Living in the Moment

Recently I had the pleasure of attending a mega concert. Not a huge deal since I've been a regular concert goer since the 1980s when I was single digit age. In fact, my first concert was a 1982 show featuring local go-go artists at the Capital Centre--home of the Washington Wizards then the Washington Bullets. No matter how old I get, the excitement I feel when the house lights go down, the roar of the crowd goes up, and the band hits its first note never escapes me. It's a moment I live for.

As I've gotten older, my concert going experience has changed a bit, as I prefer smaller venues, dining halls, and taverns, where I can get a more intimate experience with my favorite artists; an up close personal touch, where not only can I hear my favorite song but I can truly experience it. Where the artist may come out into the audience for a glass of water or even a french fry from someone's plate (yeah, I've actually seen all of this) or hang around after the show and chat with fans. In those moments, it truly becomes a "family affair" to be cherished.

My first concert ticket.
Photo credit: Erica Kennedy

However, there are those mega artists whose presence--and popularity alone--cannot be contained in anything smaller than a stadium and you either go along or settle for jamming to their tunes in your car instead. So, there I was on that recent Thursday night, in the midst of it all--the screaming fans, the excitement, the booming bass from the speakers vibrating bodies of all ages and races--and camera phones. Camera phones as far as the eye could see in almost EVERY hand. Most taking pictures of themselves; others taking pictures of the artists; but many--thanks to the newer Facebook Live app--recording themselves "having fun"--or at least being highly invested in making others believe that.

In all of the madness, I literally had a moment of reflection--and a bit of sadness--of how technology, while advancing all of our lives mostly in positive ways, have robbed us of some very basic pleasures. One of those: authentically living in the moment. We're all guilty of it at times, myself included. That is, clinging to that unfounded fear of losing the moment; of trying to find a way to bottle what we're feeling; to freeze time. But in all of our technologically advanced efforts to capture eternity, what we're unfortunately doing is missing the moment all together.

Global mega star Beyonce can even be seen here--albeit captured on camera phone by a concert goer--pleading with a fan during her performance of "Irreplaceable" to "put that damn camera down." "You can't even sing cause you're too busy taping," she said. "I am in your face, baby. You gotta seize the moment."  Seizing the moment. It's something I couldn't agree with more, as I can think of one show in recent years that was so ground-breaking, I let my fear of missing any of it, cause me to view half of it through my phone. And I can tell you, it's a moment I often wish I could get back just to experience it fully present.

As multifaceted as we think we are, we honestly are not equipped to let all of our senses be fully engaged in a moment while focusing on the perfect shot or recording. It simply can't be done. And although we may have the footage for life, we'll never have the actual experience for life. Our "minds eye," which is needed to adequately file that moment away, will always be compromised in trying to capture it.

The only photo Prince would approve of.
Photo credit: Erica Kennedy

I couldn't be more reminded and appreciative of this as I was on June 14, 2015 when a friend invited me to see Prince in concert. Prince, adamant about no photography during his show, had security in place to take away any phone they saw or remove any concert goer using one. Of course, there were those who tried to sneak and capture a shot or two, but for the most part, everyone was forced to be present. To see his Royal Badness with their own two eyes, and not through the filter of a camera phone; to contribute their full energy to the atmosphere Prince was creating--a shared space in time in a crammed Warner Theater, shoulder to shoulder, fan to fan. When Prince would unexpectedly leave this earth less than a year later, I could not be more grateful for his directive that evening. Why am I thinking about this now? Because as I type this, I'm cleaning out my DVR on a rainy Saturday evening and melancholically enjoying the special "20/20" report aired the day after Prince's passing celebrating his life. And, again, I'm more grateful than ever for that "unfiltered" final experience.

Yes, technology has forever changed the way we live, how we process information, literally, and how we navigate life on a daily basis, but we are still very much in control of how we process our own experiences. It is my hope that along with finding ways to be smarter, quicker, savvier, and dare I say it, "more popular," with our social media "audiences," we're not trading in the purest of moments to do so. Let's make more moments in time special by actually experiencing the fullness of them, fully present and free from the distractions of ourselves; free of regret.

