Showing posts with label musings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label musings. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Ujima - Collective work and responsibility




Heri za Kwanzaa!

Kwanzaa is a time for spiritual reflection, a festive and joyous holiday...a cultural celebration. Kwanzaa has no ties to a particular religion. It is practiced by African people of all faiths, who come together based on their rich, ancient and varied common African heritage. Today, the seven-day observance of the Kwanzaa holiday is celebrated by millions of African-Americans and Africans around the world.


Habari gani?  Ujima 

(Collective work and responsibility)


"To build and maintain our community together and to make our brother's and sister's problems, our problems and to solve them together."

Ujima, as principle and practice, means that we accept the fact that we are collectively responsible for our failures and setbacks as well as our victories and achievements. And this holds true not only on the national level, but also on the level of family and organization or smaller units. Such a commitment implies and encourages a vigorous capacity for self-criticism and self-correction which is indispensable to our strength, defense and development as a people.

SOURCE: "The African American Holiday of Kwanzaa: A Celebration of Family Community & Culture"
by Maulana Karenga, University of Sankore Press, Los Angeles, California, 1988, ISBN 0-943412-09-9




Debi Mason, Teller
Oby House Projects - Spoken Word Ministries
Storyin' With Auntie D - National Association of Black Storytellers
www.facebook.com/obyhousetellers
@DebiOak
Debi Mason, author
Arizona Clay available via Amazon.com
What I Thought Was So Just Ain't - Available now at Amazon and Barnes & Noble


Tuesday, December 27, 2016

Kujichagulia - Self Determination




Heri za Kwanzaa!

Kwanzaa is a time for spiritual reflection, a festive and joyous holiday...a cultural celebration. Kwanzaa has no ties to a particular religion. It is practiced by African people of all faiths, who come together based on their rich, ancient and varied common African heritage. Today, the seven-day observance of the Kwanzaa holiday is celebrated by millions of African-Americans and Africans around the world.





Habari gani?  Kujichagulia (Self Determination)

The principle of Kujichagulia (Self-Determination) reaffirms the right and responsibility of every people to control their destiny and daily lives and to be respected as a unique and equally valid and valuable way of being human in the world. -- DR. MAULANA KARENGA  Telling our own  stories as only we can tell them.  Ashe.



Debi Mason, Teller
Oby House Projects - Spoken Word Ministries
Storyin' With Auntie D - National Association of Black Storytellers
National Storytelling Network
www.facebook.com/obyhousetellers
@DebiOak
Debi Mason, author
Arizona Clay available via Amazon.com
What I Thought Was So Just Ain't - Available now at Amazon and Barnes & Noble


 

Thursday, January 14, 2016

Mind Wonderings



Sometimes my mind wonders from thing to thing. 
Skipping with joy through fields and streams. 
Relishing moments of carefree freedom
Flying high on unbending time’s wing.

Sometimes when my mind wonders
God is directing my path
Babbling stream of sediment -
Dreams long ago past
Hope - a welcoming road that is clear
Fore the things I hold sacred 
Are things I hold near.
(c)2016, USA
www.facebook.com/obyhousetellers



Books by Debi Mason:

What I Thought Was So Just Ain't - Aging through God's Grace
Amazon.com (paperback)
Amazon.com (Kindle edition)
Barnes & Noble (paperback)
Barnes & Noble (NOOK edition)
ISBN-13: 978-0692236475
Release: June, 2014

Arizona Clay: A journey of self-discovery
Amazon.com (paperback)
Barnes & Noble (paperback)
ISBN-13: 9781606964880
Release: June, 2009

Follow me on Twitter:  @DebiOak

Monday, November 16, 2015

Granny's Porch, 2016 : preserving the art of story



Our fundraising campaign starts today! Follow this link: 


Opening in Oakland, California, February, 2016: Stories From Granny's Porch. This is a creative project of Oby House Productions featuring the artistry of Debi Mason. First presented on the Lyceum stage as part of the 14th Annual Kuumba Fest of the African American Council of the San Diego Repertory Theatre in 2006 Stories From Granny's Porch shares a view into the lives of those most affected by gentrification in America's cities. Told through the eyes of Granny Arilea Bell, these stories of Montezuma Streets most colorful characters come to life. Pre-production audiences have laughed out loud, shed a tear over the reality of homelessness, addiction and abuse and danced in the aisles to the jazz/blues and gospel rifts of a live combo of musicians. Want to support this project and have your name listed as a true patron of the arts? Search Go Fund Me for Granny's Porch and contribute today! We thank you and appreciate you greatly.







