The beginning

Breath....
Time to come back from a relapse of a twitter spitter
making my mark and flippin sparks on these marks
that have their marks marked
Breathe...
I spelled it incorrectly neglectfully the first time
But my mind wasn't focusing on spellings
it was more focused on
dwellings
or feelings
or bleedings
too many in the season to make a treason
for rhyme or for reason
for thought of misleading
and we're caught up in the situation for a lack of reading
we read the b.s. all the nonsense
but when it's time to crack
a book open for knowledge
we become a political hostage
unknowing unwilling
to understand the dealings
of the masterminded reelings
play by play it's like a movie
written for actors in a world of pretend
will u descend from ur sin
and be a born again King
will your wings branch off into a neverending thing
will you bring forth change to this world that we're in
what will be ur begin ginning or your end ding

Up Up and Away

It's only a week away - my trip to the Dominican Republic that is. I've been anticipating this trip since I booked it sometime last year. Anticipating its beauty and picturesque scenery - the ocean a teal green with white sandy beaches and the sun rays bouncing off of the ocean - yeah I can smell it now. Listening to the waves push against the land and crashing upon the sand. It's a relaxation I've been looking forward to. Leaving my son behind is one of those things that I'm totally not prepared for - I mean are we ever? Isaiah is always with me - I've never slept away from him so I'm sure this will be an adjustment for me as well. But in actuality, my husband and me really need a vacation to enjoy ourselves - couples need that time to enjoy themselves without the kids. So this is my preparation blog about the Dominican Republic. Stay tuned...as pics and stories will follow.

The Time Tables of Time

The days go by so fast
Since we're grown with a family
We can't catch up on time
Time adds up like a calorie
But sadly and madly I feel like
Time is being lost
So caught with life's moments
And the costs
of it all
When Fall quickly turns into Winter
And the Winter's are so cold
You hurry in to Spring to warm the mold of your soul
Summer peeps just in an instant
Then it's Christmas again
Your toddler is no longer an infant
Your big boy is no longer a toddler
and the season is once again hotter
You keep putting off those things you dream
but in the scheme of it all - there's not enough TIME
So it seems
Checks runs into checks
Days run in months
We keep running into to each other
Well less like running - more like bumps
Accomplishments are getting lost
Under the bustle of your hustle
Your love is being drowned
By Good byes and I love you's
What do you feel like eating
And Take out the garbage
And in the middle of it all
There's sex, food, silence,
Arguments and make ups
As the seasons change
And the holidays roll around
And our son goes off to college
From those days on the playground
And our beautiful brown hairs
become a misted gray
I'll love you the same
As when I did on our wedding day
When our tightly bound skin
becomes aged and worn
I'll still love you the same
As the day our son was born
When our eyes can barely see
And our ears can't hear a tone
I'll still love you the same
As I did when you had your PrimeCo. phone
You see it doesn't matter the time
The place or the season
I'll love you while I have time
Because time has no reason
Time takes us all
At some time or another
So let's tick the time away
While we still have each other

Little Black Boy

Born unto your mother she dreams
of all the things she wishes you to be
the aspirations she never did see
That God blesses you abundantly

Born unto your father he knows
of all the hurts and all the sorrows
the trials you'll face
Disrespect and Disgrace
Because you hold blackness in a white space

Little Black Boy, Little Black Boy
Oh where did you go
Are you hiding from me
From the place we all know
Did you spiral from me
To a place called "out of control"
Are you hurting inside
Do you shelter your soul
Break free little black boy
Break Free
Show your face to me - show it to me
So that I can feel what you feel
So we can begin to heal
To put this pain behind you
So that we can begin to find you
Your eyes will surely remind you
Of the little black boy you once were
When innocence was pure
When life was uncruel
When you said you'd be a policeman
Before the world made you a mule
Before your father left you abandoned
And your mother has to over - compensate
For a man who left her stranded
And her heart is filled with hate
Because how could you leave your own
The one who you helped create
She wanted to have time to come to your games
to go to PTA meetings
to stay on top of your grades
to cook for your everynight
to keep you out of preditors' sight
to show you a better life
But life happened
And SHE had to make things happen
She had to work all night
So that you could have lights
She had to leave you alone
So you could have a place to call home
She had to work nights and days
She was too tired to worry about grades
So you fell by the waist side
Allowing the streets to be your guide
Coming and going as you please
While your mother's bleeding knees
are sore because she continues to believe
that a break through will come

