rashidipedia – Page 11 – stuff rashid darden likes

Your bitter truth: Camera phone pictures are not enough.

Once upon a time there was a little black boy who won a writing contest in 1995. The Metropolitan DC Chapter of The Links, Inc., gave this boy a $300 prize for his short story “Vampires at Camp.” [Little known fact: Two characters from Birth of a Dark Nation originated in this story.] With this prize money, this boy bought a Single Lens Reflex (SLR) camera – the Nikon N6006. To his friends and family, that meant “the big camera.” All he wanted was a massive zoom.

Although there was some irony in this boy spending his prize money on tools for visual art, rather than using it on becoming a better writer, he was sure that the Links would approve of him striving to become a better artist all the way around. So, through high school, he used his camera practically everywhere he went, investing in film (!) and the cost of developing said film (!!) at the local Giant Food store.

That boy was me. I took my camera to college with me and began documenting my experiences there. I have boxes of photos from high school and college, many that I have not scanned, or I have scanned and haven’t organized them well.

By my senior year, my camera began failing and became useless. I could never afford to get it fixed, so I put it down for good. I then began using a digital point-and-shoot camera with a strong optical zoom. I lost one camera in a taxi cab, then got a similar, better one.

In 2003, around the time I became an Alpha, I got immersed in documenting fraternal life in DC, particularly at Howard, where I had become acquainted with many students and alumni through Alpha Phi Omega and Alpha Phi Alpha. Over the next six years, I took all sorts of photographs with just my little point-and-shoot camera.

2004:

2005:

2006:

2007:

2008:

And so on. I was also shooting non-Greek things, but I became well-known in the are for documenting the fraternal scene. Not only did the Hilltop newspaper use my 2005 images without my permission, I’ve had people use my images in event flyers and such.

Yes, I could watermark my images. But I choose not to. I think my work has a style that speaks for itself.

At any rate, in 2009 I asked for and was gifted with my first (and current) digital SLR camera! It is a Nikon D60 and I love it. It reminds me of my first camera, but I am pushing myself a lot further with it. Since, you know, it’s impossible to waste film with a digital camera.

Here’s how my images of the fraternal world improved with the DSLR:

2009:

2010:

2011:

2012:

2013:

2014:

And that brings us to today.

I am not a perfect photographer and I try to learn a little more with every photo shoot. I enjoy portraiture and I like event photography. I still have a strand of photojournalism in me.

But all of that is just a preface. I want to stress something for all of you in 2015:

The phone on your camera will always be inferior to a good, digital point-and-shoot camera. And a DSLR camera, when used properly, will always be better than both.

The images on your phone can, indeed, be very very good – if you know what you’re doing. As someone who is better at composition than any technical aspect of my own camera, I sort of know what I’m looking for when I look through the “lens” of my phone. But a camera – an actual camera – gives me far more control up front.

What’s the point of having a phone full of images if they are all blurry? Too far away? Pixelated? Off-color?

Yes, yes, we all know the tricks of the trade – a blurry photo can look “vintage” with a sepia filter. I get it. I do that, too.

But come on, people, I need you to hear me: please invest in your own memories. Get a good digital camera to put in your coat pocket. Capture those moments. Zoom in with an optical zoom, not a digital zoom. Take better photos.

And after you take those photos, download them to your computer. Save them. Organize them.

Invest in photo editing software if you like filters and such. Adobe PhotoShop if you gangsta. OnOne Perfect Photo Suite if you not so gangsta.

Share your photos. I like Flickr a lot because it integrates will with so many social networking sites.

But you know you don’t have to share the bad ones, right? If you took 40 photos and 30 are blurry, it’s fine to only share the best ten! Just keep practicing, get better.

Print your photos! Yes, you can still get your digital photos printed. I use the FreePrints app by Photo Affections.

I just really want everybody to do better in 2015. I’m tired of hearing about young mothers who lose all their photos of their babies because they didn’t have the photos saved externally. I am tired of seeing blurry photos from friends who I know have a steadier hand than their photos portray. And yes, I am tired of selfies.

Of course, you could always just hire your own personal photographer if you don’t feel like doing it all yourself. If you do go that route, think of me first.

Brother R. Anthony Mills speaks to AKAs on social action

The sisters of the Psi Phi Omega Chapter of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc., (chartered 2014 in East Baltimore, Maryland) welcomed Brother R. Anthony Mills (Mu Upsilon – Frostburg State University) as a special guest at their last business meeting of the year. Brother Mills facilitated a conversation on the #BlackLivesMatter movement and discussed how women in community leadership, such as the ladies of Psi Phi Omega, may facilitate positive change through social action. Brother Mills is the Eastern Region Vice President of Alpha Phi Alpha, representing chapters from New England to Virginia on the National Board of Directors. He is also a past president of the historic Delta Lambda Chapter in Baltimore, Maryland.

