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November 7, 2013

 

 

 

AP PHOTO/AARON M. SPRECHER

AP PHOTO/AARON M. SPRECHER

Man Up

Declaring a war on warrior culture in the wake of the Miami Dolphins bullying scandal

 

By Brian Phillips 


I am here to start a fight, because I’m a man and that’s how I solve problems. I’m not here to help you. I am here to fucking hurt you. That’s what I’ve learned in my years as an NFL fan. You have an issue with somebody? You see somebody being stupid? You don’t look the other way. You don’t back down. You strap on your man boots and you shove it through their teeth.


Let me tell you how I know this. I know it because the NFL told me. Take the Dolphins. They suck, but they’re still in the NFL. I’m telling it like it is; that’s what men do.

The Dolphins have, or maybe had, a 24-year-old left tackle named Jonathan Martin. And they have, or maybe had, a 30-year-old left guard named Richie Incognito. Last week, Martin left the team to seek help for emotional issues. Then allegations emerged that Incognito had been bullying him. Hazing him, if that word makes you feel better. Threatening him. Threatening his family. Leaving him racist voice mails. Sending him homophobic texts. Here’s a quick example, and I’m not bleeping out the bad words, because being a man means looking reality in the face.

Hey, wassup, you half-nigger piece of shit. I saw you on Twitter, you been training 10 weeks. [I want to] shit in your fucking mouth. [I’m going to] slap your fucking mouth. [I’m going to] slap your real mother across the face [laughter]. Fuck you, you’re still a rookie. I’ll kill you.

Incognito was suspended from the team Sunday. Over the next few days, NFL columnists rounded up NFL sources to opine about the only thing that matters in the NFL: warrior fucking toughness. The Shadow League’s J.R. Gamble called Martin “soft.” Giants safety Antrel Rolle said: “You’re a grown-ass man. You need to stand up for yourself.” Ex-Dolphins lineman Lydon Murtha wrote that Martin was a “standoffish and shy” player who “broke the code” and that “playing football is a man’s job” of “high testosterone.”Sports Illustrated‘s Jim Trotter spoke to a mean fleet of NFL types who all agreed that Martin was “a coward.” One said: “I think Jonathan Martin is a weak person. If Incognito did offend him racially, that’s something you have to handle as a man!” Another one said: “You handle it in house — fight, handle it on the field, joke about it, etc. — and keep it moving.” Another one said: “I might get my ass kicked, but I’m going to go down swinging if that happens to me, I can tell you that.”

Warriors make war on warriors. There’s no room for crying in this game. You have a problem, you handle it on the field. Handle it as a man. Go down swinging. I hear you, NFL, and that’s why I’m not here to move you or persuade you. If you have a penis and feelings, you’d better cut one of them off. I’m here to start a fight.

Because this — this idea that Jonathan Martin is a weakling for seeking emotional help — this is some room-temperature faux-macho alpha-pansy nonsense, and I am here to beat it bloody and leave it on the ground. Every writer who’s spreading this around, directly or by implication; every player who’s reaction-bragging about his own phenomenal hardness; every pundit in a square suit who’s braying about the unwritten code of the locker room — every one of these guys should be ashamed of himself, and that’s it, and it’s not a complicated story.

Let’s put some things in context, shall we? We’re lucky in this regard, because it’s actually fairly easy to put mental-health issues in context in a league whose retirees have a disproportionate tendency to shoot themselves to death. Former Chargers DB Paul Oliver is the most recent. He killed himself in late September at the ripe old age of 29. In 2012, four players or ex-players committed suicide in eight months, including 25-year-old Titans receiver O.J. Murdock, beloved Chargers icon Junior Seau, and Chiefs linebacker Jovan Belcher, who — maybe you vaguely remember this — shot himself in the parking lot of the Chiefs’ practice facility after murdering his girlfriend in front of his 3-month-old daughter.

The plague of NFL suicides might by itself hint at the severity of the desperation many players seem to find below the surface of America’s favorite TV show. And that might, in turn, argue in favor of extending some basic benefit-of-the-doubt compassion toward a young player who says he’s struggling. But let’s say you don’t see it that way. You need more convincing, maybe because you’re a man and you know that compassion is a lie invented to keep you from owning a Hummer. Fine. Let’s squeeze into our thinking caps and keep going.