And that once faded dream
has been tainted by the screams
of a policeman with a barrel pointed
hands behind your back - fall to your knees
"submit to me"
BOY
Nigger
You ain't shit
You ain't gonna be shit
You just like ur daddy
Good for nuthing NIGGER

Don't embrace it Little Black Boy
Don't embrace it
ERACE IT
REBUKE IT
Remember...Remember who you are
Remember who you WERE
Those twinkling eyes
With dreams and aspirations
before life's ugly hand
dealt you a hand of degradations

Little Black Boy - Little Black Boy
I know it's tough
But your little black girl will stand by you
when you've felt you had enough
When no one cares and no one listens
God listens and he cares
He'll cradle you upon his shoulders
And relieve all of your despare
He'll lift you up in ways
you've never been lifted before
He'll open every door thats been closed
and open even more
He'll tell you he loves you
no matter what you do
Because he gave his son to suffer
So that you wouldn't have to
He'll love you with all of your flaws
He'll love you until you die
He'll love to make you a better you
And guess what Little Black Boy - So will I

Little Black Boy - Little Black Boy
Please come back home
To create that foundation
that has been long gone
We need you Little Black Boy
So that our community can once again be
Full of beautiful little black boys
And little black girls like me.

Not By Accident

As I sit at my 9-5 (more like 8:30 - 5) I'm trying to figure out a way to break free. Don't get me wrong, I love my job (the more creative parts of it), I love the story behind the mission, the people are okay, but with all that something's missing.



The economy has continued to fall as unemployment continues to rise, poverty continues to climb, crime continues to inflate, prisons continue to be built, schools continue to be closed, the price of homes continue to rise, the forclosure rate continues to rise and a plethora of ups and downs. As "Americans" (I always try to use that word loosely) we are upset and depressed, fed up and disgusted. We are looking for someone to blame. Is it Bush's fault for dragging us into a war with no merit - searching for weapons of mass destruction (and not finding a one)? Dragging on for years and years, plugging billions of dollars into a country that is already flourishing in the land of milk and honey for it's rich oil resources. Is it Obama's fault for finding short fixes to an economy that was already in a whole by digging the whole even deeper - leaving a tremendous debt to our children and grandchildren. As he takes on too many issues at once patching their holes instead fixing the problem.



I've come to the realization that this is no one person's fault or no one party's fault. Just as individuals, every one has their season of prosperity and famine. This is America's season of famine. And sure it's easy to point the finger and say, It's Bush's fault #damnrepublicans - It's Obama's fault #damndemocrats. But through observation, meditation and having conversations with God (yes I talk to my Lord) I have realized that whether Bush, Clinton, Obama, Hilliary, Hoover, Kennedy were in office, this was America's ordained time and place to go through this economical downturn.



As the economy seems to be picking up slightly I have evaluated my current job situtation and tried to implement getting a Master's Degree in Speech Pathology. In the meantime, my husband was laid off from his job, but through the power of praying and being faithful to God he is currently working again. I began looking at the Program at GSU and what would it take for me to be accepted into the program. I would need a 3.0 GPA, GRE scores, an essay and letters of recommendation (they recommend getting these from professors and/or guidanace counselors). I have not taken my GRE yet and quite frankly I don't feel like it (I'm so over standardized test - either accept me into your program or not) and I don't really think any of my college professors and/or counselors remember me. I went to UNO and I was close with hardly any of my professors. But I said to myself, I have to do this, this is my only way to find a career I could be happy with and be able to find a job any where I go in the county. So then I started digging into the program even more in depth. They only accept about 18 students per year and they expect their students to NOT work due to the demanding clinical schedules that this program has. I figured okay, in a couple of years, I won't have to work and then I can dedicate my time to school.