Mrs. Joan Wilmer-Stewart is the president of Psi Phi Omega Chapter, which you may follow on Facebook for updates. More photos, provided by Mrs. Wilmer-Stewart, are below.

Sisterhood Under the Microscope: Respectability, Social Media, and VH1’s “Sorority Sisters”

Last night, I watched VH1’s Sorority Sisters. It’s a new reality show following a group of women in Atlanta who are all members of various black sororities. This summer, a teaser was released and the good respectable black folks of the internet were whipped into a frenzy. Boycotts ensued and the teaser was removed from Vimeo.

Then, in a surprise move, VH1 announced just last week that Sorority Sisters would indeed be making it to prime time, with the popular Love & Hip-Hop New York as the lead-in. The good respectable black folks of the internet were shocked–indeed, horrified–to see that their petition had failed despite all their best efforts. I like reality television so I knew right from the beginning that I would be watching. VH1 in particular invests in their unscripted programming in ways some of the other networks do not, so hopefully the production values would suggest a strong investment.

The show itself entertained me. What sets it apart is that I didn’t have to be a housewife, doctor or doctor’s partner, music mogul, or even wealthy to truly connect with the cast. They were all college educated people who were involved in Greek life. That’s me, too.

I think what makes the show work for me is also why it has frightened so many of the Greeks out there: it is familiar. It is personal. It is revealing.

The paper/made debate was brought up as a tangent to the issue of perps. Is she really a soror? Is she lying? Why is she evasive? Is she real? This is the black Greek culture. This is not surprising at all–it’s just now in the public sphere.

The struggle to accept white members of BGLOs was on full display. So was the teasing of the lone Lady Sigma. This is not new.

I can tell you as a guest blogger for Divine Nine Lover, the aspirants who are in college now already know this culture. We put it on full display right in front of them. I know because they ask us all the time “Why should we be discreet when we know everybody’s business already?”

I get it. I feel them. That horse is already out of the barn.

And I know my “nieces” and “nephews” will be watching this show and will have more questions, and I’m here for it. I think perhaps we underestimate this younger generation. They code-switch well. They know, generally, what’s appropriate and what’s not, just like with any other reality show.

But what’s bothered me has been the response from my fellow Greeks, even before the first episode dropped. You had some people outlining how to conduct a boycott of the show’s advertisers.

How the hell you gonna boycott a show you haven’t seen yet when some of your organizations won’t even let you wear letters to protests?

Listen: I am in favor of any structure which sheds light on the truth. It is my opinion that Sorority Sisters shows the truth of membership in a Greek letter organization. It won’t always be pretty and prissy.

Some sorority members have terrible attitudes. So do some fraternity members. We are not all Martin Luther King–nor do some of us want to be.

Some sorority members are burlesque performers. And you know what? Some fraternity members are very successful porn stars. I am here for it.

Some brothers and sisters are white–and maybe, just maybe when we see Shanna’s story unfold, the members of our orgs who have problems with white members can get over it, and the ones who treat white members like a special accomplishment can get over that, too.

My life as a member of Alpha Phi Alpha has not always been great, and I tell my truth as often as I am able. When I published my first novel Lazarus in 2005, the reactions from my brothers were mixed. Only three people in my alumni chapter supported me with a purchase. I was surrounded by brothers at Howard University and told the founders would be rolling over in their graves because of me. Another brother blocked my website from the university’s servers. And even at the Centennial convention, a brother spent twenty minutes telling me how he couldn’t support a novel about gay people. (But at minute 21, he sho-nuff bought one.)

I say these things not because I am bitter, but because I, too, have been boycotted. I was Alpha’s inconvenient truth: an openly gay member who was always openly gay who wrote books with gay themes. Brothers were not feeling that, me, my books, nothing. No, not all brothers. Many outside my chapter and outside my area were very supportive and still are. I made some of the best friends of my life in the frat at that time, because real people attract real people.

But to just say from the very beginning that you won’t support a show about sorority women just for the possibility that it might portray the sororities in a negative light is hypocritical and reeks of respectability politics.

Oh no, can’t show this on TV!

It will embarrass us!

It will make us all look bad!

Sorority Sisters doesn’t make sororities look bad. It is a reflection (and possibly amplification) of just….life.

Obnoxious. Sensitive. Naive. Sisterly. Loving. Evil. Greedy. Compassionate. Wise. Salt of the earth. Head in the clouds.