The brain is a part of the body. It’s an organ. It’s a physical thing. Sometimes it breaks. Sometimes it breaks because you beat it against the inside of your skull so hard playing football,1 and sometimes — because it’s unimaginably intricate, the brain, way more intricate than even a modified read-option — it breaks for reasons that are harder to see. Your ability to chortle “boys will be boys” doesn’t mean that psychological abuse of the sort that Martin apparently endured can’t widen that kind of fracture. But then, does the cause even matter?

Look at it this way: No one thought Joe Theismann was soft for leaving the game when his leg was hanging sideways. Sometimes the brain goes sideways, and when that happens, “brave” or “cowardly” shouldn’t even come into it. Seeking help is just the practical thing to do.

Or look at it this way: Say Jonathan Martin had three children, two boys and a girl. Say the youngest was 2 months old and the oldest was 3 years old and they all died in a fire. Would you call him weak for missing some games over this? No, because you would understand that he was in unbearable pain, that he was literally crazy with hurt, and you would want to support him because, to your mind, the pain would have a valid cause. But what makes a badly suffering person incapable of functioning isn’t the validity of the cause, it’s the extremity of the pain. And sometimes — because brains break! — it’s possible to feel as if your children had burned to death for no obvious reason at all. The ceiling is screaming, every pore in your skin hurts, the view in the window hurts, the idea of getting off the couch to close the curtains hurts, thinking five minutes into the future makes you feel like you’re coming apart at the atomic level. You need help when this happens. Yeah, even if it means that the hardest men on the planet — Twitter users — lose respect for you.

I love football — it’s so much fun, it’s beautiful, it’s thrilling, it’s an excuse to drunk-tweet in the mid-afternoon — but it has also become the major theater of American masculine crackup. It’s as if we’re a nation of gentle accountants and customer-service reps who’ve retained this one venue where we can air-guitar the berserk discourse of a warrior race. We’re Klingons, but only on Sundays. The Marines have a strict anti-hazing policy, but we need our fantasy warrior-avatars to be unrestrained and indestructible. We demand that they comply with an increasingly shrill and dehumanizing value set that we communicate by yelling PLAY THROUGH PAIN and THAT GUY IS A SOLDIER and THE TRENCHES and GO TO WAR WITH THESE GUYS and NEVER BACK DOWN. We love coaches who never sleep, stars who live to win, transition graphics that take out the electrical grid in Kandahar. We love pregame flyovers that culminate in actual airstrikes.

And of course this affects the players. Locker-room guy-culture is one thing; the idea that any form of perceived vulnerability is a Marxist shadow plot is something else. It’s a human inevitability that when you assemble a group of hypercompetitive young men some of them will go too far, or will get off on torturing the others — which is why it’s maybe a good idea, cf. the real-life military, to have a system in place to keep this in check. What we have instead is a cynical set of institutional fetishes that rewards unhealthy behavior. The same 110-percent-never-give-an-inch rhetoric that makes concussed players feign health on game day encourages hazing creep after practice. Don’t believe that? I’ve got a helmet-to-helmet hit here for you, and that’ll be $15,000, petunia.

I guess the nuanced line on the scandal in Miami is that a locker room is a complicated organism, and the aggression/affection dynamic between teammates is impossible for outsiders to understand.2 Maybe that’s true. But there are boundaries in locker rooms, same as anywhere else, and those boundaries are culturally conditioned, same as anywhere else, and they change with time, and they can be influenced. And it would be really good, it would be a really good thing, if the NFL moved its boundaries in such a way as to show some minimal respect for mental health. Not just for PR purposes, but because for as hell-bent as we seem on turning football players into gods without dignity, humanity doesn’t stop the moment you strap on a Dolphins helmet. I don’t know when football forgot that fact, but the evidence is overwhelming that it needs to remember.

There will always be locker-room assholes. They should be curtailed. And when a player says he needs time off for mental reasons — again: in a sport with a suicide problem — it shouldn’t spark a national conversation on whether he’s soft.

I am here to hurt you, so I’ll also say this: You’re a warrior, cool. What the hell are you a warrior for? I’m sorry if this makes it sound like I have emotions other than anger — I assure you that I don’t — but tell me this: What’s the point of being strong if all you stand for is abusing a suffering teammate? Those guys who taught me that when you see a problem, you step up and solve it, all those anonymous sources foaming on about how to be a man — is that what they think “being a man” is? I mean, nothing about protecting someone who’s struggling in your big gender equation, then? Nothing about, like, knowing right from wrong?