The more and more I began to look inside myself the more the truth began to pore out. You see sometimes you have to be honest with yourself and stop trying to convince yourself of an idea that is totally not you. I realized I don't feel like taking the GRE and I don't feel like dedicating 3 years of school all over again. I'm a grown woman with a family and my family falls second to God. I want to invest my time and efforts in my God and in my family - not in school. All of this inside of me is brewing up while I'm doing other things for work that I'm truly growing an interest in. So I speak outloud one day, I need to work from home. I see a lot of people doing contract work working from home and making great money doing it. So I throw an idea out to my husband and he was all for it. The following day I went to church and it felt like the speaker we had visiting our church was speaking directly to me. She spoke about acting on your dreams and making money at doing what you're good at. This was something I had been pondering the entire month.



I came to the conclusion that God gives us everything we need - and it is up to us to dig what he has put on the inside of us and make it a reality. You don't necessarily need a Master's degree or a Doctorate - all you need is what God has given you on the inside and the drive to make it happen.



So just to tie all of this together, because you may be wondering where I'm going with this. Living in this economic climate that we're currently living in, I've learned that sometimes God has to bring us to our knees so that we can stand on our own...and so that he would get the glory. Looking at life with natural eyes - things seem tough, unmanageable and impossible. But looking at the world through the eyes of the supernatural - all things are possible through the Lord Christ Jesus. I have decided not to let this economy dictate my destiny. God did not send his son to die for me for me to be unhappy and complacent in a undesireable position. He wants me to be blessed and to have everything my heart desires. God wants to spoil me, but first he wants to see how much I want it and how badly I'm willing to work for it. God knows my spirit - he knows me inside and out. He knows what type of person I am - what I'm good at and not so good at. He has given me an idea that will free me from the bondage of having a "job". No longer will I have to seek employment, but others will seek me. I thank God for the seed he has planted in my head. Now it is my job to water that seed so that it can grow and flourish. And with everything in me, through the guidance of God and the support of my family - I will carry out God's plan and give him all the honor for impregnating my mind and giving life to a seed that had been stillborn inside me the whole time.

More Than a Job

As the 5th Anniversary of Katrina creeps upon us, my mind goes back 5 years. A lot has happened in 5 years. I was married in December of '05 and moved to Georgia on December 27th '05. Worked for Jane Fonda and met some of her celebrity friends - made some new friends of my own. I purchased a home (with my husband of course), went on a cruise, had a baby, quit my first job, started a new job, joined a church, watched my husband's baptism, witnessed the Saints first Superbowl victory, got my first ticket, and a host of other things. Five years sounds like a long time, but really it goes by in a flash. When I first moved to Georgia, you couldn't tell me that I would be here 5 years - I gave this place 2 years. And though I am in Georgia...I am forever a Louisiana cajun girl. It's embedded in me, it's etched in my soul. I talk it, I walk it...I wear New Orleans on my sleeves...I bear it on my shoulders - I can't help it - It's home.

But as I reminisce about Katrina - there's one thing that always comes to mind that may surprise you. I always think about my first job out of college, The DDay Museum (as it was called then) now The National World War II Museum.

I remember that Friday when everyone else had left their jobs and was beginning their weekend, I was working. We had a WWII quiz night (and I forgot the correct name for this event). But I always really enjoyed working events at the DDay Museum because I knew I would be fed and have some wine. We would always have fun - well I would. But earlier that day I made a joke to Nick Mueller's assistant at the time (whose name was Katrina) - I told her don't come to New Orleans messing with us - go back to Florida. We both laughed it off. As the night whined down we all went our separate ways and gave our "have a good weekend - see ya Monday" goodbyes. Not knowing that would be the last time I would see some of those faces.

