Metempsychosis

Last

Year's

Past

I walked into a salon and told a beautician:

Can you cut 

ALL

 My hair off?

The instance 
Said words were spoken

I was greeted by several looks of

 Abstruseness 

Having to reassure
 I wasn't referring to a trim

Nor the desire for it to be curled or styled

Simply.....Cut....It....Off

Awaiting

 The

Irreversible

I overheard someone whisper: 

She probably just  broke up with her man

And wants a

"New look"

But BALD?!?!


Despite
The stylists 
Dismay


Amid


A Lion's Den of speculation
Riddled
With obtrude laughter


I went forth with my demand 


Within an hours time
What was once upon my head
Was placed

 In the palm of my hand....

~*October 6, 2010




I retrogressed infancy
Through the eradication of my
Hair follicles 


As with various stages in life


To grow
Is
Pain...


This is the first time
I willingly
Inflicted it on


Myself

The Journey Beings

During the first days/weeks on this path

Countless individuals asked me

WHY?!?!

Some would gawk at my head 

While those who felt inclined 

To touch my scalp

Would either cringe

Shake their head 

Or looked at me disgustedly 

I truly wasn't prepared
For the aforementioned
 Onslaught

 Certain persons stopped speaking to me
While  others avoided me in public
Embarrassed by my emergence

If I were to state: the reactions I received

From family & friends didn't make me self conscious

 Would be deceitful

Within 30-90 days of my decision

I was introduced 

To an aspect of my nature

Previously latent

Encumbered 

Striving to surpass

 The shallowness 

Of my ego 

It was imperative to delve beneath 

What I felt 

In the presence of others

 Finding the source 

That made me uncomfortably aware 

Of another's gaze

Ironically

It made the concept
Of a song
Frequently heard

Conceivable
By way of
 Endurance




Does the way I wear my hair 
Make me a better person?


Does the way I wear my hair 
Make me a better friend?


Does the way I wear my hair 
Determine my integrity?


I am expressing my creativity...

Intrinsically 

I am in tune 

With the depths of my being

Extrinsically
 I had to assimilate how I'm depicted
By the eye

 Unseen

Scrutinizing
Polar
Entities

I accessed understanding 

Of

The Sameness

Manipulated appearance(s)
The world deems
 Attractiveness 

Attesting 

 The differences of

Replication

 Inadvertently
Damaged

Deterrent

Cultivation....

In the process of my realization
Of painstakingly generational
Domestication

I was born again:

Seeing my outwardly reflection for the first time
Returning to a congenital state
Such as the date light first greeted my eyes

In innocence I cried


Bequest an unknown world
Breathing the breath of life's possibilities
And lessons learned through peril


 Indoctrinated to monstrosity
Immeasurable philosophies
Duplicitous monotony


Reciprocally

A revolutionary spirit
Spewing information
 Known to pierce


Betwixt
Reciprocity
Telling other's of their ancestral history


Edification - Awakening - Elevation
 Precedence towards
The affirmation:

Know Thyself


October sixth, two thousand ten
Signifies my
Rebirth


The demise of being a contradiction
Of my words
via my mane...


Exemplifying my stance
I'll reverberate the words
I used to begin:


As with various stages in life


To grow
Is 
Pain...


This is the first time
I willingly
Inflicted it on 


Myself:


Undeniable 


Maturation


Physical - Mental - Spiritual


Manifestation


Coily kinks
Are the paint
My hair is the canvas

I  am deprogrammed

© LaToya S. C.

 Indigenous...
 Not what the main stream
 Image is

Natural Hair
Is My
Heritage


***

Dedicated to :

Monique C.

Through your  silence, which is your strength

You've inspired me to collectively

Embrace self

 THANK YOU!