Here’s what I can’t stop thinking: There were so many tough men in that Dolphins locker room. The unwritten code of football is that you handle your business in-house. Any one of these men could have said something to stop Incognito and help Martin. Any one of them could have handled it. They’re warriors, right? They’re paragons of strength. And yeah, there are complex reasons why they didn’t. But they didn’t.

 

+++++++++++++++++++

Brian Phillips

Brian Phillips (@runofplay) is a staff writer for Grantland.

 

>via: http://www.grantland.com/story/_/id/9939308/richie-incognito-jonathan-martin-miami-dolphins-bullying-scandal

 

Judy.2-031

JUDY KIBINGE

__________________________

SOMETHING-NECESSARY-klein


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ckdS9PEkoQQ

 

Q&A:

Judy Kibinge

– Writer, director and film maker

 

BY  

Judy Kibinge
Judy Kibinge is a Kenyan writer, director and film maker.  Her debut film Dangerous Affair (2002) won the overall award at the 2003 Zanzibar Film Festival and she won Best Director at the 2009 Kalasha Awards for her film Killer Necklace (2008).  She founded Nairobi-based production house Seven and has recently set up DOCUBOX, a Documentary Film Fund that gives small grants and training to talented film makers from East Africa.She is currently in the UK for Film Africa (the Royal African Society’s Annual Film Festival) and the screening of her third feature film Something Necessary (2013).  The film is set against the backdrop of the violence that followed Kenya’s 2007 election, resulting in over 1500 deaths, 3000 women raped and 300,000 people displaced. Something Necessary is observed through the eyes of two individuals Anne (Susan Wanjiru) and Joseph (Walter Lagat) directly impacted by the violence in different ways, and asks powerful questions about the causes of the violence, what it means to be a victim, and ultimately how to live with and move forward in the face of terrible loss.I had a chance to talk to Judy at the RichMix café earlier this week and ask her about the making ofSomething Necessary, the film in the context of other literary and artistic response to the post-election violence, what inspires her as a film maker, and about DOCUBOX.Making a film like this so soon after the events themselves – when there are still a lot of unresolved questions and emotion and still a lot of people displaced by the violence, can’t have been an easy thing to do.  Was this a hard film to make given this context and how did you deal with that as a director?It was a very very difficult film to make, and for some of the reasons that you’ve mentioned.  First of all to be in the middle of a thing like 2007 is indescribable.  I know there is chaos and civil unrest all over the world, but nothing can describe the confusion you feel when your country just starts burning and you are in it.  It was an awful thing to be part of, to just understand how a city or a country shuts down, how it affects the countries around it, the fear that you feel when you don’t know if the thing will spread into your life or not, and then the disappointment in friends who say certain ethnically charged things when you thought your friendship was something different.  So just three years later to work on a film reflecting, even if it is an aspect of what happened, becomes a very difficult thing.

Judy Kibinge in conversation with Lindiwe Dovey at Film Africa


To make the film the kind of film that I felt I had to make, which is not at surface-level but a film with really in-depth characters, demands that you then look at Anne as a Kikuyu –  because she is a Kikuyu.  But how do you have this Kikuyu woman who loses everything without making it an ethnic story?  And how do you tell Joseph’s story without having lots of political commentary about the Kalenjin and their role as a whole in the politics of the country? And if you show the commission, what should people in that commission be standing up to say and do you explore the outcome of that commission or not?  All of these things just seemed too close and claustrophobic.  Everybody is so sensitive about what happened and views are so strong, but yet they are unexpressed.

Having said that, I’m really happy that we made the film when we did.  You know the further away you get from an event, the more your memory steps into repaint it and the more the things that affected you are stronger.  So, I’m just really glad we made it then, because I think it captures a certain mood.  I’m particularly proud of what we managed to do with the characters Anne and Joseph, as I think they are so typically Kenyan.  There is a hysteria that you imagine accompanies loss and violence, but this woman completely typifies how so many Kenyans deal with life.  You can lose everything, but you just get up in the morning and you try and rebuild.   Joseph’s character turns up in an earlier film I made – Killer Necklace – which tries to answer the question ‘why would a young Kenyan guy with a potentially bright future, even though he is from a poor household, turn to crime?’  And this is exactly the same question and it is exactly the same age guy.  I did a lot of writing and built up the character of Joseph because I’m fascinated with that guy.  I feel like that age of guy – late teen, early 20s – is the reason why Kenya exploded – the frustration, the unemployment all those things.  So I’m really glad that Joseph and his very complex feelings of anger, frustrations and then guilt have been captured in the film.

something-necessary

I’m interested not only in the story you were trying to tell, but what was important to you in terms of the way the story was visually constructed.  Can you talk about shooting the film and whether was there was a particular mood or ideas you were trying to evoke through the location and setting of particular scenes and interactions? 