Photo Credits: N/A

Say It Loud: Black TV Got Us Proud!

It happened. It really happened. Without warning, my TV viewing schedule filled nightly with story lines that made me laugh, cry, stand up and shout; gave a platform for characters that made me cheer, fear, and leap out of my seat; provided an outlet for actors and actresses that made me think, gasp, and celebrate. And they were all black. For the first time in a long time, I could say with pride: I See Black People. People that looked like me; my friends; my family; my colleagues. Plots that captured everyday life, yet were handled accurately and with the authentic care and sensitivity that can only be achieved when stories for us are written, produced, and directed by us.

For longer than I care to remember, we've been in a diversity struggle with Hollywood. The last few years have found this battle intensifying as 21st century movies and shows continued to "objectify" our 17th century experience, sans the many accomplishments and milestones we accomplished that lied between and throughout those many years. Even when our vast, modern experience was attempted to be explored, it was often done so through a stereotypically-tinted lens.

But thanks to the emergence and popularity of social media, those conversations we once shared around the dinner table and water cooler, where we expressed our frustrations about an industry that never recognized the whole of us, were now constantly on full display from hashtag protests to YouTube videos to good ol' fashioned boycotts complete with picket signs (shout out to my sister pictured left protesting near the Dolby Theater during this year's Academy Awards). But a notion I have long clung to is that the flaw in these protestation demands was that we were insisting others recognize us; do for us; properly tell our stories. We seemed to never fully embrace that the answer was in not asking for a handout but in taking our hands to create--and fully support--our own.

I, personally, never cared for the Academy or Emmy Award's recognition of our work. What I did care for were the NAACP Image Award's recognition; the American Black Film Festival Awards recognition; the Trumpet Awards recognition. And I really cared that we didn't grasp that this recognition from our peers should have been the only true measure we concerned ourselves with. Now, I'm not naive enough to think we can exist exclusively in the entertainment industry without the "melanin-free-powers-that-be" involvement in many of our projects, but what I do notice is that when we focus less on acceptance and "fitting in," and instead turn our energy towards boldly breaking out to do (and fund) our own thang, "others" will catch the wave. And that wave is indeed now being caught.

Do we still have a ways to go before the fight for more diversity is no longer a topic of discussion? Absolutely. But do I feel optimistic that the tide is beginning to turn? I do. We just have to remain fully engaged and present to ensure it continues, and getting behind the camera (thank you Ava DuVernay and Neema Barnette), thinking outside the box (thank you Shonda Rhimes), taking a seat at the writing table (thank you Donald Glover), keeping the "show running" literally (thank you Courtney Kemp Agboh and Cheo Hodari Coker) and managing the board rooms of own networks (thank you Oprah Winfrey and Cathy Hughes) is critical to that continuous evolution--an evolution that must actively be supported, if change is to be continuous and lasting.

Below are just a few shows--some old, some new (and forthcoming); none borrowed nor blue--that are indeed representing us, front and center, almost every day of the week, in every facet of our beautifully diverse lives that I personally applaud and support. Catch the wave, spread the word, and let's keep dreaming, creating, and moving--in the right direction.

Monday - In the Cut & Family Time (Bounce TV: 9 & 9:30 p.m.)

Tuesday - Atlanta (FX: 10 p.m.)

Wednesday - Black'ish (ABC: 9:30 p.m.);
Greenleaf  (off season) & Queen Sugar (OWN: 10 p.m.)

Thursday - Pitch (Fox: 9 p.m.)

Saturday - Iyanla: Fix My Life (OWN: 9 p.m.)

Sunday - Power & Survivor's Remorse (Starz: 9 & 10 p.m.)