That’s what I saw.

I see the same things when I watch Love and Hip-Hop Atlanta. Yes, home of Joseline Hernandez and Stevie J and Mimi and the Shower Rod.

You don’t see the sensitivity of Joseline under her coarse exterior? You don’t feel a kinship with who she is and what she’s been through? When you see the “Puerto Rican Princess,” don’t you see your own sister?

Maybe that’s the problem. We’re so busy “othering” the reality stars who didn’t go to college, who didn’t pledge, who are just common and ratchet and therefore beneath us, that we miss their own humanity and our kinship with them as human beings.

No show of this kind will be everything you want it to be. There will be drama. There will be larger-than-life personalities. But please don’t characterize this show as the worst thing to happen to Greekdom. Fraternities and sororities have far worse problems with which to concern themselves.

“Sorority Sisters” is here whether you like it or not

TV Shows – Full Episode Video – Reality TV Shows

This summer, Greekdom was in an uproar over the reality show “Sorority Sisters” that was threatening to cross over into the pantheon of ratchet reality shows. It seemed as though Mona Scott Young was attached to the project at that time. Petitions were circulated asking, begging, and pleading VH1 to not move forward with this.

But it’s here, so get ready. According to VH1, Mona isn’t even producing this, so I don’t know.

I watch a lot of television. Like, a lot. So I’m not going to boycott this particular show when I could be boycotting a whole lot of other ones before it. I’ll watch it and decide if I want to watch a second episode. But I’ve watched every other Greek-related show out there, so why not this one, too?

Let me know what you think when you’ve seen it.

“To Destroy All Prejudices”

When I created Notable Alphas, it was simply an experiment. I wanted to know whether there was enough positive news about members and chapters of Alpha Phi Alpha to provide a steady flow of content on an independent website, Facebook page, Twitter, and Tumblr. In the past year, I’ve listened to the feedback of Brothers in my circle. There are far fewer videos of new member presentations and less news from Capitol Hill. There are more stories about Brothers in entertainment and in social justice. From time to time, I will also provide an editorial or profile that has more of “me” in it—I am a novelist first, and I feel more comfortable in feature writing than hard news.

This will be a “me” piece.

My time as an Alpha has not been without incident. There have been extremely high peaks and there have been valleys from which I thought I would not recover. There has been the realization that my own leadership style is better suited for a much smaller organization, therefore ending my personal ambitions; yet I was able to make significant contributions as a national committee chairman.

In recent years, I have realized that in addition to being a creative person, I am an introvert. Introverts often perform well independently, in solitude. I have, in earnest, reached out to members of other Greek letter organizations to see whether the talents of introverts are being properly utilized on the micro and macro levels. The jury is still out.

For me, Notable Alphas is the best possible way for me to give back to brothers who have given so much to me. Outside of the chapters, the districts, the regions, the conventions, there have been great men, influential men in my life who I am honored to have considered friends. I am not talking about the Martin Luther Kings and Marion Barrys of Alpha. I mean the roommates, the brothers I met serendipitously at conferences, the friends I made back in the days of BlackPlanet, GreekChat, and MegaGreek.

As I said on Founders Day in 2009:

When Alpha Phi Alpha was founded, an entirely new type of organization was born. It was social, yes, in that fellowship was a very important part of the development of its members. And it was surely considered a general fraternity which didn’t restrict membership purely on major or class standing. Nor was it solely a service fraternity like my beloved Alpha Phi Omega. No, this organization was, from the very beginning, one devoted to social justice even more than fellowship, philanthropy, and academic achievement.

In the preamble to the fraternity’s constitution, there is an admonition to “destroy all prejudices.” For my entire time as an Alpha, I have strived to embody that particular charge. I have never hidden my sexual orientation from the brotherhood, not just because I knew doing so would kill my spirit, but because I knew that at some point in the future, I would be looked to by a younger brother as a role model. I had to be me, in spite of the repercussions, so that the road would be easier for others.

There were repercussions. I am still here.

I have tried to be a voice for religious minorities in the fraternity as well. I have tried to be a voice for the artists who are often drowned out in rooms full of doctors, lawyers, and businessmen. And even though I am grad-made and proud, I have spoken up for college brothers–even when there were none within earshot.

I have always believed that we needed to destroy our own prejudices before we can dare work on destroying the world’s. But now I fear that I have waited too long—the prejudices of the world are destroying us.

The time for introspection has passed. The time has now come for action.

Alpha is what it is. We were good. What we used to be worked. Though we are still what we once were, it is now time to be who we should be.

