Journey to Jena - Part 3

 

After spending a few hours at the high school, I went back to the courthouse and there were still tons of people there.  It was obvious that the main part of the program was over because the speakers were using megaphones, not microphones.  The speakers were from the Black Panther Party.  I listened to them for about 5 minutes and quickly figured out that they didn’t totally represent my thoughts.  It was about 4PM by that time.  They were cursing, saying that the police officers (surrounding the stage) had blood on their hands, and passed the megaphone to angry members of the crowd.  While I felt their pain and struggle, I didn’t agree with their method of spreading their message.  In the middle of one of their speeches, the rapper, Mos Def, showed up.  They escorted him straight to the megaphone and he mentioned that what was going on in Jena was not just a black issue, but rather a human issue.  I totally agree with Mos Def.  After he spoke, one of the Black Panther Party leaders arrived.  As he made his way to the stage, he pushed folks out of his way.  He slightly bumped me, realized that he was going the wrong way, then made his way to the stage though an alternative route.  The police wouldn’t let him get to the stage, so his people just passed the megaphone to him while in the crowd.  I won’t repeat what he said because he cursed a lot.  Later on, at the March on Washington (Nov 15, 2007), I saw that same guy (Malik Shabazz)…who turned out to be the lawyer for Megan Williams, the sistah who was tortured and raped in West Virginia.  While he was speaking, I accomplished more interviews.  I remember speaking to an older lady about current issues facing our black communities.  She gave me some historical information that intrigued me, so I pulled out the voice recorder.  Once I did that, she shut down and ended the conversation.  I was taken aback by her reaction, so I put away the voice recorder.  When we finished speaking, I then understood why she didn’t want her words recorded.  Throughout our conversation, I was informed by another interviewee that she was also in the Black Panther Party, and while speaking with her, other members of the party were staring at her and me.  When their leader finished speaking on the megaphone, they all lined up in a single file, performed some facing movements, and marched out of there.  Based on what I saw from them that day, they appeared to have been there to recruit. Read more

Journey to Jena - Part 2

 

The courthouse was the designated location for the main speakers for that morning.  Rev Al Sharpton, Jessie Jackson, Michael Baisden and others were to speak sometime that morning.  I hung around there for a minute, and then I heard a crowd chanting and walking away from the courthouse.  My impatience led me to follow that crowd.  We walked toward Jena High School chanting, “No Justice, No Peace”.  A brotha on the megaphone would say, “We’re gonna keep on coming,” and we’d keep chanting, “No Justice, No Peace”.  Since I had never been in a march before, it felt weird to chant.  I started saying the words softly to myself as I held my voice recorder in the air and made my way to the guy on the megaphone.  Once I got close to him and could hear him better, I started to chant loudly myself.  CNN and local TV station cameras were all around him.  We made our way to the Jena High School sign, which was located at a corner.  While turning the corner, everyone took a picture near the sign. 

 About a hundred yards from the sign, I noticed two things that drew similar reactions.  The first thing that I noticed was that on the left side of the street, there were about 5 police officers on horseback.  All I could think about was how we black folks have been abused by such police officers in the 1960s.  I just stared at them and pressed on.  The second thing that I noticed was that on the right side of the street, a local radio station had set up a booth.  I was upset at that station because instead of playing some uplifting music or speeches, they were playing booty-shaking music.  The DJ was asking people to represent as he shouted out the cities and states that they were from.  He yelled out, “New York”, and New Yorkers would shout, “Atlanta,” and Atlanta people would scream.  We were marching and chanting (cameras watching), then all of a sudden this loud music and irritating DJ drowned out that portion of the march.  I was sooo pissed off!  I thought they were turning this monumental event into a profit-seeking venture.  Not only that particular radio station, but there were many vendors taking advantage of the situation as well.  “Free The Jena 6” t-shirts were selling like crazy.  Even white people in Jena were selling Jena 6 t-shirts.  I must admit that I bought one from some black folks in Alexandria. Read more

Journey to Jena - Part 1

I heard about the Jena 6 March on XM satellite radio station 169, “The Power”, which is the only African American talk station in the US.  Coincidentally, I was on my way from Fayetteville, NC to San Antonio, TX due to my recent separation from the US Air Force.  I decided to drive out on September 19^th, immediately after signing paperwork to sell my house to the next owner.  The timing could not have been better.  All of the hotels in the nearest city, Alexandria, LA, were booked up so I got a room at a nearby military base, Fort Polk.  I drove from Fayetteville, NC and arrived at Fort Polk at 2AM on September 20^th, 2007.  I showered, changed clothes, packed my backpack with snacks, and drove to the designated meeting place.   

 

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Nairobi, Kenya Part 1

Right now, the East African nation of Kenya is experiencing much turmoil
in the aftermath of a very controversial election. To help ease any
trepidation one may feel about visiting the Motherland in the wake of so
many desperate-looking situations, I may be able to help. It was my
first international trip, and it couldn’t have come at a better time –
just about one month after Hurricane Katrina ravished the Gulf Coast and
even less time after Hurricane Rita finished off what Katrina didn’t
have an appetite for in its havoc.

This trip was an opportunity for me to assist my pastor in an outreach,
mission opportunity never undertaken by our church, The Potter’s House
of Dallas. The church took its entire mass choir, a group of business
leaders and medical professionals. The choir would record during two
days of a crusade in Uhuru Park before nearly half a million people from
all parts in and outside the capital, Nairobi. The business leaders from
the church would work with political and business leaders in Nairobi to
generate ideas to boost economic activity in the country, and medical
professionals went into the rural areas outside of Nairobi to evaluate
the immediate medical needs of the area’s citizens.

Flying over “The Big Water,” as some of my relatives call it, was a bit
scary before I even got on the plane. But British Airways
www.britishairways.com was WONDERFUL. They accommodate flights from most
major U.S. cities and fly easily to London’s major airline hubs. Mine
were London Gatwick Airport and Heathrow Airport. My entire flying time
totaled 20 hours, and I traveled from Dallas-Fort Worth to Gatwick and
then from Heathrow to Nairobi, Kenya. We even had enough time enroute
from one airport to the other to go through some of the rural parts of
London, getting a glimpse of London’s version of an area amusement park.
And talk about green. It’s an emerald paradise even in the morning.
London was a cool delight (the humidity in the aftermath of the
hurricanes had swelled Dallas temperatures to the mid-90s, which felt
like the low 100s). Getting to London in the early morning around 6, we
were greeted with temperatures ranging from 55 to 65 degrees with no
humidity.

We arrived at our hotel sleepy, but well-fed (in flights like this, the
crew feeds you three, good, full-course meals), excited, still a little
scared, but happy to be in a place where we genuinely felt at home and
were welcomed with even more acceptance than could ever be imagined in
the U.S. And talk about a nice place to stay. Our week in Nairobi was
highlighted by our stay at the Grand Regency Hotel,
www.grandregency.co.ke/. The hotel takes away any preconceived notion of
Third World, which most people tend to think of when there is any
mention of Africa. The staff looks just like you and goes out of its way
to make sure you are accommodated to the utmost of their abilities.
Also, here a U.S. dollar goes a long way. Many of the hotel staffers
work in multiple capacities to make more money, so out of good foreign
traveler etiquette, leave at least $1 as a tip for the hard-working
staff and make sure you take time to make eye contact and speak clearly
to the staff so that all of your needs are met. They will definitely
make sure you are well taken care of since you are, at last, home.