleteI am walking down the street to school. “First day and your already late state your name” the teacher says. “You need not to know me by name but by my actions” “ what is your name or leave” “Zayford Hayes but you better call me Zay Zai” “Ill call you what I please Zay Zai” “I thought so” Zayford whispers to himself. “the teacher yells “take your bag off now!” “No” “Yes” “are you gone make me” and without a chance for the teacher to respond Zayford says “ I thought so, I do what I want, and I don’t want to listen to you” “why not” “cuz use a bitch!”
“What’s up De’Angelo?”
ReplyDeleteI kept walking.
“Dee, wait up!”
I didn’t. I kept walking.
“What’s the matter with you dude? What’s up?”
I finally stopped walking. I grew tired of listening to him asking me what’s up when it should’ve been obvious this whole time. So, I turned around, looked him in the eyes, and told him.
“What’s up with me? What’s up with ME? I’m livin’ with my eyes and ears open. I try and look in the mirror everyday and figure out why I can live this long and most of my brothers can’t. I stay up every night trying to figure out this dark but true theory. Why do we die at an early age? We need an agenda. Either it’s that or gang-bang. I preach this all the time but still no one listens to me. Quit asking me what’s up. You should already know. What’s up with you, brother?”
This young brother seemed to be shocked, dazed, and unfortunately what I feared most, confused. They say curiosity killed the cat. But confusion murders the brothers of our nation. I walked toward my class, knowing my preaching and knowledge once again gone to waste.
The Short Story of De’Angelo Longlife
ReplyDeleteWalking back to the car I think about the stressed out black males who carry guns and the bullets takes lives. Placing the key in the lock I feel my stomach tighten. I see my little brother down the street talking to some older kids who look closer to my age than his. “Hey Percy get over here!” After a few moments he started running back to my car. For a second me and the one of the kids Percy was talking to made eye contact and neither one of us looked way until Percy was in the car. Pulling out of the tight parking space between the Cadillac and the escalade I ask Percy a question.
“Who was that?” I ask seriously.
“Some friends” says Percy arrogantly.
“I don’t want to ever see you around those dudes again.”
“But I was just”-
“No I wont let you end up like Darnel you hear me!”
The rest of the car ride home was silent. Percy sat in the back seat looking out at the fading sun. It was dusk now. School just began and the short days of fall had begun.
As we pull into the drive way Percy jumps out before we stop the car. I put the car in park and I realized Percy forgot to get his backpack in the backseat. Picking it up something told me to look inside. Opening the zipper my worst fears became he real. Percy had a gun.
The Short Story of De’Angelo Longlife
ReplyDeleteSkiiiirrtttt! My tires scrape against the pavement with grave force, resisting the forward momentum that desires to crash me into the mini coop stopped in a haste in order not to run the red light. I look at the lady in the mini coop crazy as I slid to the side of the diminutive rode. As I pull into the tight parking spot between a red Escalade, with the temporary license plate still attached, and a golden Cadillac with twenty four inch rims and white interior I look out my side view mirror that’s barely hanging on to my rickety car. My eyes followed a shadow that looked familiar to my squinting eyes. The sun the reflected against my mirrored impeded my already uneasy vision. As I regained my sight I focused in and saw a visual of my friend Nelson Underwood.
To my astonishment I saw him standing outside my barbershop. Pacing back in forth placing, his hands placed sloppily on both sides of his head, clinching and strangling each strand of hair extending one inch from his rounded head. I beckoned to him from across the street out the window of my car. “Aye Nel!” He looked up and around all paranoid not realizing that it was a friendly voice that desired his attention. “Aye Nel,” I screamed again, this time I did so as I got out the car. I caught his worrisome eyes and said, “Hold up.”
I walked across the hectic street and a caught up with him. “Hey what’s up? You Seem bothered.”
“De’Angelo that’s to say the least,” he said as his eyes fell to the ground and bounced back up to mine.
“What’s wrong,” I inquired.
“I need protection.”
“What you mean.”
“You know what I mean boy. A gun kid.”
I soon became anxious, “Why you need that.”
“Man, the Bloods think I killed that kid Hank. I don’t even know that kid man.”