Because the film was trying to be so true to the characters, the way we shot the film really reflects that as well.  Almost all of the film is shot in very long takes.  This sort of film making sounds very easy to do, but it is actually not.  It is quite complicated because then it affects how you edit – you are not doing your wides, your mediums, your close.  You are starting off with a character, you are following them, you are sometimes allowing them to walk in and out of frame.  You are turning with them, you are introducing other key characters within the same shot without cutting.  And you are trying to do this in a way that doesn’t feel tedious.  So – very difficult to do.

There are also a lot of tableaus or wide scenic shots in the middle.  This was set up while we were at script stage because I really wanted to feel the vastness of the landscape and these individuals within those spaces.  The violence itself was very claustrophobic and there are times in which you feel that in the film, even in the way we follow people and so on.  But I felt that somehow we needed these great big wide visual shots to breathe and express the kind of distances that these characters were implanted in.

The film begins with some pretty brutal footage – archive news footage. The whole idea was to try and bring the viewer from the things they are used to seeing on the screen, that make them think they understand Africa, and slowly as we move from archive into this quite beautiful landscape it is a kind of a seamless transition.  So at one point you are thinking ‘silly Africans fighting each other again’ and then the next thing you are into this woman’s head, her life and an intimate portrait.  The hope was that doing this would help change something in the way you think about what you see on television and what people really are.

It must be quite a different experience to screen this film in Kenya, and then to bring it to international film festivals.  How has the film been received inside Kenya and outside?

One thing that was very intense was that we completed the film at the beginning of 2013 and our next elections in Kenya were in March 2013.  So you can’t imagine what this was.  This country that had gone through this horrible post-election violence in 2007 and then five and a bit years later, here we were about to show a film before the next elections with so many people anxious about what that would mean, and what would happen and what wouldn’t happen.  The first week was very well attended but after that, even many friends told me that they wanted to come and see it but they just couldn’t bring themselves to.  I suppose they were fighting with so many personal fears about what was coming and the last thing they wanted to do was sit in a cinema and re-experience all the fears that they’d had five years ago.

So a lot of mixed feelings.  A lot of people who saw it were just intensely moved by it.  Some of the reviews talked about it being the best acting yet in a local or a Kenyan film.  Some people thought there were scenes that were unnecessarily violent.  I think there is one particular scene, an abortion scene, that shocked and I think it has surprised people not just at home but elsewhere in the world.   Bringing it here I feel is more about curiosity, a lot of whys and especially given what is happening now with the Hague.  I think people feel the film gives them a glimpse into something they didn’t know very much about, but at home it is really something that people might rather forget.  So a difficult film because of that.  I want my next film to be more entertaining – we have enough horror in our day-to-day life without having to go to the cinema and watch it as well.

You also directed a documentary Peace Wanted Alive which explores the aftermath of the post-election violence in Nairobi.  Can you talk a little bit about that project?

After the violence, as an artist or as a film maker or as anyone, everybody felt lost. I remember my Mum one day saying ‘I’m so depressed’ and I was like ‘so am I’ and then we just sat there.  The whole country was depressed for maybe two years.  It was horrible, like this big cloud hanging in the air.  Peace Wanted Alive came out of the desire to just do something that helped try to find answers.

One thing I noticed was that if you watched the news, you always saw our same old politicians talking their same old crap and you didn’t really see any stories of heroism – you didn’t hear any proactive young new voices.  What I wanted to do was explore the violence through six pairs of young eyes.  I followed the story of this amazing artist called Solo Seven, Solomon Seven. Solo Seven did thousands of pieces of graffiti all across Kibera, the biggest slum in Africa.  If you walk through Kibera even today you just see big big ‘peace’ written everywhere and ‘peace wanted alive’ was the thing that he kept writing.   His reaction to the violence as an artist was just to paint his graffiti everywhere appealing for peace.  Then I followed another guy, who was only 29 and started picking up orphans from all over the country and bringing them back to his home.  There were also two radio DJs who worked in a community station in Kibera, describing how they saw things unfold. I took six voices on the same timescale and just intercut their stories, and then took the footage we’d been used to seeing on the television and intercut that too.  I thought it gave a very different memory or record of the violence, because it was told from the perspective of people who were on the ground seeing things and who also tried to do something rather than just watch or hide or turn against their neighbour.  It was my way of trying to feel positive in a very depressed time, while also just having a detailed record, intercut with lots of archive footage of what happened.