#oakager   #soulwriter 
Books by Debi Mason:
What I Thought Was So Just Ain't - Aging through God's Grace
Amazon.com (paperback)
Amazon.com (Kindle edition)
Barnes & Noble (paperback)
Barnes & Noble (NOOK edition)
ISBN-13: 978-0692236475
Release: June, 2014

Arizona Clay: A journey of self-discovery
Amazon.com (paperback)
Barnes & Noble (paperback)
ISBN-13: 9781606964880
Release: June, 2009
Follow me on Twitter:  @DebiOak















Friday, September 11, 2015

In the Shadow of 9/11




I will never forget the day. I was on my usual travel from Escondido into San Diego down the beautiful Pacific Coast Highway. I am praising the Lord as I watch the sunrise over the ocean and the cliffs  actually excited about the possibilities of the day.  I felt good and I am sure I looked better than I had in years.  I was saved, sanctified and sober. A lovely day.

My friend Mark was at his usual place selling the Tribune in the middle of the road. I always did think that this was an odd place to put a stop sign. Waiting to move forward I see that his cheerful good morning face was not there. He was but I noticed, as I sat there some five cars back, his well weathered face  had a look of something that I did not really understand.

You have to understand that Mark started my day five out of seven days a week.  I knew his story and he knew mine. We were both working a program and sometimes, I have to admit, in the year 2001 it was still a struggle for me.  Mark was what I needed to keep me sober for just one more day.  We never had long conversations just the one or two minutes it took for me to buy a morning paper and be on my way. But that one or two minutes meant so much to me and I am sure to him as well.  It was as though it was a daily confirmation that we can do this.  That strange little white man made a tremendous difference in my life and I doubt seriously if he ever realized it.
 
This day, September 11, 2001, started off strange. It was the end of a summer quickly approaching fall. Something just felt different.  I did not realize it at the time but there was a great shift happening in the spirit realm. I ignored it and turned up the gospel music and praised a little louder.

When it was my turn at the stop sign Mark leaned in and whispered, “They are bombing New York.”  “What?” I said, “Ain’t nobody bombing New York.”  He had that look of serious so I paid attention.  It really was happening and I felt like I was on some kind of drug trip. Suddenly that familiar feeling at the pit of my stomach coupled with a kind of nervousness that I knew so well, from years of being in trouble or about to be, welled up.

An idiot man behind me honked and startled me. No excuses but my first instinct was to flip him off which I did with such exuberance that when I looked in my rear view mirror I knew he got the message to not mess with me.  Making my way to the freeway entrance, I switched on the radio. Sure enough they were bombing New York.  Terrorists had high jacked a passenger plane and flown it into a building in crowded New York City.  It was later in the day that heard that another plane had crashed into the Pentagon and yet another had crashed in a field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

I’m not sure if we weren’t all feeling a fear that we had never felt before. The crowded 101 was moving in slow motion. Not one car was moving faster than 15 miles per hour.  All of the cars that we passed day after day and never paid much attention to now contained real people, with real lives, with real fear etched across their faces.  We looked at each other. I mean we really looked at each other that particular morning.  It was other worldly.

I reached my place of employment in time to see on the television the second plane hit the tower. None of us that were crowded around that small television could speak.  We watched the news coverage silently and then the unthinkable happened.  The towers fell.  A silent scream bubble up in my throat. Before they knew how to edit I saw what I didn’t want to see. I saw lives tumbling from that building. Bodies and body parts mixed in with everyday stuff . It was horrible and it is an image that cannot be erased even after all of these years. 

