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.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Friday, August 20, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Mother to her Son
As I'm sitting here reflecting on the fact that my son's birthday is less than a week away, I of course go back to this entire journey with him. It has been a short one, but it feels like I've known him my entire life. He has brought so much joy to me and has definitely softened my heart.
I think back to when I was trying to convince my husband that we were ready for a child. He tried to give every reason why we should wait another year, but I was ready. I finally convinced him and we began trying. Month after month we would try and nothing would happen. Then I received great advice from my mom...I followed through and the rest is history.
I think back to that day when I found out I was pregnant. It was actually a bittersweet moment - it was also the day my grandmother died and my unborn child would never get a chance to meet her (on Earth). I couldn't be sad in that moment because I felt like God took her away and filled me with a gift.
My pregnany was a pleasant one. I never had morning sickness, I didn't have my normal vertigo, I gained 23 pounds and I was cute as a button. All Belly is what the Doctor said..."You know you can be one of those pregnant models". "You do pregnant well" the doctor would say. You were an active fellow - even in my belly. After I got off from work you would always go to work...it's like you knew I was off and it was playtime.
The day you were born, I was on my way to work and you kicked me extremely hard and splash, my water broke like in the movies. I arrived at Northside around 9, got in my room around 10, had an epidural around 12 and u were born at 3:43 pm. It was the best workday of my life. You were soooo tiny and still are...Five pounds, 4 ounces nineteen and a half inches long. I nursed you soon after and I've been in love ever since.
It's something about the love a mother has for her son, I can't quite describe it. It's something that we have that no one can take away. As fathers are the protectors of their daughters - mothers are the protectors of their sons.
Now your second birthday is quickly approaching and I've watched you go through so many milestones and changes. It was nearly two years ago that you swelled my belly and God graced you on this Earth. It was nearly two years ago I swaddled you and watched you sleep. It was nearly two years ago I dropped you off at daycare for the first time and cried all day long. It was a year ago you said Momma and Daddy and took your first step. It was a year ago you received your first hair cut. It was a couple of months ago you began singing in the car and telling me "No" and "Move". It was about a month ago you gave up the pacifier. In between all this, I've felt joy, pain, hurt, sadness, love, rejection, appreciation, fright, gratitude, solitude, fulfillment, ungratefulness, grace, mercy, defeat, enlightenment, proudness and a host of other emotions.
But above all, I feel blessed and honored to have given birth to such an amazing son. Isaiah I love you with everything inside of me and you have forever changed me as a woman, a person, a wife and a mother. I pray that God continues to bless you and be the guiding force in your life.
Love always...mommy
I think back to when I was trying to convince my husband that we were ready for a child. He tried to give every reason why we should wait another year, but I was ready. I finally convinced him and we began trying. Month after month we would try and nothing would happen. Then I received great advice from my mom...I followed through and the rest is history.
I think back to that day when I found out I was pregnant. It was actually a bittersweet moment - it was also the day my grandmother died and my unborn child would never get a chance to meet her (on Earth). I couldn't be sad in that moment because I felt like God took her away and filled me with a gift.
My pregnany was a pleasant one. I never had morning sickness, I didn't have my normal vertigo, I gained 23 pounds and I was cute as a button. All Belly is what the Doctor said..."You know you can be one of those pregnant models". "You do pregnant well" the doctor would say. You were an active fellow - even in my belly. After I got off from work you would always go to work...it's like you knew I was off and it was playtime.
The day you were born, I was on my way to work and you kicked me extremely hard and splash, my water broke like in the movies. I arrived at Northside around 9, got in my room around 10, had an epidural around 12 and u were born at 3:43 pm. It was the best workday of my life. You were soooo tiny and still are...Five pounds, 4 ounces nineteen and a half inches long. I nursed you soon after and I've been in love ever since.
It's something about the love a mother has for her son, I can't quite describe it. It's something that we have that no one can take away. As fathers are the protectors of their daughters - mothers are the protectors of their sons.
Now your second birthday is quickly approaching and I've watched you go through so many milestones and changes. It was nearly two years ago that you swelled my belly and God graced you on this Earth. It was nearly two years ago I swaddled you and watched you sleep. It was nearly two years ago I dropped you off at daycare for the first time and cried all day long. It was a year ago you said Momma and Daddy and took your first step. It was a year ago you received your first hair cut. It was a couple of months ago you began singing in the car and telling me "No" and "Move". It was about a month ago you gave up the pacifier. In between all this, I've felt joy, pain, hurt, sadness, love, rejection, appreciation, fright, gratitude, solitude, fulfillment, ungratefulness, grace, mercy, defeat, enlightenment, proudness and a host of other emotions.
But above all, I feel blessed and honored to have given birth to such an amazing son. Isaiah I love you with everything inside of me and you have forever changed me as a woman, a person, a wife and a mother. I pray that God continues to bless you and be the guiding force in your life.
Love always...mommy
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