There was a significant literary and artistic response to the violence across film and television, but also from writers and photographers.  How significant do you think initiatives such as the  Kwani? 05 special issue or the ‘Kenya Burning’ exhibition were?  Are there ways in which your work enters into dialogue with responses to the violence across other media?

kwani-05-part-1

I’m just always struck when you look back at really important points in our history, turning points like 2007.  When you look back earlier – there is no record.  There is no easily accessible record even of independence.  I find it really frustrating that when you look for footage of 1963 what you find is a frozen moment – this stadium in the night and it is frozen, it tells you nothing and that is your collective history.  So I like to look at ‘Kenya Burning’ andKwani? 05 as things that will influence who we are and how we remember the points at which Kenya turned or changed in the future.  I think ‘Kenya Burning’ made a great impact, but I think the audiences were not as big as they should have been.  Even though that exhibition did travel to certain places, it was exhibiting to people who already knew or believed that horrors had happened.  There was also Pichaa Mtaani by Boniface Mwangi, which took where ‘Kenya Burning’ started and just took it further.  That is what he does, he takes things and makes them get seen – he is incredible. Kwani? 05 I think is so important because it recorded texts as documents.

I think violence of this kind happening forces you to ask yourself whether, as a writer or as an artist or as a film maker, you have any kind of responsibility  – and I always used to say ‘no’, ‘no, of course not – I just make film’.  But then suddenly here this thing is and you do have at yours hands something that you can use to do something a little bit wider.  So it was a coming of age time, for me at least.

Who are the film makers, writers and directors that inspire you to do what you do?

I recently saw a short film by a film maker at home called Benji Mureithi which was just really dark and interesting.  When I see films like that I’m just really astonished at the sorts of things that people are managing to make with almost nothing and I find that really inspirational.

If you are looking at bigger films, then really it is people like Tarantino and Paul Haggis.  I mean I just love Crash – I can’t tell you how much I love that film!  When I first watched it and it ended, I just got up and rewound it and watched it again.  It is set in LA, I think at the time of the race riots, but yet it is enormously entertaining.  It shares incredibly intimate observations of these characters trapped inside their race, or trapped inside their neighbourhoods or trapped inside their perceptions of other people – and that is very much Kenya with its different tribes.  I love the film because off it went and won its Oscar for best screenplay and best picture, but yet it tackled things that people don’t say.  I remember later reading about what people in America said when they watched that film – they had never heard themselves as Americans talking about race to each other aloud in that way.

Which films from the last decade would you say have been influential in terms of how people in Kenya think about the past? 

When we did Dangerous Affair in 2002, that changed something in a big way.  I think until that point people were used to African or East African film meaning a certain thing – it had to have a message within the content.  So when Dangerous Affair came along and just portrayed the life of this group of young people, just living and getting jobs, losing jobs, sleeping with each other, getting married to each, cheating on each other, drinking, hungover, clubbing with popular music  that was also on our airwaves being sung live within the scenes of the film – I think all those things really surprised people.  At home I still can’t get over how much it shocked people and you’d also have foreign journalists presumptuously saying ‘but that is not an African film’!

The other film I think has had great impact is Nairobi Half Life, from the same producers asSomething Necessary and written largely by Billy Kahora.  I love it, maybe because again it explores the question I’ve kept trying to answer in other films of why young men become violent or become criminals.  I think it resounded with me personally because of that, but clearly it resounded with many people because of many things – a fantastic soundtrack, a contemporary gang story but telling a larger story about a city and the young people within that city.  I love what Nairobi Half Lifedid and continues to do – the kind of following that the film has at home is really special.

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Finally, what are you currently working on and what plans have you in view for future projects?

I’ve just started an organization called DOCUBOX that is seeking to a start a community of East African film makers. We will be giving 12 grants in December of $2,000 each to make trailers for documentary films.  Out of those 12 at the end of February we pick a maximum of 6, minimum of 4, and give them up to $25,000 each to go off and make films with.  We’ve got people like Lindiwe Dovey who will be helping with the selection and John Akomfrah on our advisory board.