“Than why they think that bro?” I embraced him by placing my hand on his trembling shoulder, hoping to summon his nerves.
“I don’t know. I think someone trying to get me back from beating up Mack.”
“You know this isn’t the right thing to do, right?”
“Yea, I know but ain’t got no choice. I got to be armed and strapped ready for battle. Ain’t no nigga go catch this warrior slippin'.”
“You say you’re a warrior. Well if that’s true where’s your bravery, your honor. Does having a gun give you these things?”
“Man, I don’t know. But-.”
I interrupted him, “No it doesn’t. These things make you now and the time is now to reach for manhood and grab hold of it with your lasso of hope. Be the man your mom wants you to be. Be the man Martin Luther King would want us to be. Strong and resilient we should be as a race. Strong enough to stand up and love. Resilient enough to persevere and resist the temptation of the gun and in turn relinquish deaths hold.”
He broke down in bounteous amounts of tears. “Thank you D for saving me from making this dreadful mistake. You are my savior.”
The protector Episode 1
ReplyDeleteA young black boy walking down the street to school.
Teacher: “First day and your already late, state your name.”
Zay: “You need not to know me by name but by my actions”
Teacher: “ what is your name or leave”
Zay: “Zayford Hayes but you better call me Zay Zai.”
Teacher: “Ill call you what I please Zay Zai” “I thought so” Zayford whispers to himself.
Teacher: “take your bag off now!”
Zay: “No,”
Teacher: “Yes,”
Zay: “are you gone make me” and without a chance for the teacher to respond Zayford says, “ I thought so, I do what I want, and I don’t want to listen to you”
Teacher: “why not”
Zay: “cuz use a bitch!”
Pretty Boy Johnny Saves Hip Hop
ReplyDeletePretty Boy Johnny walked up to the house. From inside he could hear the music blaring. And it made him sick to his stomach, in more ways than usual today. Today in music theory class they learned about the notes, rhythm, and steps of music. Johnny has always had a passion for music. From Mozart, to Drake the new rap artist of 2009. Rap is not what it use to be. And no one can even try to get Pretty Boy Johnny to think so. He has been on this wild hunt for great music, and better artists. But his search has been going horrible. In the music industry good music has been put on the back burner to simmer. All while this “rap” has been put on the highest flame to cook real fast. No one understands why Pretty Boy Johnny has no hip hop on his IPod or why rap is not even in his vocabulary.
“Man people believe that since I’m half white and half black that it’s the reason I won’t listen to rap.” Says PBJ. “Well man, I don’t understand you either. Ahhah man you are wild but what you going to do? Ahhah I know, you gone be the savior of hip hop? WOW!” PB Mari replies. PB Mari and PBJ have been great friends since high school. PBJ suddenly replies “You know what bro; I think that’s exactly what I am going to do. I am going to save hip hop. I’m going to bring it back with flavor, self, hope, and greatness.
If Hip Hop Is Dead
ReplyDelete“PBJ, PBJ, PBJ,” “all the ladies all the ladies, all the ladies in the house, say ahh,” “ I just want to say thank ya’ll and as much as I would love to stay with ya’ll tonight I have to go but I want ya’ll to know I love ya’ll!” “Be safe and don’t drink and drive!” After the concert Pretty Boy Johnny had got inside of his limo and called his mother. “Mom my concert was awesome, I am the greatest.” “I always knew you could do it baby, but I will call you back later love” his mom replies. “K mom bye.” Pretty Boy Johnny got a phone call from an unknown number but for some reason he decides too answer; “hello, who is this?” “Pretty Boy Johnny, this is PB Mari. I just wanted too let you know you rap about the issues and what’s going on; and you are the greatest artist ever frat. I knew you would be so when we were still in college. “Thanks frat, thanks.” “Alright holla at you later, bro.”
The Protector Series
ReplyDeleteSchool Drama
I fell tired caring this heavy book bag on the street everyday of my life. But it’s worth it, because what I got in this bag is greatest thing known to man.
“There goes the bus” I said to my self.
