Dictionary.com defines the word ‘purpose’ as follows: ‘the reason for which something exists or is done, made, used, etc.; an intended or desired result; end; aim; goal.’
Well, by that definition, one might believe and embrace that purpose is singular.
Reason.
Result.
End.
Aim.
Goal.
Humbly, long before stumbling across this article on LinkedIn, I’ve subscribed to the belief that this need not be. After all, it’s not the case with water, one of our most vital resources. Water is used for drinking, bathing, cooking, washing clothes, regulating our body our temperature, nourishing lawns, gardens, and plants, and a host of other things.
As another valuable resource, why should it be with us?
At an intersection of my growing disdain with corporate life and a desire to pursue more meaningful work that spoke to my essence, it was around this time three years ago that I met the requirements to become a Substitute Teacher in the Allentown School District, located in the Lehigh Valley section of Pennsylvania.
A couple of months into my role, I met *Rakim, (I’ve changed his name to protect his identity) a tall and big for his age second grader in the class to which I was assigned for the day. Due to his behavior the previous day, an assistant warned me that he would be a problem. I thanked her, advised her that I would speak with him, and expressed confidence that we would be fine.
I called Rakim over to my desk, introduced myself, and asked him about what happened in class the previous day. He explained that he acted out the way that he did in response to being bullied by other kids. He ‘reasoned’ that if the other kids saw him ‘wilding out,’ they would think that he was ‘crazy’ and wouldn’t bother him. I acknowledged his ‘rationale,’ but explained that turning over desks, yelling, and throwing things was not the way to handle that. I suggested better ways to deal with this issue and explained to him how I could help. He listened, then went back to his desk so that we could start class. All told, Rakim, the class, and I had a pretty decent day.
My rotation as a District Substitute Teacher (for slightly higher pay, I received my assignments on the day of based on need instead of ahead of time) brought me back to Rakim’s school a couple of weeks later. While standing in a hallway waiting to enter the class I was assigned for the day, he approached me. Looking up with a sense of wonder, he said these words that I’ll never forget:
“Where were you? I needed you. I didn’t ever want you to leave.”
Surprised and touched, I explained to Rakim that I have different assignments each day and I was asked to serve at another school. We chatted for a little bit longer and after walking away, he came back and gave me the piece of candy pictured in this post. I accepted it as his way of saying that our connection meant something to him.
I was blessed to have different types of success when I worked in corporate America for the better part of 25 years. But no promotion, bonus, title, company car, or award can compete with Rakim’s simple words and gesture that day at Jefferson Elementary.
Today is the first day that the Covid-19 vaccine was administered to a resident of New York State. In the midst of a harrowing experience in a state where more than 10% of the almost 300,000 Americans who have succumbed to this virus have occurred, prayerfully, this represents hope for us all as we close the chapter on what has been a devastating year for many.
However, in the midst of what many would recognize as a significant advancement, we are forced to confront behavior that clearly meets the definition of regression. Described by Rev. Dr. Ianther M. Mills, Senior Pastor of Washington, D.C.’s Ashbury Church, as “reminiscent of cross burnings,” scores of 45 supporters chose to express their outrage regarding his 7,000,000+ popular and 74 electoral votes deficit by tearing down and burning Black Lives Matter banners.
At a church.
Without coming across as self-righteous, how hard does one’s heart have to be to demonstrate that degree of angst towards a church? How strongly does hate have to reign? What role does indifferent entitlement play?
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
With all due respect to Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and Jiles J. P. Richardson, also known as ‘The Big Bopper,’ all immortalized in Don McLean’s 1971 hit song ‘American Pie,’ for his legions of fans throughout the world, this day 56 years ago was truly the ‘day that music died.’
In a still controversial end to a fascinating life, singer, songwriter, entrepreneur, and activist Sam Cooke was shot to death in the early morning of December 11, 1964. Revered as a Gospel singer while a member of the legendary group The Soul Stirrers from late 1950 until the middle of 1957, Mr. Cooke blazed a trail as, arguably, a singer without peer in Pop, R&B, and Soul music. Having sang his last note almost 46 prior to their debated list of the Top 100 Singers of All Time, Sam ranked number four, with only Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, and Elvis Presley (really?) placed ahead of him.
To many, with due deference to Frank Sinatra, Sam Cooke was the best singer who ever lived. After watching this performance from The Ed Sullivan Show of his #1 song You Send Me back in December 1957, you might be inclined to agree.
Juxtapose this, if you will, with the current attack under which the US finds itself, engineered, mind you, by the very individual charged with the responsibility of leading it: the outgoing President.
In its simplest form, the folks at Wikipedia define muscle memory as follows: “a type of memory acquired and used subconsciously that can affect one’s thoughts and behaviors by enabling them to perform certain tasks without conscious awareness of previous experiences.” Some examples are tying your shoes or riding a bike.
It was here in Harlem that I learned to be resourceful.
It was here in Harlem where I learned to excel.
It was here in Harlem where I learned the importance and role of discipline.
It was here in Harlem where I learned to study.
And it was here in Harlem where I learned to compete.
And about six months shy of leaving 30 years ago, this place and those behaviors are very much a part of me as I strive to make my mark as an actor, print model, and voice over artist.
For lack of a better term, the sh*tshow on display during these can’t-come-too-soon final days of this administration is nothing, if not fascinatingly self-indulgent and embarrassing.
As we near closing out the month of November on this Thanksgiving weekend, the world, US health officials in particular, are keenly focused on what they expect to happen with the Covid-19 infection rate during the new few weeks.
However, on this day, in light of the number stories and events during the past several months that have focused on providing members of the Black community greater access to opportunities they have been denied in the past, I’m choosing to look at this day from a different perspective.
According to the folks at Alcohol.com, alcohol is a drug that can “jack up the amount of norepinephrine present in the brain; this neurotransmitter acts as a stimulant, Psychology Today publishes. Elevated levels of norepinephrine increase arousal and excitement, and it can lower your inhibitions and increase impulsivity, making it hard for you to consider potential consequences of your actions.”
Well, lowered inhibition and increased impulsivity exposed “Joe” of Issaquah, WA for who he is at his core. Asked to wear a mask by his Lyft driver to protect all present and future parties, from his no longer inhibited core, he and his companion let loose with a series of epithets and threats that were all captured on film.
Fully exposed by the workings of ethanol, both he and his lady are now unemployed AND looking for a new place to live.
So, Dig It, Y’all... 