One of the things that was important to me when putting the idea together was starting a dialogue that would change the film making landscape in Kenya.  With Kwani? there was such a strong body of debate, of critical thought – we’d argue until 7am!   That kind of thing does something, it started a real literary community and I think we don’t really have that space as film makers.  We don’t have to all hang out, but at least this can be a place where people network, see what other people are doing and watch great films.

DOCUBOX has taken up a lot of time and I’m using these travels to talk a lot about the fund.  There are couple of future projects I have in mind that I’d like to do, but it is quite difficult when people come up to you and say ‘there is this project we’d like you to do’.  That is in a sense what happened with Something Necessary through the One Fine Day workshop.  The work I’d love to do is still on the horizon, but for now DOCUBOX is definitely the big passion.

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Watch the trailer for Something Necessary here.

Watch Film Africa Festival Manager Sheila Ruiz asks Judy Kibinge three key questions here.

Read Judy Kibinge on film making in Kenya past and present here.

 

>via: http://africainwords.com/2013/11/08/qa-judy-kibinge-writer-director-and-film-maker/#more-4282

 

 

 

 

 

Ken Saro Wiwa 01

KEN SARO-WIWA

Posted by http://www.remembersarowiwa.com/ – this rare interview with the writer and activist Ken Saro-Wiwa was screened in late November 1995 on Channel 4. Saro-Wiwa led the Ogoni people of Nigeria in their non-violent struggle to stop the multinational oil companies, like Shell, destroying their land and livelihood. This is the last recorded interview where Saro-Wiwa speaks about the politics of oil, art in society and the Niger Delta crisis. On 10th November 1995, Saro-Wiwa and eight of his colleagues were executed by the Nigeria military government following a flawed trial. You can find out more about the Ogoni struggle here:http://www.remembersarowiwa.com/

 

 

 

__action_shot_02.jpg.scaled500.jpg.scaled500

 

 

 

 

Fireman’s Ball

 

glistening in the heated night glow

yr arced torso radiates

 

the sculpted bronze intensity

of an earth toned ewe passion mask

 

yr hypnotic breasts

are brown mesmerizing eyes, yr nipples

 

dilated pupils aroused into

elongated surprise

 

yr navel a heavy

nose

 

flaring

with every sharp breath

 

& listen

that dark forest, yr sideways mouth

 

silently chants the sacred syllables

of my secret name

 

as i plunge into the discovery

of its musky depths

 

unable to stand

i joyously recline

 

jumping in the happy immolation

of yr explosive flame

 

—kalamu ya salaam 

 

___________________________________________ 

Kalamu ya Salaam – vocals

Roland HH Biswurm – drums

 

Recorded: May 31, 1998 – Munich, Germany

 

 

 

 

 

 

Call for Submissions:

Voices for Social Justice in Education:

A Literary Anthology

 

Editors: Julie Landsman, Rosanna Salcedo, & Paul Gorski

Deadline for submissions: Midnight, January 15th, 2014

What we are looking for: Poetry (including spoken word), creative non-fiction, memoir, short stories, images of visual art, and other types of writing or visual art that paint a picture of what justice and injustice look like in our schools.

Please read this Call for Submissions fully and, if you choose to submit one or more manuscripts, email them as Word documents, following the specifications below, to: voices@edchange.org.

Stories make meaning for us. We can read “scholarly” articles, abstract theories, or collections of research and all of this is important. However, it is the stories, the poems, the music, the memoir, the essays, the fiction, that bring to life all of the information, all of the declarations about what is good, what is not working, what is needed. In this Voices for Social Justice in Education anthology we desire writing that brings the reality of schooling to life. We want poems about 3rd period physics, short stories about recess in the second grade one hot spring afternoon. We want memoir about your best and worst teachers. We want essays about what is working now, at this moment, in your classroom—what makes a difference in the lives of your students, what is making your school a place students want to be or don’t want to be. We want to know in vivid language, be it from memories or journal entries, in the form of spoken word or in a carefully constructed short story, what social justice means in schools today. What are your hopes and how do they play out? What matters to you when you walk in the door of your building, when you stand up in front of class, when you are late for your last class of the day?

We are writers ourselves. We love language and we know how powerful it can be, how it can move people, to reach those who can make change. We want your words, your language, your passion to help provoke that change.

Guidelines and Specifications for Contributors:
(1) Poets may submit up to 5 poems at once; please submit each in a separate document

with your full contact information on each one (see #4 below)

(2) Prose writers may submit up to 15 pages a) Times New Roman 12-pt font
b) Double-spaced

(3) Images of visual art should be submitted in .pdf or .jpg format
(4) Include author/artist name(s) and email address(es) on each piece submitted

(5) Remember, we are looking for work explicitly about social justice in education and schools, so great work about social justice that is not explicitly relevant to education schools will not be considered

Please feel free to share this Call for Submissions widely! 