P.ositive E.nergy A.ctivates C.onstant E.levation 

Know Your History

If We Do Not Speak 

Of It

Others Will Surely Rewrite The Script 

Continuing with an excerpt from the follow:

"One is astonished in the study of history at the recurrence of the idea that evil must be forgotten, distorted, skimmed over. We must not remember that Daniel Webster got drunk but only that he was a splendid constitutional lawyer. We must forget that George Washington was a slave owner . . . and simply remember the things we regard as creditable and inspiring. The difficulty, of course, with this philosophy is that history loses its value as an incentive and example; it paints perfect man and noble nations, but it does not tell the truth."  ~* W.E.B. Du Bois

"When you deal with the past, you're dealing with history, you're dealing actually with the origin of a thing. When you know the origin, you know the cause. It's impossible for you and me to have a balanced mind in this society without going into the past, because in this particular society, as we function and fit into it right now, we're such an underdog, we're trampled upon, we're looked upon as almost nothing. Now if we don't go into the past and find out how we got this way, we will think that we were always this way. And if you think that you were always in the condition that you're in right now, it's impossible for you to have too much confidence in yourself, you become worthless, almost nothing. But when you go back into the past and find out where you once were, then you will know that you once had attained a higher level, had made great achievements, contributions to society, civilization, science, and so forth. And you know that if you once did it you can do it again; you automatically get the incentive, the inspiration and the energy necessary to duplicate what our forefathers did."  ~*Malcolm X

****

During my adolescence upon seeing the commercial by McDonald's
Lighting candles to commemorate 
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  
I knew my favorite time of year was approaching. 


During the month of February
We paid homage to 4 of my favorite people.
A woman that refused to leave her seat
A male baseball player
A female conductor on the underground railroad 
And a man who had a dream. 


I vividly remember 
The excitement I felt 
Every Black History Month.

Unlike the individuals I read about all year round
Rosa Parks, Jackie Robinson, Harriet Tubman, and MLK
Filled me with a sense of pride
To be an African-American. 


 I was so overjoyed to learn something different
 It never occurred to me to ask
Why did we spend an entire month
Year in and out...
 Talking about the exact same people?


I didn't recognize 
The information that was withheld  
And the gaps in between what  I was taught
Until my eyes were slightly open
In November of 1992. 

I was eleven years old 
When my mother and father took me to see 
Malcolm X 
Directed by Spike Lee. 


At the time, Malcolm X 
 Was the longest movie I ever saw in my life.
I was enthralled every second
 I sat in the movie theater watching.


At the closing credits
 I was in awe of a man I never knew existed
And how different he was from the four individuals I learned about
Every year.


My curiosity was piqued.....





A few months later 
During the 1st day in school of Black History Month
I anticipated asking my history teach about Malcolm X.


We knew everything there was to know about 
Rosa Parks, Jackie Robinson, Harriet Tubman, and MLK
Surely we could discuss something different, right?
WRONG! 


I was told, if Malcolm X was important 
He'd be in our history books.
Being that he isn't, 
Learning about him wasn't up for discussion. 


I was in utter shock 
Unable to reply.
My teachers response 
Silenced me into submission.


3 Years later
My silence was transformed 
Into an invigorating voice 


No one could quell. 

In 1995 at the age of 14
My eyes were opened further
When I went to the movies to see
 Panther 
Directed by Mario Van Peebbles. 





Like Malcolm X
I didn't know Huey P. Newton 
And the Black Panther Party existed. 

Ironically 
This unknown 
Made sense out of everything I was previously taught

It pieced together:
Why Rosa Parks refused to leave her seat
Why Jackie Robinson was commended
Why Harriet Tubman Freed slaves
And the reason behind Martin Luther King's dream.

Although it wasn't Black History Month
I couldn't wait until I went to school the following Monday
 So I could ask my History teacher about The Black Panther Party. 

I assumed 
Because I was no longer in elementary school
My Junior high school teacher would answer my inquiry, right?
WRONG!

I received the same response. 
This time around I refused to remain silent.
I responded in an authoritative manner
Demanding to be taught about those who weren't written in our schools history books. 
Not just during Black History Month, but all year long. 


That day was the 1st time I was suspended from school
For 'challenging' an educator.
It definitely wasn't the last, 
for years to come. 