We have to be actively engaged in the liberation of our people from a system which is literally murdering us. We cannot show up just for the protests and the photo opportunities. We have to take deliberate actions as a body of hundreds of thousands of active and inactive members.

We have to dismantle white supremacy. We need to arm ourselves with the many works—scholarly and accessible—that will train our members how to think critically about what is happening to us, from mass incarceration to academic inequities.

We have to expose white privilege everyplace that it lives.

We have to understand that mentoring black boys won’t prevent them from getting shot by racist police officers.

We have to cast off the years of black respectability politics that inform our current paradigm and investigate entirely different ways of service and advocacy.

We have to be feminists. We have to be leaders in the true equality of womanhood while recognizing that they, too, exist in a system which was not designed for their protection. We must fully stand up against our own male privilege and misogyny. We need to stop raping women. We need to believe women who say they are raped. We need to stop being bystanders to behaviors which harm women and threaten their equality.

We have to end hazing.

We have to end brutality.

We have to turn up.

We have to regenerate.

We have to be so much more to so many more people so that we can simply live.

The battle is not the same as it was in 1906.

Trayvon Martin’s killer walks free.

Mike Brown’s killer walks free.

Eric Garner’s killer walks free.

Hell has finally frozen over, Brothers. For our people, for our future, for the world: it’s time to fight on the ice.

***

Brother Rashid Darden is a novelist. This editorial is not sponsored by any entity and was not reviewed or endorsed by Alpha Phi Alpha.

Ferguson, Social Media, and Good White Folks

It seems as though we are entering into a new era of the civil rights movement and the onus is on white people to put their heads into the game.

There are many other writers who are versed in social justice generally and Ferguson specifically that can address the details of what’s going on globally. As for me, I just want to focus on what I’m observing in my own social media sphere.

I see people of color who are hurting. I am hurting. We’ve had enough. We are tired of being the only people speaking out when another black person gets killed at the hands of the police, or at the hands of cowards who think they are the police.

We’re tired of being the go-to people when good white folks need to get their thoughts organized. But thankfully, good white folks are finally getting it! This time, things have been different for me. I haven’t been sent a lot of personal messages on what white people should do, or say, or how they should act, or where they should volunteer or donate.

Now I see my white friends (my real white friends, not the ones I happen to be connected to) actually engaging their own circles. They are speaking out first on these injustices. They are being intentional in their outreach to each other. They are acknowledging their whiteness and the privilege it entails.

In fact, #WhitePrivilegeWednesday arose as a means of white folks talking to each other about their privilege. It’s a day I get to be silent (if I choose) and let white people talk it out themselves. I can only do so much as a ~~magical negro~~ ~~patient black man~~ person, but white folks can actually listen to each other, challenge each other, and somehow come to an understanding on the complex issues we’re facing.

I am proud of Good White Folks. They are also fighting against the fallacy of “black on black violence” and other distracting debates.

And you know what?

It’s all because they learned how to Google the same shit I Googled when I needed to learn more about these things myself. They follow the same blogs I do, read the same books I have, and otherwise educated themselves. They don’t rely solely on my worldview. However, they do give me the space to be pissed, to cuss, and to say “Fuck white people” without them chiming in with “Not all white people.”

There is still a lot of work to be done, though. Good White Folks still have to educate the white folks who call us “animals” and “savages” when we riot and loot. They have to educate the white folks who believe in the myth of the bootstraps. They have so much work to do, but they can do it.

But I’ll tell you one thing…it took me years to get to the point where I am only connected to white people who are committed to dismantling white supremacy.

And…

Trust…

I know a-plenty of black folks who rely on white supremacy to build their own personal wealth. I mean, I did go to Georgetown. As my mom told me at a young age, when the revolution comes, some black folks are gonna have to go, too.

“We will not accept your cages…”

A Micro-Renaissance

I feel as though I haven’t written in months. I probably haven’t. That will change.

The things in Ferguson have been weighing heavily on my mind, as has the death of my fraternity brother Marion Barry.

But that was yesterday.

It’s time to come back.

Thank you to the women in this picture, my sister-authors, for helping me bounce back. And you ain’t even know it.

More to come.

Our Love for Brother Marion Barry is Complicated

Brother Rashid Darden, Editor of Notable Alphas, pays tribute to Brother Marion Barry.

” I don’t want normal, and easy, and simple. I want. . .I want painful, difficult, devastating, life-changing, extraordinary love. Don’t you want that, too?” –Olivia Pope, Scandal

And so did the citizens of the District of Columbia want a love just as complicated. A love that had to be explained to the rest of America; to the transplants and transients who arrived here with their carpetbags; and to the racists in Congress who–some to this day–don’t believe in the ability of Washingtonians to govern themselves.

