The Activist in Me: Part 1

Today, The Man won another battle in the War of Oppression. By nightfall, another promising young Black leader was writing his own jail sentence. That upstanding citizen is know to the rest of as Michael Vick. But from this moment forward I will call him Political Prisoner AF7 (codename: Falcon).

The Falcon has been grounded. It appears that the government finds him to be a threat. Instead of allowing him to use his fame and athletic prowess as a launching pad for the next revolution, he will instead be asked to forfeit some of his earnings and potentially spend a period of time behind bars. Falcon, once poised to televise the pending revolution, has had his wings clipped. Little boys all across the country are retiring the Vick jerseys. Grown men all across the country are canceling their subscription to the NFL channel. Women in Atlanta, however, are rejoicing over the fact that their likelihood of contracting herpes from Falcon aka “Ron Mexico” has been reduced dramatically. But overall, America is mourning.

If all ends well, Falcon may be able to make the best of this situation. He can use his time behind bars to read up on animal cruelty. Upon his release, PETA might make him an honorary member. In fact, he may be able to engage the PETA organization and rally them behind many of the issues facing inner city communities across the country…and dare I say the world?!?!

Aside from making peace with his Maker and with the people he pissed off, Falcon might gain a new appreciation for dogs. He might even be able to start a prison football league and play for team called the Penitentiary Puppies. He’ll lead the league in rushing and passing yards. In 10 years, MTV Films will make a movie about this guy if they’re still around.

But for now, Brother Falcon needs our solidarity. As a testament to my commitment to Political Prisoner AF7 and the injustice being done, I hereby take a vow. I vow to refrain from shaving my facial hair until the situation with Political Prisoner AF7 is resolved. Until he is either pardoned by President Bush or given some form of immunity somewhere in the former Soviet Blok.

I will grow my hair as a form of opposition to the injustice being done. I will not cut it until Falcon walks the streets as a free man and continues to make Middle Linebackers wish that they had picked a different day job (or until 2 weeks from today, whichever comes first).

All those with me, speak now or forever hold your peace (or piece, if you’re really gangsta)!

An Exercise in Love

The thought of leaving her excited him.

These thoughts of spousal abandonment would pop into his mind at least 3 or 4 times a day. Especially noteworthy were the moments he would spend reading popular magazines. Endless barrages of attractive ad women would drive him to question the merits of his relationship and long for the freedom that he once had.

Marriage for a man his age wasn’t an easy thing. He entered the relationship after learning that his significant other was pregnant. Sarah, his wife, would later go on to lose the child. He still bore most of the guilt from this encounter and couldn’t help but to blame himself for somehow causing things to go wrong. For this reason, he stayed with her.

When he met her the summer before his senior year of college, he told himself that it was but another bout with summer love. But instead, he broke one of the cardinal rules in his book of love by agreeing to a long distance relationship. He entered the relationship under a cloud of doubt. His friends told him that there was no way he would be able to remain faithful.

His friends were correct.

During his senior year, he strayed on occasion. In fact, he held a pseudo-relationship with a girl 2 years his junior. The immature sophomore was well aware of his “In a relationship” status on Facebook, but she didn’t care. She enjoyed the rush of being with an older, more experienced guy. He enjoyed the ease of being with such an inexperienced, naïve girl. The two pieced together perfectly.

Despite Sarah’s suspicions, she was never able to pin anything on him. She assumed that she was just being that “jealous girlfriend” that longed to eliminate the distance between her and her man. Her suspicions were almost substantiated late one night in January. His young mistress threatened to inform Sarah of her lover’s misdeeds. Fortunately for him, he convinced her to put the phone down before Sarah could answer. The next day he told Sarah that he had had too much wine the night before and dialed her number by mistake. Crisis averted.

Finally, after spending 9 months apart – a few weekend visits and holiday trips interspersed – they were back together. Deciding on a place to live was a matter of compromise. He was a West coast boy and she was an East coast girl. But given their interest in the entertainment industry, the both figured it would be easiest to give things a go in Southern California.

The glamour and glitz enveloped them both. Many a night was spent partying with the Los Angeles hip crowd. Even if it meant living beyond the means afforded to them by their entry level positions, they were determined to keep pace with the Jones, Jacksons, Jolies and just about any other trendy subset of the population that they could measure themselves against.

Along with this carefree lifestyle came carefree sexual desires. The comfort of things led to the abandonment of condom use. As fate would have it, Sarah would one day awaken in a nauseated state. Several in-home tests and a visit to the doctor would later confirm that Sarah was indeed pregnant. While he viewed the pregnancy as a blessing in disguise, he couldn’t help but to think about the burden that child would place on his shoulders. His bank account was already low and he had no form of savings. The couple had resorted to living from check to check in order to maintain a desirable lifestyle.

The fear of telling his father was a bit overwhelming and he delayed doing so as long as he possibly could. He wanted to be a good father to his seed, but he knew that similar circumstances brought about his birth. There was no question about it, he was ill-equipped.

Yet, he did manage to seek out counseling from his peers. A good number of them suggested an abortion. It was a bit of a taboo subject matter for him. While he was a firm believer in a woman’s right to choose, he knew that things would be different once they hit so close to home. Was he really ready to suggest killing his unborn child? Was it even something that he should mention?

The rest of his friends laid out the roadmap to a more realistic alternative. Although it was quite clear to him, he needed to hear it from someone else. It was only right and proper that he buckle down and ask the woman carrying his child to be his wife.

During her 2^nd month of pregnancy, he took her out to their favorite restaurant. So to be mindful of Sarah’s mother-to-be status, he ordered to glasses of apple cider. When the waiter arrived, Sarah was shocked to see a ring in her beverage. He took her hand and asked if she would be willing to spend the rest of her life with him. Tears welled up in her eyes as she went speechless. She only managed to thrust her hands up and down frantically. He was confused at first, but he soon realized that this was her way of saying yes.

There they were. Both with a mere 23 years of experience in the bag. Both uncertain about their futures. Both praying for the best, while secretly expecting the worst. Three months later, they were married in a small ceremony that didn’t come close to defying the limitations of their meager combined incomes. They spent their first night as a married couple, not surprisingly, in bed. But they weren’t making love. Instead they talked for hours about the future. About taking the necessary steps to make the love love. About ensuring that their child would be brought up in a happy home.

And so began the relationship that he frequently thought about ending. (to be continued…)