I was determined to
Obstruct:

"Philosophers have long conceded... that every man has two educations: that which is given to him, and the other that which he gives himself. Of the two kinds the latter is by far the more desirable. Indeed all that is most worthy in man he must work out and conquer for himself. It is that which constitutes our real and best nourishment. What we are merely taught seldom nourishes the mind like that which we teach ourselves." 
 

What formal education refused to provide
I spent countless hours cultivating my mind 
At various libraries, teaching myself.
Slowly opening my visions circumference. 


In February of 2001 at the age of 20
I was bestowed with good fortune to have met
And had an in depth discussion with 
S.E. Anderson, the author of:

Conversing with S.E. Anderson 
Coupled with the content I absorbed from his book
My eyes were opened 
Conclusively.

A week later
In the course of my internship
At Teen Talk Radio.


I was given the opportunity 

To read the following poem during Black History Month
Live on the air:

Unspoken Truth 

"Free at last, Free at last,

Thank God almighty

We are free at last"

Martin Luther King, had a dream

The speech he delivered, Gave inspiration and gleam

But to know one’s history, What would those lines

Really mean:

We’ll we ever be free

Because if we were, In this land ,We wouldn’t be

Crossed over by sea, In chains

Beaten and tormented, stripped to shame

Taken to plains and fields

Wondering where we came from

Ever exist - No longer real

Watching our people, Get slaughtered and killed

Was our pain

How you stripped us of our name

Culture and dignity

You made us into slaves, The lowest of living things

Inherent pangs

Giving birth to their children, Still being enslaved

At the tender age of three

As long as they could walk, That’s all massa could see

For to them we went nothing

We were less then human beings

Through the Atlantic Slave Trade, Millions of my people died

For hundreds of years, It is only my people who have cried

Who tears have dried, Nothing of them remains

But pictures, scars, nooses, and chains

By bringing them here, What have they gained

As I ask those who brought us here

Have no shame, Only greed

Twisting history so to others

It is misconceived

We must look upon the past, To know what was done

To us throughout history, cannot be overcome

What gives us hope, Inspiration and gleam

Should be more then just a dream

But to see:

Living upon a land

One doesn’t come from

We’ll never

Be free

© LaToya S. C.

Author's Comments

 Inclination:

 Silenced

Nevermore 

 
The poem above was written 10 years ago
Until this day
I continuously nourish my mind
Striving to insight the appetite of inquiry
In the minds others.

Never losing sight of:

"The events which transpired five thousand years ago; Five years ago or five minutes ago, have determined what will happen five minutes from now; five years from now or five thousands years from now. All history is a current event" ~*Dr. John Henrik Clarke 

They Are Us.

They Are Me;
They Are You.

Know Your History.....

Remember Who You Are

Has anyone ever asked something of you

And in your intent to help said individual

They unintentionally gave you more then what they've asked?

To receive that which was never expected 

Is one of life's many treasures. 

A gift that isn't visual to the eye,

touching your essence

letting you know the unseen is real..


I would like to continue with an excerpt from the following:

"A mirror shows the reflection of anything that stands before it. We stand in front of a mirror and look to the mirror for answers. But what if we turned to ourselves for the answers instead?

Who Am I?

Isn't it strange that everyone forms an idea on who you will become or where you're going; yet the only person that is clueless is you? From the time you were a child, it seems that everyone sees your future through a crystal clear window. You are confused however, while you struggle to peer through the foggy glass hung on the wall. Countless times you look hesitantly into the mirror, not sure whose face you will see today, because you are constantly redefining who you are; but then it's the same face.

Discovering who you are is a lifelong journey. But in the early stages of your life, you already have the foundation for this elusive concept. You know many of your likes and dislikes; you know the things that brighten your day or the thing that make you upset. Even just looking at the environment that you live in can say a lot about you. When you look at the types of people around you or the mood of the atmosphere you've created in your personal space, this can portray a clear image of who you are. 

