Tuesday...

Did you see this picture of track star Usain Bolt?



I still miss Aaliyah...

Teaching Woes...

OMFG! This is going to be one loooong year! I have some very low students!

What do you do when an AP student writes an essay analyzing the central question in The Scarlet Letter from the perspective that Nathaniel Hawthorne is a woman?

What do you do when a student refuses to give you his legal name? “Yo, man, you just call me Blaackk! My peoples just call me Blaaackk, man.”

What do you do when you give an assignment to assess student understanding and five kids just look at the paper? And what do you do when you reteach the material to the whole class, only to have the same five students just look at the paper on the retest?

What do you do when an AP student spells corner, curner?

And to think I am getting paid $900 less this year due to furloughs! And if anyone dares tell me that I am just lucky to have a job…

Caption this picture and let me get my life!

A little voice, part two...

It was not until the next day that I came to realize what I should have realized from the very beginning.

I woke up Sunday, down and out, and went to church and it was while in church that I realized that my life could be so much worse. Regardless of a bad day, I had no right to be down and out. My minister is battling leukemia and will have a stem cell transplant. He’ll be out for at least six months. Again, things could be so much worse. My grandmother is successfully battling her cancer and feels better. I have a house to live in and a boyfriend to help me make it a home. I have friends to support me and a career that I am passionate about. And that little voice was trying to remind me of that all along…

Inside of each of us is that same little voice and too often, many- just like me- ignore it. When I listened to the voice (taking money out of my account earlier in that day, checking the account before running up a tab), I was doing what God wanted me to do. When I ignored the voice, I was ignoring God’s voice in me. Simple really.

I am broke, but I am so blessed.

A Little Voice, Part One...

We all have those days that just really can be unbelievably bad, but Saturday has to go down as one of my worst days of 2009.

The day started with my alarm not going off. I woke up at 7:46 and had an 8:00 class. (I did blog about being an adjunct at a local college, right? If not, I do that two days a week…) Oddly enough, last week was our first class and the majority of the students discussed how they hate late professors. The only thing that woke me up was some little voice inside of me that said, “Corey look at the clock.”

I made it to class, by a true miracle, at 8:10 and luckily the main student who complains on late instructors was absent.

Saturday evening, Parker and I went running around Stone Mountain. We were going to also hike up the mountain, but it started raining. Our workout was cut short.

Saturday night, I arranged for some friends to meet at Joe’s on Juniper for drinks and to celebrate Parker’s new internship. Uncle Mallory, however, sent a text instructing everyone to meet at Loca Luna instead. So we go there, arrive at 10, and on one else is there except for Parker and me. I go to the bar and get a mojito (my absolute FAVORITE drink) and a voice tells me to check my account balance. I do so to find that my account is under $200!

I call my bank to find out that I made massive purchases in Meridia, Mexico and Daoukro, Ivory Coast. Of course I have never heard of either of these citites, let alone visited them. I am told that I cannot do anything about these pending charges until Monday. Luckily, a little voice told me to take out $100 from the bank after I left class.

By the time everyone finally arrives at Loca Luna (except for Uncle Mallory, who oddly never showed), our table is gone and the wait is over an hour. We decide to just go to Joe’s on Juniper (my original suggestion to Fe Fe earlier that day).

We head to Joe’s and Parker and I get caught in the Paul McCartney Go Green Concert Traffic. A ten minute drive took us almost an hour. By the time we finally arrive, I am so perturbed, I am no longer hungry.

The story is not over, however…

Hey, you there...

Have you heard the Soulja Boy Tell 'Em Song, "Hey You There?" I am wondering what this song is about... It seems bubbling with homoeroticism...




Any thoughts on Eminem calling Nick Cannon a faggot? He might win some, but he just lost one...

What becomes of the broken-hearted?

Opening of Invisible Life:
“There is something poetic about falling in love. The tingling sensation lingers like the lyrical words of a Langston Hughes poem. There is something romantic about the changing of seasons. A romance reminiscent of an unending summer, or one as fleeting as spring and fall. Whenever I think back on the loves of my life, I am often reminded of the seasons. There are four seasons. I have been in love four times.”

My heart is heavy and I am remiss at the passing of E. Lynn Harris. Through his writings- the rich, varied and conflicted characters, the fast paced plots- I learned more about myself than any “American classic” could ever reveal.

Growing up in rural Mississippi provided few opportunities for exposure to black gay men. It was through Raymond and Kyle and Basil that I was able to see that tomorrow would be better than today. It was the first kiss the Raymond and Kevin shared that let me know that I was not alone. Whenever E. Lynn Harris released a new book, I was always in Barnes and Nobles on the release day, member card in hand, ready to purchase.

I grieved when Kyle died and I grieve now.

There is already a void in canon of black literature and that void just grew immensely. There are few black writers of note contributing to the cannon of American Literature. E. Lynn Harris carried the torch that James Baldwin lit.
Raymond taught me professionalism and Basil taught me passion. Zurich taught me that it was alright to love me for me and Yancy taught me to let go of the past so that I could embrace the future.

My heart is heavy.

Dare I say that E. Lynn Harris was the most well-known black gay man in the United States?

While Keith Boykin’s activism is more recognized within the black gay community and within the nation’s intellectual community, it is E. Lynn Harris’s name that echoes in beauty salons around the nation during the week one of his newest releases hit book shelves.

Today, as I remember this author, this torch-bearer, I cannot help but wonder who will pick up his torch and carry it? I cannot help but wonder if we will become invisible once more.