The end is nigh

*a little off topic, but warranted

I hope one day that I'm lucky enough.

In the days before her death, Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes talked of life in general, how she had reached a peace she never felt before, in the documentary The Last Days of Left Eye. She had plans for the future, including releasing solo projects and delving deeper into yoga and numerology, but she never got to. She died April 25, 2002 in a car crash in Honduras, the lone fatality in a car full of eight people.

In her last interview on BET's 106 & Park, Aaliyah talked of the same types of things, almost a final monologue, a snapshot of her personality or where she was mentally before she passed on.

I remember in the days after her death, when BET dedicated an entire day to her memory, repeatedly watching that interview, thinking that maybe Aaliyah knew what was coming. That maybe she knew she wasn't going to make it back from the Bahamas. She died in a crash also, August 25, 2001 along with eight other people.

And now, watching Michael Jackson's This Is It, I get that same feeling. Near the end of the film, before practicing/performing Man in the Mirror, he tells a small audience of technicians and dancers that we are one. That he wants to show them something they've never seen, never experienced. And he tells them that this world only has four years to reverse the environmental effects that we've caused. It's plain as day.

Now, do you cast off his words as trivial, menial and holding no weight because many saw him as crazy for booking 50 concerts in London at the age of 50? Or because of the things that he did to his face and body? Or his sorted past of judicial trials, amusement park houses and tabloid covers?

Maybe enlightenment comes when you begin to see the proverbial light, when your time on earth is drawing nearer.

Biggie and Tupac had the same kind of moments. Is this coincidence?

Sure, maybe we don't get the subtle hints as they happen. But the beauty of technology is we can look back at those final moments, and look for the signs. I mean, Michael's tour was named This Is It. How much more dramatic can you get?

These artists weren't defined by their entire body of work. It basically boiled down to a few dozen songs, if that many. When you think of Aaliyah, automatically you think of One In A Million. Every song on that album is classic, and with the exceptions of We Need A Resolution and More Than A Woman, that's her legacy. That and the Are You That Somebody video.

Michael Jackson brings to mind a handful of huge songs, not an entire album. And although people definitely have their favorites, me included, Tupac's legacy is All Eyez On Me.

Music has always spoke to deepest part of our spirituality, so it only makes sense that the musicians we revere so deeply are the ones that have the most self-awared messages.

As an artist, I hope that one day, through all the stories, columns and poems that I've written, that I come to be defined by my greatest accomplishment. My goal is that it be my book, Playing Like A Man, which I'm working on now. I'd be ecstatic if my book was studied for its impact on African-American and gay/lesbian literature, and sports literature. It's not just a book of stories, but a study of society and the way it handles this facet of life.

A New Type of Double Consciousness

*please forgive me as I try top catch up on some topics that I've been thinking about for a week or so

W.E.B. DuBois first coined the phrase double consciousness in his writing, The Souls of Black Folk, which basically says that in order for African-Americans to survive on this planet, we need to have a distinct understanding/knowledge of black America and white America. While thinking about certain theories and methods, I've been toying with the idea of a new type of double consciousness, or even a triple consciousness that pertains to African-Americans who happen to be gay. Meaning, that in order to be fully aware of yourself and your surroundings, which I think is the ultimate goal of double consciousness, as a gay African-American you need to have knowledge of three cultures: black America, white America and gay America. Without one of these areas, you won't be fully aware of yourself.
Since fully identifying as a lesbian, I've been more and more interested in the culture as it pertains to readings, events and historical references. I think its part of knowing that part of myself, and may be even adjacent to when a person, after denying a part of themselves for so long, actually knowledges said part, then they completely immerse themselves in that culture or knowledge base.
As it pertatins to my book, I believe that many times athletes experience their acceptance of their own sexuality #1 at a young age and #2 while playing some type of team sport. Because playing on a team creates a family atmosphere that is more comfortable and allows a person to be comfortable with themselves, therefore free to express themselves however they choose (another point that I will elaborate on more fully another time), it sometimes manifests by creating an atmosphere where women are comfortable enough to come out of the closet. And when they do this, they may begin to search for others like them. For example, if a female tennis player comes out in high school, she may research other lesbian tennis players, looking for someone's footsteps to follow, and ultimately find Billie Jean King.
In so, someone wanting to be fully aware of who they are and where they came from will always look to find out about themselves through all angles that they are associated (i.e. a hispanic Roman Catholic whose father is Jamaican, detailed, I know).
Can you actually compare this theory that I've hopefully adequately explained to what DuBois was talking about? Well, I'm not sure. Double consciousness is, I believe, something that is inherent and it holds that sense of urgency. (i.e. you NEED both the knowledge of black and white America to survive America) I wouldn't say that you need the knowledge of gay America to survive as a gay America. There may be plenty lesbians and gay men who know nothing about Brandon Teena or Matthew Shepard. I'll admit, I knew nothing about Brandon Teena until I watched Boys Don't Cry just over a year ago, and I know women who swore by that movie when I was in middle school.
But, being that consciousness is defined as a state of awareness, I think it warrants attention.
And do you call it a new double consciousness, a triple consciousness, or just another facet of your consciousness? Triple may be a little much, because, by this theory/definition, if you come from several different backgrounds you can have that many consciousnesses, which would eventually just get ridiculous. Let's dub it a different facet of consciousness.
If you are reading this, I value what you think on the subject. It would really help me with my brainstorming, if you would write responses and let me know. I'm open for discussion!

