A Holiday Health Message Wrapped in Love

Combat Jack

Sadly, 2017 just couldn't leave us without hitting us with a blow this week in the form of another lost icon in Hip Hop--Combat Jack nee' Reggie Osse'. National Public Radio summed up Osse's contribution to Hip Hop as such: "The Combat Jack Show started on a lark — with a crazy crew of sidemen including Dallas Penn, Premium Pete, an occasional Just Blaze, DJ Benhameen and producer A-King — on its way to becoming a pioneering hip-hop podcast. The show scored some of the rarest and rawest hip-hop interviews of an era when rap's center of gravity started its move toward the Internet. Ossé was able to get gems out of otherwise reserved or reclusive rappers by employing a type of interview style many emulate today. From Scarface playing guitar live and proclaiming his love for Pink Floyd to Prodigy detailing his own childhood kidnapping to J. Cole telling the story of how he wanted to sign Kendrick Lamar, listeners knew they would always get something special out of a Combat Jack interview."

Phife Dawg

On Wednesday, Osse lost his battle to aggressive colon cancer at age 53. My first thought was of course shock; but my second thought was "we gotta be more proactive with our health." I don't profess to know the details of Osse's diagnosis and subsequent treatment; however, according to the American Cancer Society, colon and rectal cancer is one of the slower progressing cancers, at times taking up to as long as 17 years before becoming life-threatening. If caught in time during a routine checkup, it's a cancer that can be treated and beaten. And that's when my third thought became one of sadness, because Osse is not alone. Hip Hop icons withstanding, each year, we lose loved ones to a myriad of treatable and reversible diseases, from complications of high blood pressure (shout out to Heavy D) to diabetes (shout out to Phife Dawg) to sickle cell (shout out to Prodigy) and of course, to cancer. Even more alarming, we lose many of our black men at a higher rate to these illnesses because, without prodding from loved ones, check ups often range from rare to, in many cases, nonexistent.

Ironically, I grew up with a father who was almost fanatic about his health. I recall my parents having a wall calendar in the kitchen noted with various annual checkups, follow-ups, lab work, and X-ray appointments. And they'd have no problem reminding each other of said dates on a regular basis. In fact, my dad was so proactive, if he had so much as a pain in his toe, off he'd go to the hospital. Therefore, I was taught the importance of managing my health very early, solidified by the fact that my father remains in good physical shape despite his 87 years. I've also been fearfully reminded of the importance of  managing my health with my own mother's passing who, on ONE rare occasion, did miss making an annual appointment that would ultimately cost her her life. Now this is not to say that both of my parents were illness-free throughout their lives, but they were fearlessly proactive to ensure they remained with their loved ones as long as they could and, in turn, set an example for their children to follow, demonstrating that striving for optimal health is just as important--if not more--than any other life goal.

Now, I would be remiss in not saying healthcare under our current Administration is under fire and could in fact become unaffordable for many in the foreseeable future. However, what just as commonly leads to illness and often untimely deaths, is a simple fear--whether that ranges from a fear of needles to a fear of hearing "bad news." But what is much scarier is not being here for those who need us the most, especially if we have the power to do something about it. Therefore, we must make sure we're all living our best lives and that we're also accountable for those who may need to be encouraged to do the same--be it reminding our sistas to get the "tatas" checked; reminding our brothas to show their prostate health some love; or simply not skipping bi-annual dental cleanings that are often free with many of our health plans (as irregular dental hygiene has been directly linked to heart disease).

As is said, "We're only as strong as each of us united." Therefore, we must all do our part to stay as vigilant as possible about our health not only for ourselves but for our entire community, even if that means offering to accompany each other to appointments when support is needed. So, ladies, while you're washing the greens and stuffing the turkey this weekend, start the conversation with your nieces and aunts about breast health care. Fellas, while you're slammin' down dominoes, use Jack and Phife and Heavy as conversation starters with your cousins to discuss cancer, diabetes, and heart disease. Let's have the talks; let's make the commitments; let's hold each other accountable; and let's resolve to being our healthiest selves. Our lives depend on it.

