Atlanta, GA, USA
Spoiled Catfish
Spoiled Catfish
The year of 2015 was the year that I let my conscience and library of morals walk out of my life, just for a little while. The summer (to be exact) is when I let everything go; my dignity and lack of direction and judgement was at an all-time low. Things got a little dirty, feelings were handed and thrown away, but fun was the underlying theme.
Please do not take my carelessness for weakness; it’s not what you think. Summer ’15 had marked a year of me being single and I wanted to lose control. Yes, lose control because I am a control freak, but it’s getting better. The freak in me wants to control my love life, school life, even my financials. Once the control isn’t in the freaks’ hands, the world is not in balance. I don’t know how to mentally function when I can’t control the empty variables in my life. With that being said, in attempt to control the lack of love in my life, I took a new route.
I have never been a fan of online dating. I laugh at the very thought of the show “Catfish” and the troubles that the desperate have. I live by the “too many fish in the sea” rule. I never had a problem with meeting people in the real world, so I’m sure the irony will be evident in this story. Unfortunately, desperate became my name for the time being and I found a spoiled fish in the sea of Tinder. A close friend of mine had recommended the devilish app and had bragged so much about her success with dates. We already know that my moral compass was askew, because I downloaded the app and went to town; I set up my profile and my preferences to my likings. Smiling at my destiny on the screen, I just knew I was ready to meet someone new.
When I first encountered the fish is a lonely night in May when I house-sat for my grandmother and swiping left and right was the event of my choice. I had been writing for my website that was under construction and wanted a change of scenery from the glare of my laptop. Like any other day, I had matched with a pretty young lady, but this time I was going to take the plunge and put myself out there. I sent a message to Tiffany (let’s just call her that for privacy purposes) and started a conversation. She was in the city and wanted to hang out after 20 minutes of casual “nice to meet yous” and “what are you up to tonights”. For once I wanted to get past the standard introduction and connect with someone; it had been a year since my ex had called it quits and it was the summer, you can’t blame me. Thirty minutes in and we have exchanged numbers and planned on meeting up to hang that night. Yes, I gave a stranger my number and my general area of location, but quite frankly there was absolutely nothing else going for me expect a warm spot on the couch that had a permanent imprint of my body in it.
Regretting my poorly made decisions, I ignored her calls three times that night. Yup, the control came rushing back; I didn’t like how careless I felt. Not to mention that I suddenly no longer had the balls to leave the house to meet up with a stranger at 11 o’clock that night. I slept peacefully to say the least. The next morning consisted of me making breakfast for one, watching tv, and answering five text messages from Tiffany. “OMG, I feel asleep. I was so exhausted”, I lied. “Lol, good morning. It’s fine. Maybe we can meet up later today”, she said. I threw the phone on the couch and laughed, as if. Thinking the fun was over since I had ended this virtual relationship in my head, it was nowhere near over.
The afternoon crept in and my day was the same from the day before, boring. Writing, eating, sleeping, and the occasional smoke was my routine, no visitors, no fun. However, I was content seeing that meeting up with strange women wasn’t on my list of things to do. A phone call from an unfamiliar number broke my boring zen; I answered like normal. “Who is this?” I said. The voice with a base deeper than my father’s and closer to my grandfather’s came through the phone. I pulled the phone from my ear and looked at the number on the screen with the classic “WTF face” like the phone was supposed to report who I was speaking with. Who was I speaking with? “Anthony from Tinder? You’re Sade’, right?” My heart had officially left my chest and a huge load of fear had replaced it. My mind was racing, mentally retracing my steps to figure out who the hell I had really given my number to. Thinking back to a crazy night out when I had thrown my number to randoms I never planned on speaking to past that night, but it still didn’t add up.