I got on the bus kids laughing at me at my bag because I never take it off. All of them wonder what’s in the bag, but I never tell them it’s a secret. One kid told to me,
“I give you five dollars just to see what’s in your bag.”
“NO! In this bag is valuable more then five dollars.” I said.
“Hey! Zay sit over here next to me” Tasha said.
Tasha is one of my closes friends and she never ask about my bag she think it’s a fashion statement. I had chat with her on bus until stop at the school. I was on time for as usually I am the teacher had told me to
“Take off the bag”
“I said I have to keep it at my desk”
“Why?” she said
“I don’t trust anybody” I said
The teacher is like whatever we went on with our class. Later on after school kids tried to jump I to see what was in my book bag. I ran as fast as I can. They catch up with me because the heavy book bag is slowing me down. They tried to take off the book bag, so I fought my way from them luckily one of the teachers came and told them to,
“Stop it or its detention!”
I walk home with a sweat of my forehead and said that was close.
Blake Blackburn's Inspirational Journey's
ReplyDelete"Whack" The girl slaps me so hard that I picture having my black slapped off and waking up white. "Dang girl what's wrong with you" I say after checking my self to see if I'm still black.
"You know better than two speak up like that Blake" she replies. Her caramel skin radiates warmth and comfort and although her smack hurts she feels compassionate for me as though she really worries for my safety.
"At least think about not putting your name on the board"
I laugh reminiscing thinking of how I covered the gym floor with a board reading Black Power. The principal of the U Of C college would have expelled me but he couldn't risk losing one of its most giving sponsors, my parents, they have pretty much gotten me out of everything.
"It's cool Terry, I'm okay." I try to soothe her but she is obviously pissed.
"Okay Terry look I'll be safe"
She's worried I mean I would be two. The old balding principle threatened jail if did anything that inspired "rebellion". I am angered at how if I speak up to speak the truth I am silenced.
They call this equal but all of those that speak up are silenced. Ha we are still caged birds in a world of open free space and when the few of us that squawk out for freedom we are have our wings cut.
"Terry, I'm sorry but I may not see you for a while. I will not allow my self to be silenced the clippers and the doubters. I will prove myself, but not for them but for my brothers so that they can in turn follow my example and realize that Black is powerful."
In the ring with Blake Blackburn Part 1
ReplyDeleteBlake Blackburn stood at the edge of the canvas, gripping the turnbuckle. The dimly lighted gym is where Blake spent most of his free time, perfecting his kickboxing skills. Sweat poured down his face, as he finished sparring with his partner, Alek. 5 minutes in the ring and Blake knocked him out, it was nothing personal, especially since he was being scouted by MKG Seattle. But his ticket to UFC was that sparring match, practically any ticket out of Chicago was one he would take. 15 years staring at the same skyline created a harsh melancholia in his life, it was time to go. One of the older looking scouts arose and tapped Blake on the ankle, trying to get his attention. He was Caucasian, with dirty blond hair covering his muscle ridden neck. Clearly, kickboxing has worn him down, all that muscle he built turned into blubber…incontrovertible blubber.
“Blake Blackburn?” he asked.
“Yes, who might you be?” Blake replied.
“Gregg Jenson, President of the Seattle branch of MKG, I’m also working as a scout today…and I hope you don’t mind if I ask for an interview.
Blake’s eyes widened, he knew he had his ticket, but he had to close the deal before he was sure.
“Sure,” he replied.
Gregg took Blake to a secluded section of the gym, clipboard in hand he walked with confidence. Gregg had taken him to the physical therapists office for the interview. A silver table was placed in the middle of the room, two of those plastic school chairs were placed on both ends. As Blake and Gregg sat down the chair squeaked under the immense pressure, clearly a sounds of dilapidation. Gregg began to jot down some notes before he started asking questions. Gregg put his pen down and hunched over the table.
In the Ring with Blake Blackburn part 2
ReplyDelete“So Blake, what inspired you to go into kickboxing?” Gregg put on a fake smile as the last word left his lips.
“Well my dad was a internationally ranked kickboxer, and he made for my family by winning several championships, so it was always my dream to follow in his footsteps.” Blake replied with a similar fake smile…just for fun.