Friday when I arrived home, I had spoken to one of my friends, Cristina, who was a bridesmaid in my wedding. The bridesmaid dresses had come in and we were going to the shop the next day - being Saturday - to pick up her dress. She called me and said, "We're gonna have to go next weekend cause looks like the hurricane is coming this way." I know she can't be serious I thought...when I looked at the news this morning it was going to Florida.

That same night my husband (my fiance at the time) and I went to the Sonic on Veterans and it was crazy packed. The gas stations were jammed from one end to the next. When I saw this, I know it's serious. My brother called me on the phone and asked what were we going to do. I told him I don't know, we'll wait until tomorrow.

Saturday came and I went to the grocery store for something - I can't remember - but it was packed. People were buying all the water, bread, vienna sausages, batteries, etc... When I arrived back home, Pharaoh was like Shannon we have to go...like right now...the storm is coming straight to New Orleans. He had already talked to his mom and sister and they were all heading out that day. He made the arrangements with a hotel in Galveston, TX for my family and his. I had to call my mom and see what she was doing. So Pharaoh decided that he would pick up his mom and sister and head out that Saturday night. In the meanwhile I searched for my parents and my cousin Alana. I knew we would evacuate because that's what we did. We never waited around for the city's mandatory evacuation call. I was trying to reach my mom, but the phones were busy - I couldn't get through to anyone. Then I remembered she was at a funeral that day at O.L.G., so I drove my butt to Reserve to find my mom. Oddly enough I found her, but she didn't see me. So I followed her and got her on the phone, in which she tells me that she's going to my Aunt Bunny's house to get something to eat. I tell her, we need to go, the hurricane is coming straight to New Orleans. She's shocked...I'm shocked that she's shocked because my mom watches the news 24-7. So we all left out that Sunday morning (me, my parents, Alana and her 2 kids, my Aunt Bunny and her 2 kids).

Watching the news was heart wrenching, but at first it didn't look that bad. We all thought we could go on back home. But then the levees gave way..............

Trying to call people on the phone was like a dog chasing his tail. Hurricane Katrina taught my mom how to text message. I finally got in touch with some people from my job and we decided to do weekly conference calls with our Department.

The next few months would be trying. Me and my fiance had to move back in with my mother, we weren't working (actually going to a physical building), there was no housing, trying to reach FEMA to get assistance, on the phone holding, Red Crossing, Food Stamping, electricity at mom's house keep going out, no stores open, no water, no ice, no bread, no milk, when stores finally opened their only allowing so many people in at a time. This was only the half of it. Trying to find friends and loved ones, insurance companies, flies, big ASS mosquitos, time, time, time, time, time steadily passing, yet it felt like we were standing still. All of this and I'm trying to plan a wedding for December 9th. How am I suppose to do this. Maybe this is a sign that I shouldn't get married...maybe this is a sign.

But through all this, on a weekly basis, I would look forward to hearing from my co-workers. Before the meeting, we'd discuss FEMA and insurance companies and our families...it was great. The Museum unfortunately had to let 60% of the staff go, but they kept the Development team, Accounting, and the History Dept (and a few others I think).

The Museum wouldn't open up for a while - but we got word that the staff was to report to work in October (I forget the date - I think it was the 6th or the 10th). I didn't know how to feel about this. I had not been to work in so long I had gotten used to not doing anything. I guess I didn't realize that I was depressed. Driving back to the Museum was soooo hard - the city looked deserted and desolate, forgotten and untold. I cried as I drove pass the Superdome. I cried hard - uncontrollably. I had to get myself together, I was almost at work. Driving on the streets was strange - it felt unsafe because I didn't see one face...only police cars and army trucks. I felt like a stranger in my own home. I cried more...get it together Shannon, your always the strong one.