“You have the wrong number”, I said. I couldn’t press END any faster or harder to end this moment, literally mashed my finger into the phone. “Oh my f***ing God”, I said. I had sworn in His name and didn’t even repent two seconds later like usual. It was serious. I had just been played… by a man… who appeared to be a woman… ON TINDER. I had given this man my location, phone number; I just knew he had my address, social security number and blood type. Mentally and almost physical running away from “Tiffany”, it didn’t take long for me to 1. Block their number and 2. Get the hell off of Tinder. I was breathing so hard, the escape had become real for me and I hadn’t ran anywhere at all. Piecing each step from the night before that led me to this catfish moment was making my hands sweat, head dizzy, and dignity deflated like an old Happy Birthday balloon. I immediately felt like something had been taken from me, maybe my innocence. Regardless of me halfway trying to be a skeez for one night, I was really who I was, my location was real, and HE called my real phone. HE! It was a man. This is the sentence that I screamed in my head, but there was a thick silence that resonated in the room and a tiny ringing in my ear.
I was sick with embarrassment and real fear; I paced the room as I frantically put up my virtual fort. My loneliness and boredom had ultimately brought me to this moment and I had no one but myself to blame for the dumbest and craziest venture I had ever experience. I needed to clear my mind and shake “Tiffany” or “Anthony” off of me. My mind was not in tact after the ringing in my ear stopped and the breaking of silence with my shrieks; I can’t tell you what I did after, but I shared this story with you for a number of reasons.
First, I need to be the poster child for anti-Tinder, because why not? My online dating virginity had been taken and it was the worst sex I’ve ever had. I was led to believe one thing about this love-matching application and was a terrible fail. Secondly, I would love if I could be the one to warn the rest of you blind desperates away from the Tinder light. Please stick to the other fresh fish in the sea; meeting people in real life is seen as normal for a reason. Lastly, this is probably the funniest/dumbest/scariest/ and who doesn’t enjoy those? Don’t lie to me. I hope you’ve taken what you’ve needed from this story and laughed a little on the way. Don’t catch spoiled fish. Peace.
Text: Sade' Louis
Chicago, IL, USA
CHICAGO RAPPER HAS SOMETHING TO SAY ABOUT SEFLIE QUEENS
Jovan releases her music video for 'Social Media Girls' from her 3-track visual compilation "The Conscious EP." The video was shot and edited by Jovan, herself.
The Social Media Girl is an epidemic. The song came about when I saw an Instagram page with a bunch of likes on a bunch of selfies. It makes one seem one dimensional, as if that's the only thing they can contribute to the world. Through social media, we have the power to create our own virtual realities, that may not be accurate to who we are in real life. In can be very deceiving to those who gather their information about a person online.
"The internet creating imaginations feeding into our fascination, that we forget the real conversation and who we define our representation."
Through satire, I speak on the those who use social media as a means find their self worth, flaunting material things, creating fake realities and appearances through filters, and many other issues that social media that can bring to our lives. I want to let them know that they are worth more than a photo or post, and that they can find their true beauty within themselves.
"Your filthy filter passing off as fiction. Showing/telling: Are you really living? Deep down inside, you're in a scrimmage, thinking life is all about a competition."
In this comedic music video, Jovan plays the Social Media Girl, with an enormous afro, stuffed bra and drawn on tattoos, being obnoxious on her social media. We then see Jovan in a business casual outfit addressing the Social Media Girl on why she's always spending so much time on her phone. What makes this video unique is the usage of green screen and undercranking. Undercranking in the Music Video World is where the subject is performing the song slowed down, then sped up in post production editing, giving the video a fast and animated feel.
I'm sure this video will make you chuckle at least once.
About "The Conscious EP"
Chicago Emcee Jovan poses conscious questions and ignite conversations about the things she sees and experiences in the world. The 3-track visual compilation, she talks about the usage of social media (Social Media Girls), inner city youth (No Chill), and the many issues that Black people face in America (Progression of Our People).
"It has been over two years since I've released my last project, so it's been long overdue. I wanted to give them a taste of what I can do, a reintroduction of who I am as a hip hop artist. When you're a person of many skills, you can get lost into being boxed as one. Most times I am categorized as a filmmaker. What better way to intertwine all of my gifts and put them in a project?"
The Conscious EP is now available for free on Bandcamp and includes 3 bonus music videos, directed and edited by Jovan.