“In the scenario that you may make it professionally, would you be able to handle publicity?” asked Gregg.
“Sure, I don’t mind being on TV, I like being on TV” Blake said smartly.
“We don’t really care for smart asses in our company, make sure you put that in check before you make it to the pros.” retorted Gregg.
Blake turned beet red, obviously embarrassed. The interview continued with questions that seemed normal, his relationship with his life with his parents, friends, and himself.
That was until he began throwing curveballs.
“As an African-American, do you feel as if you are better than your opponents?” Gregg asked.
“Ummm… I don’t think race would have anything to do with skill levels, it depends on the time you spend perfecting your skills.” said Blake.
“Really? Is that an honest answer, or are you just being a kiss up for your chance to be a big shot?” said Gregg.
“No…I’m being honest, why would you think I’m not?” asked Blake.
“Well,” chuckled Gregg
“I think you and I know that all black people like to showboat about their talents…well among many other things.”
Blake was appauled by this guy’s perception of African-Americans, no one has ever spoken to him about his race with an idea like that.
“What exactly do you mean by “other things”?” asked Blake.
“Well for starters black people always have to show how much money they have, their designer shoes, their “bling”, you know what they do, you’re one of them.
Blake stood up, anger had possessed a once happy face. “You’re one of them” he said it irked him somuch that he began to scream without a purpose.
“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN BY “THEM” HUH? WHAT DO YOU THINK THAT BECAUSE IM BLACK MEANS THAT I HAVE TO FIT TO A CERTAIN DESCRIPTION TO BE A BLACK MAN?” Blake said it with a passion fueled by the idea of himself he stood for.
“Wait…um…I didn’t mean it that way” Gregg stuttered.
“Yes you did, you’re like everyone else who keeps us to that standard, but I’m not one to support it, and I hope you know that I won’t be working for people that condemn me to stereotypes because of the color of my skin” retorted Blake.
Blake stormed out of the office, as badly as he wanted to leave the city, he wanted to do it with honor to himself and his color. There would be other opportunities, and he would surely take them.
Ba #6 Blake’s Saturday
ReplyDeleteBlake and his friend josh walk down the long Navypeir boardwalk. The sun bounced off of the lake water giving it a golden hue that made Blake wish he had brought sunglasses. Blake’s mind was clouded was clouded with images of the many black men and women homeless on the down town streets. But he would have to put that out of his mind for now. He and josh had to catch the 10:30 train it was 9:30 now Blake wasn’t too worried. The next thing on Blake’s mind was the fact that he left josh in charge of the train schedule, but he dismissed this thought aswell.
Blake and Josh got to the end of the board walk and got in a yellow taxi. “ I’ll pay for the ride this time” josh said. The taxi zoomed down the street, it was 9:45 now Blake and josh were still on time but Blake’s gut was telling him that something was wrong. It was 10:00 when Blake and Josh got to the Mettra station they walked to a bench and sat down waiting for the train. Then Blake saw something that made his stomach drop. It was a screen that said when the train would be arriving and in red letters the screen said 12:30.blake told Josh to check the train schedule again, Josh found the time with his finger and told Blake to look. Blake examined the time rolled up the paper and smacked Josh with. “ That’s the time the train will be getting us back home stupid the train left from here at 9:00.” Blake knew he should have never left Josh in charge of the train schedule.
Dear young hustla
ReplyDeleteDear young hustla try to make big things happen
Don’t sell no dummies
Really make ya sellin have a point - make dat money
You mite make alotta new friends but some of ‘em gon be fake
Don’t let anybody know how much money you make
Know whose your real friends
Find out who’s your partna in crime
Because if you ain’t got da right people wit you den you mite have a hard time
Life on da block believe you gonna be tired
If you got dat good work best believe dem fiends gonna be wired
Don’t get hooked on your own shit
Or you mite start losing money quick
You probably one of the lil niggas known on the block
But don’t let police know that you’re known for holdin them rocks
If anybody try you
All you gotta do is show them the glock
Cuz they probably gonna try you to see if u a punk but you gotta show them that you’re not
As long as you rise up above all this nonsense
Try to keep money on your conscience
To get up out the ‘hood
Money rules the world