This was our Brother Marion Barry (Beta Xi – LeMoyne-Owen College), who we loved complicatedly, unrelentingly, from the depths of our souls to the marble stairs of the District Building.

Much will be said about Brother Barry’s life of contradictions, from his personal troubles to his investments in the youth and the elderly; from his romantic commitments and liaisons to his uncensored language in council meetings. Those wanting more depth on those topics may read many tributes sure to come. Some will be the typical Democratic, tone deaf, “We were close friends” tributes rife with the illusion of proximity. Others will be fair and balanced, scholarly pieces.

But today, I simply mourn him as my Brother and as a native Washingtonian.

When I was in the fifth grade, sometime during 1989 or 1990, I was somehow chosen to shadow Mr. Peter Parham, DC’s Director of Human Services and a member of Marion Barry’s cabinet. Several of us were selected to go to his office, but before I knew it, I was spirited away from the other kids, who were shadowing office workers, and I found myself in a car with Mr. Parham, on my way to a cabinet meeting.

It all happened so fast. Before I knew it, I was shaking hands with a bunch of cabinet members and ultimately, Marion Barry himself. He was larger than life in personality, just as he seemed on television, yet someone accessible to me, like an uncle or neighbor. Like many of my family, he had that southern twang in his voice, signifying that he, too, had migrated here from warmer places. It was a great moment for me.

The major focus of this meeting was the drug trade. Police representatives brought in all these products that the drug traffickers were using to smuggle drugs into the city: soda cans, bottles of cleaning products, anything you can imagine. I remember, once I got home, feeling a deep sense of irony that the focus of the cabinet meeting was about drugs. I cannot recall if my visit was before or after his arrest, but the suspicion of his drug use was rampant, even among fifth grade playground gossip.

That’s what life was like in DC in the 80s and 90s when you loved Mayor Marion Barry. You knew, but you didn’t care. You cared, but you didn’t know. You loved him anyway, because he definitely loved you. He was a civil rights leader who had assumed the next logical level of responsibility to the people. So few did. So few could.

I would see Brother Barry several more times as a child. He was a special guest at the annual Cherry Blossom poster contest awards (hosted by Effi Barry, his now-deceased ex-wife). He was a special guest speaker at my graduation, as he was practically everyone’s. We all know his speech: “Education is like Coca-Cola–it’s the real thing.”

But the damage of his addiction had been done. Even though he returned to the Mayor’s office, and subsequently city council, people in my generation were tired of being the laughing stock of the nation. We loved him, but it was hard to explain him. We loved him, but we needed more. We needed different. We were tired of the complicated love, the dangerous love. This love had transformed us, but it was time to let go.

Brother Marion Barry was still on the scene, though. Just because I had emotionally let go of my attachment to the “Mayor for Life” doesn’t mean he had let go of me, DC, and the people who lived here. He remained steadfast in his career as a politician, but also ensured that his own story was preserved and told. Just this year, he published his autobiography. A few years ago, he cooperated with the production of a documentary about his life. (Links below.)

I am also personally proud that he was, for a period, affiliated with my chapter of initiation. Mu Lambda Chapter of Alpha Phi Alpha in Washington, DC was always proud to include him as one of their most notable members.

Today, we are sad. As Washingtonians. As DC residents. As Brothers of Alpha. His leadership changed my life. His life changed my leadership. He was my mayor. He was my black brother. He was my fraternity brother. My love for Brother Barry hurt. It was extraordinary. It changed me.

And I am grateful that it was all of those things.

Rest in power, Brother Barry.

The Nine Lives of Marion Barry (Documentary DVD)

The Nine Lives of Marion Barry (Amazon Video on Demand)

Mayor for Life: The Incredible Story of Marion Barry, Jr.

This Is The First Awesome Post

One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin. He lay on his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections. The bedding was hardly able to cover it and seemed ready to slide off any moment. His many legs, pitifully thin compared with the size of the rest of him, waved about helplessly as he looked. “What’s happened to me?” he thought. It wasn’t a dream. His room, a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully between its four familiar walls.

A collection of textile samples lay spread out on the table – Samsa was a travelling salesman – and above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame. It showed a lady fitted out with a fur hat and fur boa who sat upright, raising a heavy fur muff that covered the whole of her lower arm towards the viewer. Gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather.

Introduction

The Plot

A collection of textile samples lay spread out on the table – Samsa was a travelling salesman and above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame.By Some Thinker