 Embracing Who I Am

You're in awe of this person who stands before you in the mirror. Your eyes are full of determination; your face is serious and sure; and your lips form into a slight smile of satisfaction. This is you, in all of your glory. This is you for the rest of your life.

I cannot tell you how many times I have been surprised by the face that stares back at me in the mirror. I cannot tell you how many times I have been startled by the gap between who I was and who I am. I cannot count the times where I have simply smiled back at the face and said quietly, "This is me; This is who I am." Satisfaction fills my body, blocking any doubt from crossing my mind. It's such a feeling of peace and harmony; like nothing could ever touch me or carry me down from where I float. I am not joyful or depressed; I'm just me.

Becoming Your Best Friend

It has taken me many years to catch up with myself. But, with much practice, I have learned to live from day to day, not knowing who I will become tomorrow, but living with the confidence that I will love whoever I will become. I look into the mirror with the knowledge that tomorrow I may bloom into someone slightly different from who I am today. But I see past me, present me, and future me; and I love it all with such a deep passion. 

I call this section "Becoming Your Best Friend" because I believe that the love I have for myself is that of a close companion. This love is the most important affection one can have. Friends may come and go, but this friend will always be there with you. This friend is your best support and best caretaker, your best role model and best motivator. Others can influence, but only you can make it happen....."

****

 I selected the words above for someone else to read.

which  brought tears of insight 

as the warmth of gratitude cascaded throughout my being. 

Once again I give my sincerest thanks to Khadija. 

Hearing from you today pointed me in the direction of this book, 

leading me to the dearest book I've ever received.

****

The following words, were previously written. 

Right now I sit 

 closing my eyes 

Seeing what I've allowed life to bury in my mind. 

Remember Who You Are

                                                     Written July 07, 2008                                                    

As I was going through, what I've written in the past. I realized how important it is to document what one feels. The words you write today can be inspiration to yourself, at a later date and time.

Earlier this evening, I was going through my draws trying to find something. During my search I found a paper I wrote in college. The assignment was to compare Icon’s and artifacts. I laughed when I noticed I wrote 8 pages. I said to myself, YUP! You truly are long winded, how on earth could you write 8 pages on something so simple. The fact that I wrote 8 Pages, sparked curiosity within me. So, I read it again.

As I was reading, I kept saying in my head, WOW! I cannot believe I wrote this at such a young age. I also couldn't believe how much of myself I revealed in my paper. It also dawned on me, how much of my life I’ve forgotten about. As I approached the end of my paper, a particular section blurred my vision, as tears fell from my eyes.

“ The faculty and students had a little get together and said their goodbyes. My grade advisor handed me this book she bought in China town. Inside the book said: “ To LaToya: may you fill these pages with your beautiful poetry. Keep reaching for the stars and let no one stop you from achieving your dreams”. After I read what she wrote I broke down crying. And I’ll never forget what she said “Oh don’t cry LaToya I only paid a dollar for it”. What she paid a dollar for means more to me than words can ever describe.

My Life's Greatest Book

And you know what, throughout the years I forgot those words, and that book. It got buried under the books I’ve purchased, yet I knew exactly where it was. I went on my book self and took it down. Just looking at this book as I held it in my hands, I felt a sensation no words can decipher. As I read the inscription inside of it, in Victoria’s hand writing the sensation only grew stronger.

The date this book was given to me, was August 14, 2000. I thought to myself, I can’t believe that was eight years ago. The value of the words written, mean more to me as I’ve said before “ more than words can ever describe.”

In a world, in which you constantly feel misunderstood. For someone to give you inspiration to continue to be exactly what you are, is immense.

As far back as I can remember, I’ve been a writer. Whatever I felt, was released from within my being, onto paper. Whenever I felt something intensely, I would write. Whenever I felt anger I wrote. Whenever I felt happiness, pain, sadness or joy… I wrote. Some of the things I wrote amaze me, when I read it. I often don’t remember ever feeling that way. But for me to have written about it, I know it was real to me during the time, I jotted it down on paper.