 

>via: http://www.edchange.org/call.pdf

 

 

wilde magazine

Wilde Magazine Seeking Submissions

for Winter 2013 Issue

Online submission deadline: December 21, 2013

Wilde Magazine is a quarterly publication of art and writing by and for the GLBTQ community. We seek to not only offer a high-quality publication from a queer perspective, but to also create an environment for discussion. We’re currently seeking submissions for the Winter 2013 issue! www.wildemagazine.org

 

>via: http://www.newpages.com/classifieds/calls/

 

 

 

voices project

Call for Submissions Poetry or Short Prose

—The Voices Project

Submission deadline: Year-round

The Voices Project, an online literary venue for women to promote social change, is taking submissions of poetry or prose. Women and girls of any age or education level are encouraged to submit. We take submissions year round and accept poetry no longer than 2 typed double-spaced pages. Prose, no longer than 250 words. Please include a short bio (200 words or less) with your submission. Anonymous submissions and multiple submissions welcome, no more than 5. Submit through our website: www.thevoicesproject.org/submit.html OR email us at info@thevoicesproject.org. More detailed submission guidelines can be downloaded on the “Submit” page of our site.

 

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BoldAsLove.us

November 10, 2013

 

 

 

Early Winter 2013 Black Film Guide 

New films from @Spike Lee @John_Sayles @IdrisElba & @TheBestManmovie lead our early winter film guide

The-Best-Man-Holiday--ed1


The late Fall/Early Winter film seasons offer a wide array of films that will make you laugh, cry, cring, sing, and more.  Hopefully those emotions will be from a positive and not negative reaction to the performances and film direction.  Here is our list of some Black film highlights for the remainder of 2013 with the latest Tyler Perry/Madea film curiously missing.

November 8th

Go For Sisters
Written & Directed by John Sayles
With LisaGay Hamilton, Yolonda Ross, Edward James Olmos, Harold Perrineau and Isaiah Washington
Limited NYC release; opens November 15th in Los Angeles

The newest film from Academy Award nominee John Sayles marks his return to the American/Mexican border he reflected so well in Lone Star (1996) and the buried secrets its constant conflicts hide so well.

Bernice (LisaGay Hamilton) and Fontayne (Yolonda Ross) grew up so close people said they could “go for sisters”, but time sent them down different paths. Twenty years later, those paths cross: Fontayne is a recovering addict fresh out of jail, and Bernice is her new parole officer. When Bernice’s son Rodney goes missing on the Mexican border, his shady associates all in hiding or brutally murdered, Bernice realizes she needs someone with the connections to navigate Rodney’s world without involving the police… and turns to her old friend. The pair enlist the services of disgraced ex-LAPD detective Freddy Suárez (Edward James Olmos) and plunge into the dim underbelly of Tijuana, forced to unravel a complex web of human traffickers, smugglers, and corrupt cops before Rodney meets the same fate as his partners.

First Impressions:  Sayles is a master at writing and portraying complex relationships and is able to often bring the best work out of his actors.  While some of his latest work felt off the beaten track, including the Danny Glover starring Honeydripper (2007), Sisters looks to be a return to the form that so many of his fans prefer; the crime drama angle as a way to explore Bernice and Fontayne’s broken relationship may well be a winner.  And Edward James Olmos elevates most every project in which he appears.  This is one to look forward to.

 

November 15th

The Best Man Holiday
Written & directed by Malcolm D. Lee
With Taye Diggs, Morris Chestnut, Nia Long, Terrence Howard, Sanaa Lathan, Harold Perrineau, Regina Hall, Monica Calhoun and Melissa De Sousa

When college friends reunite after 15 years over the Christmas holidays, they will discover just how easy it is for long-forgotten rivalries and romances to be ignited.

First Impressions:  I don’t have a good feeling about this.  The movie feels forced, and using the Christmas holiday format is emotionally manipulative. The Best Man was an original, cross-cultural hit because it was a sexy comedic drama with honest, familiar and funny characters coupled with a talented and ultimately high-profile cast.  Holiday comes off like most reunions – something that too many people asked for and will most likely regret.  It may well be entertaining, I certainly hope it is as I enjoy the continuous work of most of the cast, I just hope Lee and his actors are able to bring something fresh to the relationships.