About Jovan
Jovan is a Creative based in Chicago, Illinois. Specializing in film, photography and music, Jovan believes in utilizing all of her skills in a positive light; With her music: reflecting what hip hop should be and should sound like. She describes her sound as “Old School meeting New School,” heavily influenced by 90s and 2000 hip hop music, boom bap instrumentals with an energetic new school flow. Inspired by artists such as Eve, Left Eye, Missy Elliott, Queen Latifah, Kanye West, Common, Lauryn Hill, Kendrick Lamar, Rapsody, J.Cole, and many others. Jovan is an abundance of energy, clarity, and hope, letting the people know that hip hop: this culture and art form is not dead.
Follow Jovan online!
Atlanta, GA, USA
The Summer of Memoirs: Summer Reading List
“I don’t read unless I have to.”, “I
only read for school- like required reading.”, “I can’t even remember the last
book I read on my own.”, “I … don’t really read.”--- These quotes are honest to
God, real-life sentences that came out of real people’s mouths. I know; I
couldn’t believe it either. However, my love for reading and books run deep.
From the time I’ve known myself, a book will always get my attention. Much
quicker that a friend with a new Game Boy game or a television show would.
Don’t get me wrong, I definitely had friends and loved watching Disney Channel
movies, but books… it was a different experience for me.
My mom pushed reading on myself and my younger sister (more
me) than anything. If I wanted to watch tv, I had to read a book a let her know
what it was about. When school was out for the summer, there was a whole list
of books that I had to read before school let back in. As much as it sounds
like torture, I grew to love it. So much that every year when the scholastic
book fair came to school, I forced a book flyer in her hands so that we could
choose books to buy together. That was my type of fun. Slowly, the bookshelves
in my childhood room began filling and growing in size and my reading level. I
can remember waking up for school, getting dressed, and squeezing in enough
time to eat a healthy bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios and read three chapters of a
book before the school bus made it to my house. That’s how fun it was for me. I
took so much pride in bookmarks and the book light that I eventually got as a
gift. I used to get in trouble for staying up past my bedtime to read
underneath my comforter… with my book light. Yes, I loved it.
Oh how things have changed! As I grew, reading became
something distant and going out with friends and learning how to drive were
more important. Reading became something I just had to do for class and buying
books was just as foreign as reading the FREE ones at school. No, I didn’t hate
reading, we just weren’t best friends anymore. Now, being in Creative Writing
minor in school has changed that a lot. Really college as a whole, but my minor
pushes me to read every day. It was so difficult for me to adhere to
“schedules” and “deadlines for quizzes”. To me, there was no way that I could
read a whole book, complete a project, and deal with work from my other four
classes all while feeding myself and finding the time to sleep and get a decent
shower in. “There isn’t enough time in the day!”, I remember crying to my mom
my freshman year. My long lost love had turned into the worst stress and I
hated our relationship. Zooming into the present, I gained two new loves: new
and old. My year and counting girlfriend created a bucket list for us and one
of the activities was “Read the same book at the same time”. It may be easy and
discourteous of you to say that it took someone else to remind me of something
that I love to do, but then you would be correct. That’s exactly what it took.
I can live with that because your significant other, best friend, your lover is
supposed to encourage the good things.
But I don’t want to bore you guys with the monotonous stories
of my childhood, how my freshman year was the end of my life, or boast about
the love of my life; I want to share something with you. I said all of this to
say reading will always be the way to learn for me. I will always believe that
reading is the easiest and sometimes cheapest way to gain knowledge. The
simplest way to add a new word to your vocabulary and learn something you never
knew before. Possibly the coolest teacher that a person could ever have. So to
help do a good deed in the world and pass the good jewels of my mind along, I
will share my Summer16 Reading List with you all.
First up is 1. “Year of Yes: How to dance it out, Stand in the
Sun, and Be Your Own Person” by Shonda Rhimes. Now, I am only smack-dab in the
middle of this amazing read, but I think I can safely vouch for it. Yes, the
award-winning, “amazing show writing”, ruler of Thursday Nights on ABC wrote
this book and she is indeed amazing. Let’s just say that she went a whole year
of saying yes to things that would scare her and crammed it into a book, along
with some life lessons, motivational quotes, and just pure laughing moments.
You learn to hate and love her at the same time. Please go read!
