"He is a sort of gangster, you know.
Because this is a gangster's story.
But a gangster with a difference,
because this is a gangster with a conscience."
- Orson Welles
Monday, January 28, 2008
Monday Music presents MOFRO
Welcome. I hope the new year is treating you all well. Haven't had a lot of time on my hands to update the site or blog. I am getting your e-mails. I really just stink at returning calls and answering mail. I am getting better though. Please don't be offended if you don't hear from me right away.
M*
While MR is out and about making moves and taking names...enjoy this genuinely independent artist and a dope LIVE band...MOFRO with lead singer JJ Grey. Yea, more Fro! - no offense to the follicly challenged. :-)
He says the problem with teachers is, "What's a kid going to learn from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?"
He reminds the other dinner guests that it's true what they say about teachers:
That those who can, do; those who can't, teach.
I decide to bite my tongue instead of his and resist the urge to remind the other dinner guests that it's also true what they say about lawyers.
Because we're eating, after all, and this is polite conversation.
"I mean, you're a teacher, Taylor" "Be honest. What do you make?"
And I wish he hadn't done that (asked me to be honest) because, you see, I have a policy about honesty and ass-kicking: which is, if you ask for it, then I have to let you have it.
You want to know what I make?
I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could. I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional medal of honor and I can make an A- feel like a slap in the face. How dare you waste my time with anything less than your very best.
You wanna know what I make?
I make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall in absolute silence. No, you can not work in groups. No, you can not ask a question (so put your hand down) Why won't I let you go to the bathroom? Because you're bored and you don't really have to go, do you?
You wanna know what I make?
I make parents tremble in fear when I call home at around dinner time: "Hi, This is Mr. Mali, I hope I haven't called at a bad time, I just wanted to talk to you about something your son did today. he said, "Leave the kid alone. I still cry sometimes, don't you?" And it was the noblest act of courage I have ever seen.
I make parents see their children for who they are and who they can be.
You want to know what I make?
I make kids question. I make them criticize. I make them apologize and mean it. I make them write, write, write. And then I make them read. I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful over and over again until they will never misspell either one of those words again. I make them show all their work in math. And then hide it on their final drafts in English. I make them realize that if you got this (brains) then you follow this (heart) and if someone ever tries to judge you by what you make, you give them this (the finger).
Let me break it down for you, so you know what I say is true: I make a difference! What about you?
Thelma Shelton Robinson - A recipient of a 2006 Transformation Award, Thelma's goal is to do what elders in her family and neighborhood have always taught her, to "keep on keeping on." For Thelma this happens through poetic storytelling, a natural extension of herself.
As a 74-year-old African American woman born and raised in South Philadelphia, her gift for storytelling was passed on to her through her father, a master storyteller. After 34 years of service with the City of Philadelphia, she retired and began pursuing her love of poetry and storytelling. Through poetic rhyme she tells stories about Black history in Philadelphia -- ranging from stories about the injustice of Corrine Sykes' trial to the boycott of Tasty-Kake products led by Black ministers to the story of the first Black men to drive trolleys -- at venues like the Afro-American Museum, Painted Bride Arts Center, and Robin's Bookstore. These stories stand as significant pieces of history, many of which are not well known. Following many of her storytelling performances, Thelma is approached by other elders who share their own "back-in-the-day" stories and in this story swap her work as a storyteller and its importance in community is validated. Emphasizing the importance of learning from the past, her stories illustrate the old African truth symbolized by a Sankofa bird that is looking back over its shoulder, proving that "you cannot know where you are going, if you do not know where you've been."