My stomach ached walking up to the building where the Development offices were located. As I walked in - a load was lifted. I saw Stephen, and Trish, and Joe and I hugged them all. It was the best feeling to see them all - BREATHE.... I felt a little bit of normality in my life although things were far from normal. So everyday I would go to work - even if I didn't have as much to do - I WENT TO WORK. And when everything in my world had just been turned upside down, that part was right side up.

What's Real Hip Hop

Often times I hear people say or use the term "real hip-hop". I mean, I've caught myself saying it as well, when speaking upon artists who I believe epitamize the essence of what is believed to be hip-hop music. But before I go farther, I'd like to first define the word real because if we're not saying it's real hip hop then we are saying it's fake hip-hop. Then I will examine this term hip-hop.

I'm really big on word play and truth in definitions. So as I began to read and hear this phrase being thrown around casually like the new phrase "no homo", to be used by men after complimenting another man or saying something - that in their minds - sounds gay, I started to ponder..."What in the hell is REAL hip-hop?" "What or constitutes if it is REAL or NOT."
Using the Internet's Dictionary site, the term Real is defined as: true; not merely ostensible, nominal, or apparent, existing or occurring as fact; actual rather than imaginary, ideal, or fictitious: a story taken from real life. being an actual thing; having objective existence; not imaginarygenuine; not counterfeit, artificial, or imitation; authentic.

Now when looking at the term Hip-Hop or Rap Music (What it was called in the 80's and 90's) the term is described as a popular music style comprising elements of rap and soul, featuring a mixture of soulful vocals and raps, with a syncopated beat and often using samples from other recordings.

So in actuality the term real-hip hop really means rapping or putting stories together about events that actually have taken place. But our generation or generations before mine who categorizes "real hip-hop" as hip-hop that's gutter and raw and what it was when it originated has the game twisted. Mean what you say and say what you mean. So basically all rappers who lie in their raps should not be labeled Real Hip Hop. If we say that then we should say that all Rap music is fabricated to an extent. Sure there are rappers who are honest and transparent in their music, but even they lie about something or another from time to time. It's human nature!

So here is my stance as far as Rap Music is concerned because I don't want to call it hip hop anymore. I feel like the word "hip-hop" is a culture not a genre of music. The type of music is RAP music, people who perform RAP music are called RAPPERS...not HIP HOPPERS. Back in the day it was called Rap music, not Hip Hop music. I didn't start hearing the term hip-hop until the nineties when "the Man" realized that this form of music was profitable and glorified. Wanted his hands in it and renamed it HIP HOP because Rap Music had a bad image. Rap Music was associated with NWA and 2 Live Crew and Run DMC and LL Cool J. Hip Hop is more main stream, associated with Jay Z and Biggie and The Roots and Nas and Common...yeah, let's call it Hip Hop.

I feel like Rap Music is what you make it. There's no such thing as Real Hip Hop or Fake Hip Hop...real artists or fake artists, only genuine people and fake people...genuine material and fake material. It's music. Ever changing and evolving with the generations that come behind one another. New artists popping up leaving there mark on this music that so many of us are so passionate about. So passionate about it that we're willing to have a fall out argument over who is the hottest rapper or who is the coldest lyricist. Our tastes are different in music...who you may love, I may dislike...who I think is the hottest in the game you may think is a waste of time to listen to. It doesn't matter. It's music. It's the soundtrack to our lives. It gets us through a tough day. It helps us work out. It gets us fired up. It lifts our spirits. It gets us ready to go out. It's inspiring. It's amazing. It's ART. And everyone's painting is different. You just have to respect their artform...even if you don't like it or wouldn't buy that painting...it's still ART.

Much love to each and every rapper, musician, songwriter, singer, producer and dj. I respect your crafts - keep doing you.