Number 2. “A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier” by Ishmael Beah. This is a haunting, yet touching read. The author was a
soldier as a child after the war ruined his hometown and got picked up by the
government’s army and had to become a person he didn’t recognize and do
horrible things. Nonetheless, he overcame the traumatic events being a preteen,
BUT you have to read to see it all. Read his story; it’s so worth it.
3. “The Color of Water” by James McBride. Hailing from a
little corner in Brooklyn, New York, a brown James McBride tells his life story
between and betwixt telling his white, Jewish mother’s… but through HER voice.
Exactly. You have so many questions and now you want to read more. Just do it
(thanks Nike).
4. and 5. are “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks” by
Rebecca Skloot and “The Autobiography of Malcolm X: As Told to Alex Haley” by
of course, Alex Haley. Yes, the same man who gave us “Roots” and yes, you
should read that too. I’m not even going to give you reasons to picks those up,
that is how life changing and engaging they are.
The summer is one of the best times (if not every day) to pick
up a new hobby, try something, or do something you normally wouldn’t have done.
I feel like my generation doesn’t normally lean to going to the library or the
local book store as “trying something new”, but it doesn’t always have to be
trying a new liquor with your friends and I promise you that getting a book
will be cheaper. Educate your minds! There isn’t anything more powerful in this
world than having knowledge and there’s nothing sexier than intellect. It’s
never a bad time to start and I don’t want to hear that the summer is almost
over. You don’t even have to choose any of the books on that list, but just
pick one up. Tell me what you learn. Tell me about something that made you
wonder. Tell me about something you read that made you a better you than you
were yesterday.
Text: Sade' Louis
San Diego, CA, USA
A look into Heavn: A Review of Jamila Woods Debut Album
Jamila Woods lulls us into her world of soulful, bubbly R&B. “Black girl be in a bubble, bubble.” This is Heavn. With the opening song Bubbles, Jamila Woods zooms into the life of a quiet black girl. “Floating quietly out of trouble, trouble.” She keeps quiet. The lyrics speak of youthful innocence, being in a bubble. “Black girl braids filled with bubbles, bubbles. Jump in puddles in double, double. How many different oils we know, we know to turn our skin from brown to gold?” Black girls are magic.
However, the ethereal beat keeps her distant. She keeps shy and quiet in Chi-town. She is innocent, but growing aware of the cost of blackness. "You should know that I keep knives inside my kitchen. I'm not the one you're thinking.” She is just like everyone else, armed in the same way everyone else is. She is not dangerous; she is black. “I've been picking my hair out and I know, now how cold I really feel.” She loves her blackness, but it comes at an emotional cost.
The wavering pitches of the next song VRY BLK seem to pop the bubble. “Black is like the magic, and magic's like a spell.” To the tune of Miss Mary Mack, Jamila declares, “I'm very black, black, black. Can't send me back, back, back. You take my brother, brother, brother. I fight back, back, back, back.” Heavn is an act of resistance. She mourns the losses in her community, while condemning the oppressors. “My brother's went to heaven, the police going to…” She does not finish her sentence. You, I, and they all know where they’re going. She also has words for those who condone the oppressors, the media, politicians, and anti-blackness. “Everything is relative, politicizing evidence. I heard a politician reiterate all the messages.” Although we have countless video evidence of murder, everyone views it through their own political lens. Politicians and police chiefs say we don’t know the entire story. VRY BLK is a song of mourning, but also of celebration of African-American culture, of hand games, chants, and solidarity and love in the struggle. “And all I wanna do is find love.”
A new beat comes on, less surreal, but still withdrawn. "Lonely lonely that is me,” Jamila croons. “Say don't take from me quiet. Don't take from me my tears.” She demands that you don’t dictate her emotions, her reactions to trauma. “I could be crazy, but my crazy is my own… I’ll be crazy on my own.” She feels more than the average person and doesn’t quite understand this. “I don't wanna wait for my life to be over to let myself feel the way I feel.” She is entitled to her emotions, to express them openly and freely. “I'm not OK, thanks for asking. I can tell I've said too much I'm out of touch. Guess no one ever really wants to know.“ She cares about others. It is strange to her that people speak out of obligation. She doesn’t understand why others don’t care. “I put a post-it note on my mirror so I might love myself, so I might be enough today.“ She suffers from self-hatred, not for lack of love from herself, but from culture and society. “I don't wanna wait for our lives to be over to love myself however I feel.” Happy, sad, angry-- she wants to love herself no matter the circumstance. She flips the reference (by Paula Cole). She is not impatient for romantic love, but for self-love. “A place where I'm alone, searching for a place where I'm alone. I get lost when I'm alone.” She needs time and space to process things. She wants to accept herself. She wants to find the place she belongs in herself.