Wishing everyone much peace, love, joy, and wellness this holiday season! Be blessed.

Photo Credits: N/A

Managing Our Pain: A Thanksgiving Message

A year ago as of this month, I worked up the courage to have a medical procedure to improve my quality of life. Having consulted with several doctors as well as a few friends who had made the same decision to do so and with successful outcomes, I decided to go for it. Priding myself on being a pretty good planner, I scheduled my appointment, arranged for post-surgery home care (in the form of my oldest sister), and made sure she wouldn't starve while I recovered by buying tons of ready-to-prepare meals. In fact, I was so confident everything would go as planned, I put a pot roast in the slow cooker at the crack of dawn the morning of surgery, confident I'd be back home by 2 p.m. to turn it off. After all, this was considered in-and-out surgery.

So, hours before the sun would rise, off we headed to the hospital. Scheduled as the first surgery of the day, you could hear a pin drop in a lobby where only one other family sat in addition to my sister and I. Naturally, I was a little fearful, but confident for a successful outcome. After two hours of pre-op procedures--and a doctor who was late thanks to that good ol' DMV traffic--I was finally under and whisked away. In what seemed like a flash (but was really four hours later), I groggily awoke in recovery to the doctor, nurses, and my sister standing around my bed with news: the surgery had ultimately gone well, but I had lost way too much blood in the process and not only would I need one blood transfusion, I'd need at least two. In other words, guess who wasn't going home that day? (On a lighter note, my sister did not forget about the pot roast and had to dash home to turn off the slow cooker, as not to burn down my house. And, yes, it was tasty when we finally got to eat it.)

Recovery began, the transfusion processes commenced, and all seemed to be going well. But on the eve of the second night, I found myself in the worst pain I have ever experienced; the kind of pain where there is nothing you can do to find relief. I was up; I was down; I forced myself out of the bed; and, at one point, was actually on the floor kneeling beside it. I was a wreck, and there was seemingly nothing more that could be done. You see, the nurse had already come in earlier and asked me what my pain level was. He showed me a pain scale chart with six faces of expressions indicating comfort level, and I was to choose one. Although I was already in a fair amount of pain, I selected the face with a tiny smirk, giving the indication that I was better than I actually was. However, as the nurse would quickly surmise and state, "Ms. Kennedy, you far underestimated your pain." In other words, my not being completely honest about the state I was in, directly affected the care I was given. Luckily, the nurse was able to up my pain medicine dosage, and off to sleep I went.

A year later, fully recovered, and grateful for a quality of life that has definitely improved, I am reminded of the experience, and a greater lesson and question that came out of the ordeal: how are we managing our pain? Not necessarily physically, but our mental and emotional pain. Are we suppressing our feelings? Masking our hurt with "hobbies" that are not serving us well? Constantly putting on the "happy face" to make others comfortable, when inside we're crying out for help? Or, even worse, dismissing depression as just "the blues"? In reflecting on the tragedies that are plaguing our society in the form of mass shootings and rising suicide rates, especially among teenagers, it is safe to say that many of us are "drowning" in the silence of our own pain--a pain that often goes unrecognized by most until it's too late.

On this Thanksgiving week, however, I am grateful not only for those whose job it is to help the hurting but also for loved ones who care enough to know when something is wrong even when we passively say, "I'm fine." May we also have the courage to be more honest in asking for what we need when we're simply "not okay," in addition to being more mindful and perceptive of those around us without a "village" supporting them who, in small ways, may be silently crying out for a kind word, a hug, or some positive inspiration they may need to push through one more day. The "pain killers" we employ and masks we wear may work for a little while, but will never replace a healthy, steady dose of love, support, self-care and, at times, even medication, whether for the body or for the mind. Always remember, we are our brother's AND sister's keeper. May you have a happy Thanksgiving, and be a blessing to someone else in need as well.

Click here for emotional support resources. 