It wasn’t as though I had never seen such atrocities in foreign lands played out on the most powerful of all mediums -  the television screen.  These things happened everyday in some part of the world. Even the Oklahoma bombing paled in comparison.  As twisted as it may be, the Oklahoma bombing was an inside job. But the World Trade Center?  These were foreign folks that crossed that imaginary boundary that said that this kind of terrorism could never ever happen on our shores.  This was America after all.  This was sacred and protected territory, right?  We could never be hurt or harmed by anyone other than ourselves. Amen?

But it happened and the Trade Center did fall and three thousand plus souls were lost. No matter the color, the creed or politics their lives were erased and we were helpless.  This is what scared most Americans the most on that day. We finally realized that we’re not invincible.

My way of looking at America changed.  I like so many stopped being naïve. This country is a mess. We have in-house issues that we have not been fully addressed….racism, poverty, homelessness, gentrification, senior health and welfare, police brutality, immigration….   We have the power to change things for the better here and we don’t exercise that power.  We are so busy blaming the legislators, the president, the powers that be. We blame the Mexicans and the black folks and the poor and the baby boomers.  We blame everybody for everything and we waste time doing it. This is exactly where those that are looking from the outside in want us to be.  We are terrorized and full of fear. We are much like the lost platoon that sees movement in the jungle and they end up killing each other.


I am an American. I could not survive as a Syrian or anyone oppressed and shut out in a Third World country.  Am I privileged? Far from it. Does not anything that is happening in this city, this community, this country affect me on a daily bases? Most assuredly and most deeply.  Each day I wake up and ask the Lord to show me what I can do today to make this a better place. Even if my job for today is to write this simple treatise in the shadow of 9/11. 




#oakager   #soulwriter 
Books by Debi Mason:
What I Thought Was So Just Ain't - Aging through God's Grace
Amazon.com (paperback)
Amazon.com (Kindle edition)
Barnes & Noble (paperback)
Barnes & Noble (NOOK edition)
ISBN-13: 978-0692236475
Release: June, 2014

Arizona Clay: A journey of self-discovery
Amazon.com (paperback)
Barnes & Noble (paperback)
ISBN-13: 9781606964880
Release: June, 2009
Follow me on Twitter:  @DebiOak


Thursday, January 12, 2012

Remembering the Darktown Strutters and those that came before us...

Alberta Hunter 1895 - 1984
Listening to Alberta Hunter...the majestic and legendary Alberta Hunter..."There's only one way to keep a good woman down.. You gotta put her on an island and make her water bound!"  Ha! Love that. I am looking at her performing at the Smithsonian at the age of 87.  Just as strong and as sexy as she can be.  I don't think there is anything else in this old world that keeps my soul light and cheerful more than to see older black women loving life and still being able to participate in it fully.  She talks about being independent and always doing that thing that she loves...making music and making somebody else smile. 


Life in the Third Chapter is a marvelous thing.  Being decisive and sure.  To know what is acceptable and what is truly unacceptable and not being afraid to say so.  Being clear of thought and understanding just how blessed I am  to have reached this wondrous age.  No longer am I swayed by the opinions of others but knowing without a doubt what truly works for me....from the way I praise, to the way I tie my shoes.  Don't ask me when it was but somehow I woke up one day immune to criticism.


Sing on, Alberta, sing on!  Do that thing that God has gifted you to do.  Somebody needs to know that life does get better as you get older. Love the way the body moves now or doesn't move on a cold morning depending.  Clap those hands to that jazz funk, low-down gut-bucket blues.  Do people still snap their fingers to a good beat?  Well, I sure do.  Reminds me that I am still a woman and I am still living.  


The history of a nation in that furrowed brow.  How folks managed to make it in spite of.  Darktown Strutters strut on.  Keep telling the story that I don't want to ever forget. Keep reminding us how good it is to be who it is that we are.   Black and proud and beautiful...