 

November 27th

Oldboy
Directed by Spike Lee
Written by Mark Protosevich (The CellI Am Legend)
With Josh Brolin, Elizabeth Olson, Sharlto Copley, Samuel L. Jackson, Hannah Simone and Lance Reddick

An adaptation of the original manga, this film tells the story of an advertising executive (Brolin) who is inexplicably kidnapped and held captive for 20 years. When he’s unceremoniously released, he goes on an obsessive quest to find out who did this to him and why, enlisting the help of a young social worker (Olsen) before he eventually tracks down an enigmatic man who may have all the answers.

First impressions:  Most of the people hyped to see this film are probably less familiar with the serialized Japanese manga series written by Garon Tsuchiya and illustrated by Nobuaki Minegishi and more familiar with Chan-Wook Park’s 2003 movie version Oldeuboi, a visual and story-telling masterpiece that made Park a crossover star director. Nonetheless, Lee’s adaptation looks to be just as thrilling, though perhaps less gritty, and the casting itself seems masterful. Sam Jackson seems to be as cameo compelling as usual, but I look forward to seeing what Lance Reddick, more known for his TV roles (FringeThe Wire) will bring to the film.

If you’ve never seen the original, the ending will shock you.  But frankly, I just want to see the action with that hammer.  As much of an auteur that Lee is, his work-for-hire films like Inside Man (2006) are among his best technical work.  Oldboy is the action thriller to look forward to this season.

Black Nativity
Directed by Kasi Lemmons
With Forest Whitaker, Angela Bassett, Jacob Latimore, Jennifer Hudson, Tyrese Gibson, Nasir Jones, Mary J. Blige

In a contemporary adaptation of Langston Hughes’ celebrated play, the holiday musical drama Black Nativity follows Langston (Jacob Latimore), a street-wise teen from Baltimore raised by a single mother, as he journeys to New York City to spend the Christmas holiday with his estranged relatives Reverend Cornell and Aretha Cobbs (Forest Whitaker and Angela Bassett). Unwilling to live by the imposing Reverend Cobbs’ rules, a frustrated Langston is determined to return home to his mother, Naima (Jennifer Hudson). Langston embarks on a surprising and inspirational journey and along with new friends, and a little divine intervention, he discovers the true meaning of faith, healing, and family.

First Impressions:  If you like musicals, you’ll like this movie.  And if you love gospel music, then you will definitely love this film.  The acting from Whitaker and Bassett, which is always good, looks especially solid here, even though it is a bit odd to see them both playing grandparents. Jennifer Hudson, in her third film in as many months, here gets to spread her acting and singing skills to their award-winning limits audiences love her for.  It may also be worth sitting through the film just to see rapper Nas, who seems out of place here, act in a starring role for the first time in over a decade.

November 29th

Mandela: Long Walk To Freedom
Directed by Justin Chadwick
With Idris Elba, Naomie Harris, Tony Kgoroge, Riaad Moosa and Terry Pheto
(limited release)

Idris Elba leads this film which chronicles Nelson Mandela’s life journey from his childhood in a rural village through to his inauguration as the first democratically elected president of South Africa. Naomie Harris (Skyfall) co-stars as Mandela’s wife Winnie.

First Impressions: This film looks a lot more powerful and captivating than the Jennifer Hudson starring Winnie Mandela film released in September.  No offense to J-Hud, but Noamie Harris will act her under the table on any given day.  But its Elba’s Mandela that will sell this film to audiences that are looking for a deep and what I hope is mostly accurate biopic.  The fear is that it will be as stale as most of the films in this genre, having little in the way of storytelling structure.

December 6th

Lenny Cooke
Directed by Josh and Benny Safdie
Executive Produced by Joakim Noah

In 2001, Lenny Cooke was the most hyped high school basketball player in the country, ranked above future greats LeBron James, Amar’e Stoudemire and Carmelo Anthony. A decade later, Lenny has never played a minute in the NBA. This quintessentially American documentary tracks the unfulfilled destiny of a man for whom superstardom was only just out of reach.

First Impressions: I won’t say too much here as we have a full review coming up in a month, but I will share that this film is not told in a way one would expect, which on its own makes it appealing. Even more than the trailer allows, there is a lot be said in this film about fate, celebrity, and the expectations grown people put on child athletes, putting it very much in line with its oft compared film, the modern classic documentary Hoop Dreams (1994).

 

 

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