Marshall: Howard U. Brilliance on the Big Screen

After a Howard University homecoming weekend celebrating 150 years of excellence, I could not think of a better way to conclude festivities than by supporting the cinematic release of "Marshall" and the two Howard alumni who bring the biopic to life: former Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall (the film's subject) and Chadwick Boseman (the film's lead actor).

Directed by writer and producer Reginald Hudlin ("Boomerang", "House Party", "Django Unchained") and also starring Josh Gad, Kate Hudson, and Sterling K. Brown, the film follows Marshall before he donned the Supreme Court Justice robe but was instead a young NAACP attorney traveling throughout the United States representing innocent men and women of color accused of crimes because of their race, while he was also striving to increase the exposure of the organization. The film, set in the 1940s, depicts the real-life case of wealthy white Connecticut socialite Eleanor Strubing, who accuses her black chauffeur Joseph Spell of sexual assault and attempted murder. When Marshall is denied a "voice" in the courtroom, he teams up with Sam Friedman, a local Jewish insurance lawyer who's never handled a criminal case, to work together to build a defense to save Spell's life.

Thurgood Marshall in 1936

Although Thurgood Marshall's historic acclaims have always been his successfully arguing the Brown v. Board of Education case that would end segregation in schools and, subsequently, his appointment as the first black Supreme Court Justice, Boseman fiercely portrays Marshall as a man who embodied confidence, courage and, dare I say, swagger, long before the world knew who he was. However, what makes "Marshall" a standout film, is the portrayal of Thurgood's life outside of the courtroom--a husband struggling with fighting for justice while being away from his wife when she needs him most; a verbal sharp-shooter who can deliver a quip or comeback to anyone regardless of race; a rebel who would not only use his Howard law degree to help others but who would use it to sue the University of Maryland law school, who denied him admittance because of its segregation policy; and a young socialite in his own right, who enjoyed a good bourbon and laughs with friends, whose names hold solid places in history as well but, to him, were simply his fellow alumni cohorts. In fact, one scene in particular mirrors the banter you can find at any HBCU soiree today, which will hold a sweet spot for any alums who see the film.

However, many of the film's poignant moments are those delivered as simple one-liners that punch you in the gut because of their continued relevance today regarding African-Americans and the criminal justice system: "If you want freedom, you're going to have to fight for it...the Constitution does not apply to us...don't take a plea if you're not guilty...can the cops even be trusted?" As I discussed in a previous blog post after viewing the film, "Detroit," many of our biopics remind us that although we've come a long way as a people, we still have far to go. And a heart-wrenching cameo in the closing scene makes this argument all too real. Yet, "Marshall" shows that even when those challenges are present, it should not deter us from the fight; it should only fuel it. As Boseman states in the movie, “We aren’t slaves, because we rose up and fought and fought and fought...and the only way to get through a bigot’s door is to break it down.” So, for those like Thurgood Marshall who continue to break down barriers as they fight for our freedom and for those like Boseman who are committed to telling the stories of our past, black America salutes you, Howard U. salutes you, and may we all continue to press on toward the mark in "veritas et utilitas," while standing on your shoulders. 

Photo Credits: N/A

Official "Marshall" Trailer

Blessed are Those Who Ask the Question

On what would have been my mother's 84th birthday a week ago today, it was heartwarming to reflect on the wonderful woman and mother she was, and also to ruminate on the many life lessons she taught me along the way. Often delivered as clever, matter-of-fact one liners, you could always expect her to bless you with gems of wisdom that made you laugh but also made you think. As I grew older and began to chase my own dreams, one piece of advice from her that I held close to my heart when oppositions arose was "Just ask for what you want. All that can be said is 'yes' or 'no'."

Now I admit that when I was was younger, I didn't always heed that advice and, in fact, found it quite annoying. After all, who ever wants to feel the disappointment of possibly being denied a request? But, in time, I not only came to realize how much wisdom resided in her words but also how much power lies in having the courage to ask for what you want and in being prepared to accept whatever that response brings.

