A Love Affair

I am currently engaged in a love affair with Anthropology. Our relationship started in the summer of 2009 and I’ve been hooked ever since. It whispered in my ear sweet paradigms of thought that preached diversity and diffusion.  The first side it reviled to me drugged my insides with tales of culture and eroticized Others. I was in a haze. It knew this and took advantage of the situation. It grasped me by the hips and we started dancing in the dirt.

 Archaeology was… intriguing.

The dirt would kiss my hands and the objects would sing songs about people long past; people who were waiting to be heard and stories that were waiting to be told. Histories were waiting to be constructed, reconstructed, and deconstructed. We got dirty together and I liked it. And I loved that I liked it, because it brought me happiness.

However, happiness comes and goes.  When Anthropology began to divulge its past and creation to me my heart felt weak.  How could I love something that codifies otherness built on xenophobia and xenophobia’s friend, racism? It told me not worry. Told me that its past endorsement of colonial powers was gone. It lied. It still shows that ugly side every now and then, but I’ve told myself to only see the beauty. Only see the strength that dwells in its soul not the destruction it can cause.

Now, when we dance it isn’t as graceful. The lithe rhythms have been replaced with hard stances attempting to flow like water. I’m constantly questioning my love now and all it does is provide more questions instead of answers. The emotion felt isn’t happiness all the time, but it is stability. Our relationship is an  ebb and flow of knowledge, constantly changing yet is balanced.

Salt Roads

I haven't written a poem in a while, so I thought what the hell let me post this one. I wrote it a little over three months ago. As Erykah Badu said "keep in mind that I'm an artist and I'm sensitive about my shit."

I wrote this poem while daydreaming in a class. It is based off a book that I pretty much fell in love with called The Salt Roads by Nalo Hopkinson. Get the book, read it, then pass on what you've learned to others.

Salt Roads


We’ve lost ourselves in the oceans
Drifting, our souls left in the water
The salty water
It use to fill our souls

That water once led to Congo beats
And cosmology long past
The water gone
The skin lightened
The hair forced and pressed the water out

Now we are left with roads
Salt roads
Roads once filled with the ocean water that lead to Ibo land, sea
breeze, drum beats and lack of clothing
The water… gone
The clothes cover the body once glorified
Now demonized as, ‘other’
Covered by cloth that dried the water

Now we are left with roads
Salt roads
That use to hold ocean water that lead to lands now forgotten
That led to histories now untold
That led to languages now unspoken
That led to a beauty now unseen

Urban Flower Child?

What does it mean to be an Urban Flower Child?

It means being the wildflowers that grow along the streets. It means being the vines that creep up the skyscrapers. It means being the weeds that crack the sidewalk. The Urban Flower Child is the constant reminder to the busy world that surrounds her that life should be taken as a breeze. Like the wildflowers, vines, and weeds the Urban Flower Child is a symbol of Earth’s natural beauty. The pavement may close us in. The brick buildings may push us up and the concrete sidewalks may try to cover us, but we live. We break through and live our free spirited lives against the obstacles that try to obscure us.

Sometimes people don't want the wildflowers, vines, and weeds. Some people want to pave over the wildflowers. Some want to cut down the vines. Some people want to kill the weeds. Some people just don’t want to be reminded of the connection we have to nature; and ultimately to earth. Some people would rather be encased in their man made heaven when the wonders of Earth are right outside waiting for them. It’s the job of the Urban Flower Child to remind others.

I named this blog Urban Flower Child, because I want this space to act as the wildflowers, vines, and weeds. I want this space to remind others of the beauty and simplicity of life. But, I also want to remind others of the beauty of nature, I want to uproot sidewalks with discussions on current events, and line buildings with talks of music and fashion. As a broke college student, I strive to make the most of my life on the simplest of terms. My happiness is never complicated. I’m an Urban Flower Child.