I have two very large bins in my closet full of papers, books and journals, I wrote in throughout my life. I sat on my floor and read for a good four hours. I was taken aback, to joyous and horrific incidents in my life. Some words wowed me, some words saddened me, and some words made me smile or laugh out loud. In all in which Ive read, this may sound strange but, those words were all MINE. These words came from ME… That in itself is beyond inspiration.

I would like to take this time and write out the names of those who encouraged me in life. Who saw in me what I didn't quite understand.

To Mr. Nazzario my social studies teacher in the 7th grade, you told me I was a “diamond in the rough” which to a 7th grader, I thought was an insult. I remember asking my mother what your words meant, and she told me it was a compliment. On the last day of class you gave me a certificate of “academic achievement” that I still have….. Thank you.

To Mrs. Hamilton, my 8th grade English teacher. I’ll never forget the day, we had a test I forgot to study for. Someone in class had a cheat sheet and passed it to me. You caught me cheating on your test and embarrassed me worse than my mother . You told everyone to stop taking their test, and made me get up in front of the class and asked me all the questions out loud. I got all of the answers right except two. You made me stay after class and said, “You were only cheating yourself”…. For those words I thank you.

To Mrs. Henry, my high school English teacher. I sat here and read the journal you made us keep as we were reading “Manchild in the Promised Land” and smiled at the correspondence we shared. At the age of 16-17 you spoke and treated me as if I was an adult, and gave me a respect no one else in life gave me. I appreciate your encouragement, and all the questions you asked me, that helped express my thoughts and point of view….. thank you

To my other two high school teachers (I forgot your names, but I can close my eyes and still see both your faces). Both of you kept me after class. At first I thought I was being punished, as you both picked my brain and had long discussions with me outside of the curriculum that was being taught. In time I looked forward to the bell ringing. As each of you encouraged me to do things I never dreamed of, and went out of your way to steer me in various directions, I never knew existed….. thank you.

To Professor Scott, whose classes I took for 3 semesters. I’ll NEVER forget the day you called me belligerent. I was highly offended (because I didn’t know the meaning of the word) and within the next breath you told me I should run for student president ( I truly thought you were insane) LOL… I also sat here and read every paper I wrote in your classes, and by reading my paper on “Incidents in the life of a slave girl” and “ The scarlet letter”, and my outburst during class, yes I admit, I am belligerent (Smile).

But more importantly, you selected me to play Toledo when we read August Wilson’s “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom”… You told me that I WAS Toledo. No one could play him better than me, because who I am as a person embodies the same spirit. Coming from a white man, once again I thought you were trying to insult me. But after I read my last line, and met my demise in the last scene of the play I understood your words. For the subtle ways, you pointed me out to myself, I ..... thank you.

I wanted to take this time out to thank the educators who have taught me in life. That saw in me what I didn't know was there, and often lose sight of. I am thankful I can go back to these reminders, on who I've always been as a person. And how it was perceived, by those in which I respect.

I am beyond appreciative; so many people in life reflected myself back to me, in various forms.

Thank you.

I am The Person, I Always Was......

And Will Continue ,To Be ME

© LaToya S. C.

*****

Open eyes to the present.....

Today I walked up to the mirror of reflection, 

and I realized I'm following my life's purpose, and it feels... phenomenal.  

When another asks for help or guidance is truly the best part of my day. 

On days I'm not asked, I sit and think what can be beneficial to others.

Giving back is my happiness

To write all that I feel, even if no one reads or understands is my joy. 

Being exactly who I am in the sporadic intervals of life

 Music play's along my Melodic Tapestry

 Obliged to everyone in my path.

Blessings are in abundance.

Continuously:  

"It takes some people a lifetime to find out who they are and then another lifetime to love that person. But sometimes the answers to all of our deepest and hardest questions are right within our reach. If we just take some time to look around us, look at the love that surrounds us, the environment that cradles us. That is the time when we will find out who we are; and that is the time when we will love that person with all of our mind, body, spirit, and soul." ~*Dani Noble