Who Dat Talking About A Revolution?

All the signs are there. The evidence is clear.

We are on the edge of a social revolution.

How do I know, you ask?

Well for one, the Saints are in the Super Bowl.

It was almost astonishing to me, in the minutes after the Saints clinched their first ever berth to the big game, the polarizing effect that that NFC Championship outcome had on people's Facebook statuses. Black people scattered across the nation, voluntarily or involuntarily, expressed a collective spectrum of happiness, from digital tears of joy to cries of redemption. Bryant Robertson, a devout fan, wrote the next morning: Woke up and the Saints are still the NFC champs....I guess it wasn't a dream...lol.

Some even immediately started making plans to see the game, by plane, train or automobile.

The rest of the racial spectrum varied from mutual excitement to sincere congratulations to no comment at all, which was very few and far between but still prevalent. Steven Rhodes, who in this case can be best described as a sympathizer, wrote after the final gun: What a game! Saints definitely deserved it!!

To me, its reminiscent of the OJ verdict. While all of black America rejoiced in the victory of a black man, white America shared a collective cringe/what-the-hell-just-happened moment.

You can't convince me that this Super Bowl doesn't scream racial war, and you've got to pick a side: black or white. The Saints, a team and a city that has had its share of horrible misfortune, from 44 years of sports futility to a government that turned it back, then took notice, then turned its back again on its own citizens after a natural disaster that they seemingly knew was coming at some point; or the Colts, quarterbacked by the NFL's and America's perfect, handsome and charismatic poster child, Peyton Manning, already hailed the best to play the game, coached by the next affirmative action selection who's real job is to be the positive racial spin that the media can capitalize on if they win.

By the way, no one expect the Saints to win. Vegas puts the line at the Colts to win by at least five, and most experts have chosen Indianapolis based on its dominant passing game, excellent pass rush and experience. Talk about an underdog.

I just pray that the NFL or any other entity doesn't have a negative effect on the game, i.e. any type of call or incident that sways the game in the Colts' favor, because then, with the way New Orleans has suffered and continued to suffer in the years since Katrina, that STATE just may spark a civil uprising. There's only so much people can take, and it seems one of the ways to seriously get under people's skin now, which used to be categorized by some act of injustice, is to simply screw with their football team.

A Saints loss will be the last straw, or maybe it won't. The revolution that Erykah Badu, Michael Jackson, Lupe Fiasco, countless rappers, actors, artists, activists, poets, teachers, street corner philosophers and people who are just fed up with this society custom made to keep every man - not just black or white or poor or disadvantaged, EVERYONE - down have been calling for to turn this government, this country, this planet around can only come when people stop allowing themselves to be stepped on.

My hope is that it starts with this football game. The last time it took an innocent black man getting his ass kicked for people to start rioting in the streets. This time, I hope that we scream for social change rather than just screaming.

Taking this thang in a new direction

So, as you can see and as I've stated before, I hardly ever post here. I hardly ever do journalism anymore, especially now since I've fulfilled my journalism requirement for school. (3 cheers for that!)
However, there is something that has peaked my interest so much that I've decided to rededicate this blog to that topic.
A few months back, I decided what I wanted to write a book about. It's something that's dear to my heart that deserves to be analyzed better than what it has been. That topic is homosexuality and women's sports.
Now, there are several different avenues to take this topic, however, since I've been thinking critically about how I want to approach this topic, I've decided that the book will be part investigative/story-telling journalism and part biography as I use myself as a sort of backdrop or thin plotline to piece together and elaborate/drive home a few of my points.
As I get closer to starting to write the book - because right now it's obviously just in the planning stages - I will be able to book interviews and expand the overall idea. I suspect that some ideas and concepts will fall by the wayside once I start talking to people.
So, this site will now be used as a way for me to put my thoughts down digitally, think out certain ideas/theories/concepts.
Another thing that will be helping me come up with good solid ideas for this book will be my classes. I decided to take an African-American Literature class and a Gay/Lesbian Literature class this semester, and so far, nearly every class I attend yields some sort of idea toward the book's development.
I can't tell you how excited I am about this book project. I always figured that I would write a book, I just never really thought what the topic would be.
Oh, and the name of my book will be Playing Like A Man. I know it will have a sub-title, I'm just not sure what it will be.
So check back regularly now, there will be many posts to come.

Now, that's Shocking

*This is something I wrote right when it was announced that the Detroit Shock would be moving to Tulsa. I'm sure had I sat down and really concentrated, I would have had more to say, but alas, that was not meant to be.