Netflix Originals:  Luke Cage (September 2016)

On the Horizon: Shots Fire (2016/2017)

Photo Credits: N/A

Review: Welcome to "Atlanta"

On what is usually an uneventful TV night, Tuesday found me having to make a few hard choices. Among them were the much-anticipated Oprah Winfrey-produced-Ava DuVernay-directed original dramatic series, "Queen Sugar,"; one of my favorite sports-meets-human interest series, HBO's "Hard Knocks"; or FX's new, left-of-center comedy, "Atlanta." Based on the title of this post, it's no surprise which one I chose to dive into first. God bless the DVR.

I'll admit, I purposely stayed away from any reviews, or should I say previews, about FX's newest offering, choosing instead to be "surprised" for what it had in store. So outside of its literally backward running promos, I was clueless. Now, I will say, I may be a tad biased as I've been a fan of its lead actor, comedian Donald Glover a.k.a rapper Childish Gambino, for some time. The former NBC "Community" sitcom star has been steadily making his way up the Hollywood ladder, complete with a few sidesteps and unnecessary attacks, in particular when the Internet went into a frenzy with speculation of him being Spiderman's next Peter Parker (Personally, if they were going to cast an African-American to play the Webbed Wonder, I literally can not think of anyone else BUT Donald, but I digress. Shame on the racially narrow minded. Next). While Glover donning a mask anytime soon remains to be seen, in the meantime, he's making his mark in the Dirty South. And so Atlanta begins.

With quick-witted, dead pan, humor, I was only five minutes into episode one before I found myself giggling...and then I realized those giggles continued throughout, which let me know I was sold on the show only halfway through its 30 minutes. In what feels like Adult Swim's "Black Jesus" meets a real-life episode of Nickelodeon's "The Boondocks," Glover plays Earnest "Earn" Marks, a 20-something, Princeton dropout, airport working, bus riding, kicked out of his parents house (let's say, for not being focused), single father, whose daughter's mother has no problem letting him know she has a date, only moments after crawling out of bed with him. He has dreams of making it. Making it in what, he's not yet sure. However, the first episode finds him discovering a possible path to success by managing his local rapping cousin, Alfred a.k.a. Paper Boi. But Paper Boi, who considers Ernest more "Martin and not enough Malcolm" is not convinced he has what it takes to take his music career to the next level. And that's just the doubt Ernest needs to push himself--and, thus, the series--forward. In keeping with the style of its promos, the episode begins at the end before backing up and showing how it got there. And let's just say it ends and begins with a bang--literally and figuratively.

Complete with a supporting cast of characters that we've surely all seen before--the rapper; his-always-high sidekick; the party-hoppin' best friend; the on again/off again girlfriend--Atlanta somehow makes it all work, while also making it feel fresh and new, even while employing stereotypes you'd come to expect. However, it does do its part to cast a conscious eye on real-life issues plaguing the black community. That's wholly due in part to Glover's unique ability to play a character that wears both optimism and pessimism like a perfect pair of pants, questioning all that sees, while pursuing his dreams with both boyish charm yet grown-up realness. He's not the hardcore gangsta or wannabe thug from the 'hood. He's just an every day guy smart enough to know the real money making happens behind the rapper yet naive enough to even bother gambling on making it in the dog-eat-dog music business in the first place. You root for his success but, deep down inside, know he's always going to be one step behind in his quest to reach fame on his terms--a quest that's probably going to go very wrong before it's even close to going right. And that's a premise that can keep a show like Atlanta, with both slick humor and gritty, Southern street style, going for a while. Will it? That--and ratings--remains to be seen. But, if the series keeps the same momentum as its first episode, I'm here for it as long as it's here for me.

Atlanta
FX
Tuesdays at 10 p.m.

Photo credits: N/A

Oh Say (What?) Can You See....