Writer James Baldwin once said, "Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” And whatever that change is that's needed usually begins with a simple question, whether it's as rudimentary as asking for a raise at work or something more meaningful as asking for someone's hand in marriage or something more powerful as asking for your basic human rights to be respected. However, what often prevents us from asking for what we desire is rooted in the fear that our vulnerability will not allow us to handle receiving that dreadful "no" or is rooted in the angst that we may not be prepared to step up to the next level required if a "yes" is given. And so we end up existing in that space called, "I Wonder If...." However, as is often said, "If God brings you to it, He'll bring you through it," in addition to believing enough in divine order to know that a "no" can be just as huge of a blessing as a resounding "yes," for that's often God's gentle way of saying, "Not that way; but this way."

In also reflecting on the current unrest in the world from challenging the "promises" of our National Anthem to demanding police accountability to fighting against proposed policies that threaten justice and liberty for all, the first step toward change all begins with the courage to ask for what is needed. And, if the answer is "no," finding gratitude in the opportunity to strategically plan a course of action that will lead to the next great movement. Just as every paramount moment in life begins with a simple act; every great act begins with a single question, and it's often, "How can this/I/we be better?"

Thankfully, as I continue to grow, I am developing greater courage to put my mother's words into action even more, which has led to new opportunities that continue to sharpen me. Therefore, as we near the ending of 2017 and prepare for what I pray is an even more blessed and bountiful 2018 for us all, may we develop or continue to build the courage we need to ask the questions that will lead to us living our best lives yet. Thanks Mama.

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Review: Over the Moon, Child

With a week until summer is behind us, I grow nostalgic about my favorite month of the season: June. Not only does it represent Black Music Month, but also the annual Capital Jazz Fest held at Merriweather Post Pavilion, in Columbia, Maryland. In addition to the beautiful weather, dope people, and lineup of award-winning artists surrounded by lush green trees and countless vendors selling items for and about Black people, the Capital Jazz Fest is a time to reconnect with "music heads" and do what we do best--eat, drink, laugh, and "put each other on" to artists we've discovered. This year's 25th annual festival was no exception, as I have a friend to thank for turning me on to what would become my "soundtrack of the summer": Moonchild's Voyager. And so I pass the musical blessing on to you....

First, let's get two fun facts out of the way: 1) I all but overdosed on Voyager's Change Your Mind and The List tracks, and 2) Moonchild is of the "blue eyed soul" variety. However, in addition to the latter, they are also sexy, sassy, and intentional in their lyrics and music. A recent LA Weekly article proclaimed that everyone including Jill Scott, 9th Wonder (with whom they've worked closely), Robert Glasper, Stevie Wonder, The Internet, and Tyler the Creator are fans of the neo-Soul trio. Having met in the University of Southern California's jazz performance program, Max Bryk, Andris Mattson, and lead vocalist Amber Navran toured together as a horn/woodwind trio, with Navran on saxophone, Mattson on trumpet and flugelhorn, and Bryk on sax, flute, and clarinet. As Narvan recalled, “We rode in the car together and realized that we had the same music taste. When we were on that tour, we tried writing a song together and it was really easy, so we decided to come together as a group. It wasn’t that calculated really. We were doing well so we kept going.” (Source: LA Weekly, June 20, 2017)

Photo credit: Meeno

In fact, lead singer Narvan does vocals "so well," you'd be hard-pressed not to compare her to Jill Scott or, perhaps more accurately, Scott's neo-Soul predecessor, Erykah Badu. Although the 14-track Voyager is the L.A. group's third album following their 2012 debut, Be Free, and sophomore album, Please Rewind, which they described as "electronic Dilla soul," for many--like myself--Moonchild is still both new and, yet, right on time. The only thing that's going to be better than keeping this trio in my musical rotation is finally seeing them live, which I'm already making plans to soon do. So, while there are still a few warm weather days left, cop Voyager, put the windows down on your ride, place it in cruise control, lay back, and go on a journey with Moonchild.

Additional photo credits: N/A