Maybe I'm old school.
Maybe I haven't grown up and accepted the world as it is.
A business.
Where you will be kicked out of your apartment building so a football team can build a stadium.
Where you have to fill out a form that may or may not guarantee you food.
Where a team you've followed since you were a child can be moved at the drop of a hat.
Because everywhere I look, something is showing me that the things that we hold close as a society or getting thrown aside in lieu of the bottom line.
Tuesday, the WNBA announced that the Detroit Shock, winners of three championships, will be moved to Tulsa, Oklahoma for financial reasons.
This isn't a team that bottom-fed a league of unappreciateds. The Shock were a quality squad that, with Bill Lambieer, brought a legacy that didn't have many stories that nonfans could relate to.
But, as we've seen with women's sports, legacy doesn't mean squat if you aren't making money off said legacy.

And so we meet again

It's been a long time since I've posted on this site. Like a long time. And that's mostly because, dare I say it, journalism has taken a back seat to many other things in my life.
Am I still interested in journalism? Yes. Do I still want to have a job in journalism? Honestly, I don't know, and that's because I see the way that the world is turning and I'm not necessarily sure if I want a hand in that.
The closest I've gotten to journalism in the past month is watching the final season of The Wire, which by the way if you haven't seen, you most definitely need to start watching. (From the beginning. It's addicting.) I'm still keeping my eyes open for jobs or internships in the area, but I probably won't start doing actual work until the fall semester starts in August.
What are the other things in my life pulling me away from a once huge passion? Well, the biggest is my journey of self-discovery, which ironically, started in Galveston. I've been learning about, accepting, loving and changing myself - excuse me, evolving my self. One of my main lessons is focus, so I've been trying to focus my energies on discovering who I am, learning about myself and loving myself. So I haven't been focused on much else.

Gold, Frankensense and Respect

*This is the full version of this column. I was so irate and upset about the WNBA disbanding the Comets, that I wrote this in just a few hours. An edited version will run in tomorrow's Shorthorn.

I initially wanted to write this column as a letter to Santa outlining my Christmas sports list.
Then I read this: WNBA disbands Comets because new owners couldn't be found.
The story, not found on the ESPN.com front page but on its Women’s Basketball tab, was the basic Associated Press copy with an inset link to Michelle Voepel’s column about the team and how it led up to this day.
So, after much consideration, here’s my shortened list: All I really want for Christmas is some genuine respect for women’s basketball.
Female basketball players in the country don’t have much to aspire to. Before the WNBA, young girls were still clinging to the notion of becoming the first woman in the NBA, not knowing or realizing the level of sexist discrimination they would have to encounter at the very application of this idea.
Now, most realize after high school that if they want to play professionally there are only two options: live thousands of miles away overseas just to make decent money and be treated like a superstar by people who don’t even speak your language, or stay in the United States and make less than $100,000 a year to play non-televised games for semi-sold out crowds.
And maybe, if they are Jordanesque enough, they might get sponsorships or a shoe deal to live lavish lifestyles like the NBA players do, which shouldn’t be too hard, right? Hell, even Stephon Marbury has a shoe brand.
Of all the teams in the WNBA, the Houston Comets were the mainstays. They were the Chicago Bulls, with a dream team of players since inception from Cynthia Cooper to Tina Thompson to Sheryl Swoopes.
Matter of fact, the only other time I’ve cried over something sports related was watching Michael Jordan win his fourth championship after his father died.
The Houston Comets being disbanded is along the same lines of the NFL disbanding the Cowboys because they couldn’t find a new owner.
It’s absurd. The very notion just doesn’t make sense – NFL without the Cowboys.
Well, guess what? WNBA without the Comets is the same thing. A team that the entire country got behind with its triumphs – winning the first four championships – and trials – the death of Kim Perrot in 1999 – didn’t even make it to its 14th birthday.
Even with the flailing economy, no other sports league would have lost a keynote franchise, no matter how many fans weren’t attending or how many tickets were unsold.
Everyone who says the WNBA shouldn’t have been started in the first place because the sport isn’t worth anything, or isn’t exciting, should take a deep look at themselves as a sports fan. Quality play happens on a women’s basketball court. They don’t play above the rim as much, but if you actually are a true sports fan, you’ll fall in love with the execution and precision of women’s basketball.
It all ties into this superficial society. Style over substance rules nowadays. People would rather see teams score 120 points a game – a la the Dallas Mavericks under Don Nelson – over a pure defensive struggle.
If it seems like I’m upset, I am. I’m tired of the sport that I love getting the shaft because of limiting stereotypes and generalizations by people who couldn’t possibly understand what its like to have something you love spit on or laughed at on a daily basis.
Women’s basketball has been pushed to the back for years, even at this university by higher ups like President James Spaniolo, who pointed to the men’s basketball team for elevating the campus’ visibility after qualifying for the NCAA Tournament. The fact that the women did the same thing two of three years under former coach Donna Capps wasn’t even mentioned.
But then again, it took the university months to throw together an appreciatory pep rally, complete with free extra-large big “A” t-shirts, for the team when it advanced to its second NCAA Tournament with little advance notice for students, so why would they?
I want America to love its women’s basketball the way Green Bay loves its Packers or Latin America loves its futbol.
Is that too much to ask? Maybe. But these women just want to play a sport they love just like everyone else, and, at the very least, be able to do it in their own country.

-Princess McDowell is a journalism senior and a sports columnist for The Shorthorn.