In the titular song, Heavn, Jamila Woods opens with a reference to The Cure. Instead of asking for the secret to a neck kiss, she asks “Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick the one that makes you love someone.” In a world so cold, so antiblack, so capitalistic, how does she love someone? “The world wants us so numb and alone.” The chorus of her voice emulate the crashing waves, both near and distant. She thinks of her ancestors, how they loved despite it all. “They're dancing in the deepest ocean. See? Not even death could stop them.”
In My Name is more cutting, the beat more straight-forward and traditional. Jamila prefaces the song by revealing that she chose her own name. “Keep my name out your mouth cause you can't handle the fleek. Don't cut your tongue on my syllables.” She is tired of tongues twisting, gutting her name of all meaning. How many times does she have to repeat a name for someone to get it? “Bet you need a syllabus to teach you how many vowels sound. It's a long ‘i’ baby, but your tongue too lazy.” She is not foreign, not other. She is black. “Fix your face and say your grace before you pray to me.” She is a goddess. She is heaven in a name. The track ends in a group of children, reciting a quote from Freedom Fighter Assata Shakur.
The next track, LSD, greets us with an insect-like noise, taking us to nature, our natural habitat. This track is a Chance track through and through, Acid Rap himself. The beat explodes like a gospel. Chicago is more than what media depicts. “This here ain't for no Vice doc. This here ain't for no Spike op,” he says. Chance preaches to love each other out on the streets. “I shake up some hands on the right block; block club president, night watch.” Jamila and Chance love Chicago for Chicago. Jamila defends, “I won't let you criticize my city; like my skin, it's so pretty. If you don't like it, just leave it alone.” Despite its gentrification and over-policing, Jamila and Chance demand that you love Chicago and its people or leave it alone. They will fight for their city. “I'm a dragon slayer, I can't fly away to some hideaway. I gotta find a way.” Chicago is their home, community, and identity.
Blk Girl Soldier begins in a low, driving electric guitar riff. Despite centuries of oppression in America, black girls have and still thrive. “Look at what they did to my sisters last century, last week. They put her body in a jar and forget her. They love how it repeats… They make her hate her own skin. Treat her like a sin.” Despite such a toxic and hating culture, “She don’t give up.” She has plenty of freedom fighters to guide her. Jamila Woods names Rosa Parks, Ella Baker, Assata Shakur, Sojourner Truth, Audre Lorde, and Angela Davis as freedom fighters. “She taught us how to fight.” Blk Girl Soldiers march on.
A piano leads us into Emerald St., riffing like romantic R&B. Jamila Woods explores the beauty of young black love. “I be in my nightgown, chicken wings ready. If you bring the mild sauce, we can go steady.” Their love is pure and innocent. She echoes a childhood memory of Mr. Rogers. “It's a wonderful day in the hood, Would you be mine, would you be mine? Won't you be my neighbour?” Jamila Woods rejects the sexualization of young black girls and criminalization of black youth by celebrating virtuous black puppy love.
The remaining 5 tracks are musings on love; past, present, future, and self. Jamila looks to heaven for guidance, making reference to the Bible. “Give me today my daily bread. Help me to walk alone ahead. Though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no love.” Jamila wants an otherworldly love, a love that appreciates her in all her holiness and alienness. “I'm an alien from inner space. They can't read my mind all in my face… Just cos I'm born here. Don't mean I'm from here.” Disillusioned with the hardships of Earth, Jamila looks up. If only we loved one another in all that we are, we could create heaven on Earth. Maybe one day we can look at each other, instead of up, for hope. Jamila Woods is willing to work for this future. Until then, at least we are blessed with her piece of Heavn.
Text: Shanika Lazo
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