Nothing tickles me more than a group of people speaking on behalf of another group of people to try and solidify an argument, only to discover that very group of people is actually on the side of the "perpetrator" in question. Such is the case with the recent Colin Kaepernick fiasco, and his choice to exercise his right to not stand for the National Anthem before his NFL games largely in protest of the continuous, unfair and unequal treatment of his fellow African-American counterparts at the hands of law enforcement. According to Kaepernick, "I am not going to stand up to show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses black people and people of color," Kaepernick told NFL Media. "To me, this is bigger than football and it would be selfish on my part to look the other way. There are bodies in the street and people getting paid leave and getting away with murder."

There's no need to rehash the arguments in favor and opposing the star quarterback's actions, but a large part of the debate from the naysayers are centered on his disrespect for both his country, and the men and women who fought, and continue to fight, for the very liberties he (seemingly) is allowed to enjoy--like playing football. Pause. Ironically, after every sports commentator, political pundit, "bleeding heart American," and everyday Joe exhausted every breath they had on the topic, the uncanny hashtag #VetsForKaepernick began trending. That's right. The very people who put their lives on the line for those liberties are supporting the San Francisco 49er's player's freedom to not stand for the Anthem in protest.

Now, of course, those veterans supporting the hashtag do not represent all veterans; I'm sure a great number of veterans are in opposition to his stance. However, as a daughter and sister of four military veterans, there's one thing that I've always been made aware of: the racism that lies even within those branches of military. It's a racism that first found itself kneaded in the soil of our country, woven in the stripes of our flag, and etched out in the verses of our "beloved" Anthem. And, so, it actually is no surprise that those who've given their lives for our freedom, yet whose skin color at times may not allow them to enjoy every liberty that's been promised to them under out great Constitution, finds Kaepernick's convictions both relateable and supportable.

Even more peculiar (read: hypocritical) is that in this moment in time, where we find ourselves less than two months shy from the possibility of a new world leader, whose every sordid, racist remark has been shrouded in his belief that America is no longer great, that Kaepernick's stance is being deemed unacceptable. When in fact, his choosing to not stand for the Anthem is shrouded in the very same belief that America needs to do better and be better, to everyone who was promised all of its virtues, regardless of color or class.

As writer Ta-Nehisi Coates so eloquently explored in his book, "Between the World and Me," the black body has always been seen as something that needed to be controlled and not only is Kaepernick controlling his own body in this, he's doing so with what our own President Barack Obama refers to as the "audacity of hope." Love it, like it, hate it, abhor it, this type of audacity to stand, sit, speak, or protest driven by the hope of a better tomorrow is indeed what the flag and, thus the Anthem, truly represents. When we start to question one person's interpretation of what that means to them, is the moment we put all of our own liberties at stake. And that is something that should never be debated. Salute.

Photo credits: N/A

Three Stars Take Us to the Moon And Beyond

One of my first blog posts on this site was on the Academy-nominated movie, "The Help." At the dawning of the 84th Oscars, I stood on the side of those who were not too anxious to celebrate yet another movie that seemed to consistently tell only parts of our black history--parts that continuously show us in subservient instead of equally celebratory roles. Interestingly--yet, not surprisingly--in a year that finds a television series chronicling the Underground Railroad being renewed for a second season as well as the anticipated (and now controversial) fall debut of Nate Parker's "Birth of a Nation," it seems we are continuing to "shackle" ourselves to these themes. However, as I continue to stand on the side of those not too anxious to celebrate the "tried and true," I found hope in learning of a cinematic gem heading our way titled "Hidden Figures."

Starring Janelle Monáe, Taraji P. Henson, and Octavia Spencer, "Hidden Figures" tells the untold true story of Katherine Johnson, Dorothy Vaughan, and Mary Jackson--a team of three brilliant black women who, in the 1960s, helped make their mark on history by providing NASA with important mathematical data needed to launch the program's first successful space missions, all while combating racial and gender bias. Set to hit theaters in January 2017, I could not be more excited to experience this much-needed-to-be-told part of AMERICAN history, and am looking forward to what will be an "out of this world" movie-going experience. For a sneak peak of the trailer, click below. See you at the theater!